City of Stone (IC)

[Kallimakus]

Link to the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?491789-OOC-City-of-Stone)


The Dragonfall tavern was packed that night. Tables were full, drink was flowing, a song had been picked up by a few loud, drunk patrons. The tavern keeper and two barmaids were overworked, but that didn't seem to matter much. You have answered a kind of summons, having travelled here after a circumspect job offer. During the evening, you hear plenty of idle chatter, and have a chance to get to know other applicants. A table has been set aside for this purpose, close to the hearth.

The tavern, so named because it was supposedly built on the site where a great red dragon was slain. A skull the size of a pony (a whole one) is hung over the hearth, supposedly belonging to the creature in question. Heroic-looking weapons and trophies complete the decoration. It has two storeys and a stable for horses and similar mounts attached.

It seems that due nest, the territories of silver dragon Harolth Icebreath are in turmoil, based on chatter from a group of merchants.
Around the country, the construction of a great network of irrigation channels is finally complete. The results won’t be apparent for years yet, but it ends nearly a decade of work.
The Aspis consortium is strongarming traders to give up their businesses.
The local loggers are grumbling about their work on account of the forest being haunted now.

[Anachronity]

Having answered the job offer as "Davion Gray", the name he had been using since fleeing Cheliax, Calligan had intended to talk only as much as needed and be as forgettable as possible. Though normally quite unsociable, he had met a fellow academic whose trade was alchemy, and with whom he held an idle discussion to pass the time.

[Lumipon]

Zin

Zindaru (zin-DAA-ruh) is cornered by a herd of children in a relatively quiet nook of the Inn. He sits on a stool like it was a stage, the youth of the town (some only a few years younger than him) sitting on the ground, eyes transfixed simultaneously on him and something ethereal.

Zin is recounting "Knight Allan and the Witch", a story of adventure, shenanigans and romance. It is a straightforward tale of heroism and friendship. The best kind of tale. His version is a combination of the lyrical and literal versions, using song and music to enhance dramatic moments, while still taking time to answer questions from his eager audience.

The act Is a second nature to him, something that pours out of him as easily as water flows from a spring. So it was easy for him to occasionally direct his attention to the rest of the inn and when the employer would turn up.

[EnglishKitsune]

Victor Alexandre De'Schava Ariana

Victor was sat at the table, his long coat and hat draped over the back, revealing plain black breaches, a simple white cloth shirt, and a black vest, a walking cane was perched against the table next to him. He stood out a little among the adventurers here, looking more like he belonged in a Library or bank than at a rowdy tavern. His tall lean frame and glowering face, made most not approach him, other than Davion, who he had met on the road.

As well as idly chatting to Davion, Victor was sketching in one of his little notebooks, a small book bag open on the table next to him showing other books, all the same, small and with plain black coverings. The sketch he was doodling was of one of the Barmaid's, catching quiet glances at her as he took puffs from a thin black cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, one of the few he had rolled earlier that night, which were perched next to his book.

[Lumipon]

Zin's Adventures in Ostenso

When Zin mentioned going investigating, he actually meant "hanging around in various taverns making friends".

And so it is that he spends most of the next six days sinking his hooks into the city, asking about the kidnappings and the city in general and keeping an ear out for all kinds of rumors. His affable nature and skills in entertainment have him easily place himself as everyone's new favorite foreigner, while masking the fact that he is actually doing active investigation as well.

The rumor mill mainly produces half-truths and hearsay, but Zin does manage to parse together factual information from a few socially savvy individuals: one barkeep and one professor of the academy in particular.

After nearly a week, Zin has established some regular contacts and gained a solid grasp of the working of the capital of Sadesi.

[Anachronity]

Calligan's Research

Calligan reaches to turn the page, only to find once again that there are no more. With a sigh, he places Eilman Murray's Stories of the Sordid: A Recounting of Subterfuge in the Chelish Civil War with the rest of them, and decides that one more book ought to do it for tonight.

He had spoken little, and had made no spectacle other than to present the filigree scroll when necessary and to carry a shield with him into a library. Its lack of spikes or ornate carvings and his refusal to carry weapons had a very distinct purpose: Chelish laws were very unkind to aggressors who bore deadly weapons in combat or who had documented training in the martial arts. While he suspected the laws to be less drastic here, he had simply learned to throw a decent punch and do without weapons some time ago. It suited him quite well in his present circumstances.

Calligan had made good coin as a traveling healer, but more and more a nagging thought lingered that his life was simply... boring. His moments of escape from Cheliax had been the most exciting hours of his life, and he had applied for this 'call for adventurers' seeking a relief from reading, traveling the road, and turning his back on teary-eyed widows-to-be whose husbands had lacked the coin for his services. Thus far, it had been a disappointing experience.

At first he had considered simply becoming one of those who'd asked too many questions, hopefully with more favorable results than the others. However, it seemed his traveling companions were more than able to supply him with information of varying credulity. Fact-checking was a simple task, and one that Calligan is quite good at, but also one which is very time-consuming. As such, there were many long hours for those nagging thoughts to creep up on him. After all, his companions were a seemingly-straightforward professor and professed alchemist, a young child who, while talented, did not seem the sort to be well-prepared for violence, and a strange elf who looked as though he might simply fall over dead at any moment. Only one of them seemed even remotely prepared to fight, and Calligan did not even recall his name.

Of course, it was very much possible that Calligan would discover far too late that he was way in over his own head if and when the time came for fighting. He had little experience in healing in the heat of battle, and had only used his less kindly talents a couple times to make a quick escape from grieving loved ones who insisted on misplacing the blame.

With another sigh, he cracks open yet another tome.

[Lumipon]

Zin and the Clubhouse
Laborers are picking the old mansion clean as Zin looks on from the yard. Our manor, now, Zin smiles to himself with satisfaction. He can see, in his mind's eye, the future of this place: messengers delivering requests and payment, men and women sparring in the yard, a few people - young and old - coming here to ask what they could do to fight against those who trample over the weak.

The Cult, Umas, Zygmunt, the duergar... Zin can feel it shifting. The status quo of the world being shaken by these hidden forces. And this place will become a counter to that. An Aegis to protect and guide those who cannot protect themselves. To bring to light those who lurk in darkness and bring misery.

Zin bursts out laughing. The foreman of the laborers gives him a startled look.

"It's so cliché", Zin explains with a grin. "It's a tired trope of thousands of tales. Children's fancy."

The foreman's brow furrows.

"But it's a cliché because we want it. We want the Radiant Knights, we want the Eight, we want to believe", Zin explains.

"... Believe in what, sir?" The foreman asks, carefully.

Zin turns back to look over the mansion, still grinning. "Ourselves."

Zin and the House Staff
Zin makes it a point to personally meet each and every one of his new employees, committing their names and faces to memory. He'll answer any questions they might have and will ask some in return.

Zin and Belle
With Gemys' help, Zin ventures to Belle's cave and asks her to visit the headquarters of Aegis.

[Mashallah]

The newcomer

Zin bursts through the front doors of the Aegis manor, Emelie and Orpheo in tow.


"By Desna, it's good to be home." Zin sighs and collapses on the sitting room couch.


"And with impeccable timing," Nathaniel's voice rings in the hallway. "Are three of our four founding members, Masters Zindaru, Orpheo and Emelie."


Zin cracks an eye to see Nathaniel at the edge of the room, accompanied by an elven woman with uncanny beauty such as that of an inanimate doll, wearing a beautiful silk dress and a bunch of jewelry.
Upon seeing the three arriving people, she looks at them without any meaningful expression and says "Greetings, masters." in a flat voice.
"Has your mission been successful?" she inquires then.


Surprise creeps to Zin's face. Emelie and Orpheo seem taken aback as well.


"What is this Fae visage?" Zin inquires. "Has a being of the first world lost it's way and found itself in our humble abode?" Zin smiles, affably. "Nice to meet you" Zin greets her in elven and gives her a deep bow.
Orpheo seems content to let Zin take the lead, but Emelie seems to be shaking in excitement. She looks like she's about to burst. Her eyes sparkle.


She gives an equally deep bow and replies in elven, tone just as monotone as before: "My name is Veluthil Lananiel. I've decided to settle down and help those in need after travelling for years. Aegis seemed like a good place to do it. It's my pleasure to meet you."


"We are pleased to have anyone who wishes to help those less fortunate." Zin says. "How, if you'll excuse her, I think our resident magic user has something to-"


Zin is cut off as Emelie leaps to the forefront and starts barraging Veluthil with questions, ranging from her age to occupation to family to preferred food and drink.
Zin tries to stop her, but the tide of words impresses him too much.
For a brief moment, there's a hint of surprise at Veluthil's face, which quickly fades away. She is slowly backing away while attempting to reply to at least some of the barrage of questions.
Zin asks Orpheo to lead Emelie away, which he has to do by grabbing her by the shoulders and nearly carrying her away. Her lasts audible words are: "... let's have tea sometime later so we can continue this at a..."
"Sorry about that." Zin scratches his chin. "She gets like that when something obviously exotic is present."
"I see."
"Please don't hold it against her. Her curiosity is what makes her an asset." Zin grins.
"Understood."


A few moments of consideration after that, she follows up with something a tad more important, even if her voice doesn't show it: "While you were away, Nathaniel ordered me to investigate the activities of Valeria Krupt. As far as I could discover, the rumours are just rumours and she isn't involved in any suspicious activities beyond that. My full report should be finished by tomorrow."
"Much obliged. Remember to ask Nathaniel for compensation for your efforts." Zin smiles, a bit more subdued this time.
She nods. "If you have no objections, master, I would like to retire to my quarters now."
"Please, just 'Zin' will do fine:" Zin smiles. "Nathaniel just can't function without some form of etiquette, so he insist on at least something like an honorific." Zin gives Nathaniel a good-natured wink. He frowns, a bit. "In Aegis, we're all companions."
"Understood, Zin."
Zin nods. "We shan't keep you." (in elven) He gives her a flamboyant bow.


Emelie bursts in with a tray of tea. "I have tea!"
"I'm afraid I would prefer to refuse tea at this moment.", replies Veluthil.

Emelie nearly slips on a rug, losing grip of the silver tray, the whole collection of teaware nearly falling on the floor.
Graelor manifests himself from the shadows, instantly catching the tray.
During the split second, he contemplates on catching Emelie's fall, sighs and catcher her by the back and nudges her upright."Mistress Emelie, I would ask you to refrain from appropriating kitchen supplies by yourself." Grealon looms over Emelie.
"This tea is absoutely subpar! "
"A mere minute of brewing creates swill I'd not serve to a stray dog, rather than a valuable member of the organization."
The scene fades to Grealon explaining proper tea-brewing to Emelie.
Zin shakes his head and laughs under his breath.


Excuse my poor formatting, this is a copypaste of a chat.

[Mashallah]

A better tea

As Zin is passing near the room in which Veluthil is staying, he notices she's writing a letter

Zin knocks on the open doorway to notify his presence.


She stops writing and looks at him just as expressionlessly as usual. "Zin?"


"Do you have time to talk? I don't want to disturb your writing, though", Zin says, faigning a tinge of sheepishness. He calculates that a person like her might respond better to a more subdued personality.


"I'm in no hurry with this. What would be the matter?", she asks before putting her quill aside to show that Zin has her attention.


"I was wondering if we could have a little chat", Zin says. "A good thing about being an organization this small is that you can get to know all the people you work with. And I'm a bard, so getting to know people is kind of my thing." He explains.
"May I come in?" he asks, as he wagers she values her personal space.


Veluthil nods. "I apologise if I have been less communicative than I should have been."


He takes that as an invitation and steps in. Serena, the new maid trails after him, setting down a tray of tea and biscuits on a nearby table. Zin thanks her and she curtsies and leaves.
Zin has a troubled expression as the maid exits, but then turns to Veluthil. "Tea? Properly brewed, this time."


"Thank you. Speaking of tea, is Emelie always as insistent as she was yesterday?"


Zin lets out a chuckle. "No. I mean, maybe. Yes, depeding." Zin pours them cups and takes a seat opposite to her. "We met a demon on the last mission, and I think she just barely managed to not give it the same treatment." He takes a sip.
Zin raises his brows and regards the cup. "I am reminded why people have professional servants"


"A demon?" She also takes a sip.


"One of those outer planar beings born of sentient sin and wickedness. This one had made pact with Ponty for something or another and claimed ownership of him. We dealt with it, as appropriate."


"What is a Ponty?"


"Ponty is a categorical name for thought-to-be-deceased heirs of overthrown dynasties that have presertved their life by binding their souls to wooden boxes with necromancy." Zin explains, professionally.
"I only know of one their kind, though."
A smile tugs at his lips.
He takes a sip of tea.


"Interesting.", she replies, though her tone is as flat as it was the whole conversation. She then takes another sip.


"So, how have you liked Aegis so far?" Zin asks with good natured curiosity.


She silently thinks for a moment before replying: "It has been acceptable, even if less organised than I had initially expected."


Zin smiles.


Veluthil takes another sip of tea.


"An apt observation", Zin notes and takes a piece of blank paper and a quill from the table. "May I?"


She nods.


Zin draws circles on the paper, writing down organizations like "Sadesi", "Cheliax", "Hellknights" and "Iron Circle".
"These are nations, organizations, companies. Collections of memes that are defined by titles and laws and power."
"Not all, but most, are somehow inclusive or exclusive in order to propagate their own existence."


She nods.


"It's not a bad, thing, really, but the Aegis I imagine, far into the future, assuming it has not died..."
"Is something that's more a way of doing things than a thing by itself."


"What do you mean?", she asks.


Zin takes a moment to think about this. "Perfection does not exist in nature, we artists know that better than most. But that doesn't stop us from chasing it. To try and reach for ideals, for a single glimpse of something that goes beyond mundane."
"I want Aegis to be that thing. To be an example on how to act with goodness and wisdom. To invite people to try it. To show that others have reached for it, and they can, too, if they want."


She takes a sip while listening.


Zin writes a tiny A on each of the circles he has already titled.
And being wise, considerate and, well, good, no matter what is it that you do."


"I see."


Zin smiles "But that's still far away, if we ever reach it."
"But the most important thing is: I will try." He gives her a cheerful grin.
"But here I am, talking about myself! What a bad visitor I am!"
"Want to come to the theater with me and some others?"


"To the theater?"


"Yea, Ostenso Academy has a theater sponsored by the royalty." Zin explains.


"That wasn't what I wanted to inquire about."


"They're playing a version of "Knight Alva and the Witch", a tale of heroism, love and tragedy!"
"It's the story of the titular knight who goes on a quest to save his bethrothed, but the evil Witch plans to foul his mission!"


"Interesting. I haven't often been to theaters, particularly not to relatively small ones. This could be an entertaining occasion."


"It will be me, Nathaniel, Belle and some others." Zin says. "They're playing for the next two evenings still."
"I have some connections to the academy, so we get prime seats." Zin cackles impishly.


"That sounds agreeable", she confirms.


"The academics can be a pompous lot with their dress codes, but I assume that will not be a problem for you?" Zin smiles and gives her clothes a quick scan.


"I'm used to being around nobles."


"Good to hear", Zin smiles and gets up from his seat. "If you'll excuse me, I have to practice walking with a blind."


"Walking with a blind?"


He promptly pulls out a scarf from his pocket, ties it over his eyes and starts to shakily search for the door.
"It's an equality - ouch - thing." Zin says as he runs into a drawer.


"What are you doing, mas- Zin?" She makes a slight slip due to confusion.


"Training how to walk blind. Can't say I'm making much progress."
"My sense of speed goes all out of whack, I feel like I'm going much faster than I actually am."
"Though", He says and takes a deep breath.


"Why are you doing that?"


Zin lets out a high Do-note toward the general direction of the door.
A drawn, out Do.
Zin goes quiet and starts wandering toward the door.
"Echolocation", he says. "... I think."
He walks into the doorframe.


"I'm afraid it's nearly impossible anatomically for a human to achieve echolocation without magic, Zin."


"My ears are exceptinal, I'll have you know." She hears the smile in his voice.
Zin manages to get out the door and continues on his way. A second high note sounds down the corridor.
There is a metallic crash soon after.
"I know that sound! It's a candlebraum!"
"I hope it was not lit!"
"I don't smell smoke, at least!"
"No, that's definitely smoke!"


She closes the door of her room and chuckles behind the slight sound insulation of the closed door to make sure she isn't heard.


Cursing and stomping sounds from the end of the hallway.

[Mashallah]

Knight Alva and the Witch
Warning: this is a massive block of text.

Participating characters: Emelie joined the group, promising she will be on her best behaviour while there, and Lyn joins on the grounds of not having anything better to do with her arm on a sling. Additionally, Zin decided to invite Taryn and Selena to come along. This makes for a total of 8 characters - Veluthil, Zin, Belle, Nathaniel, Emelie, Lyn, Taryn, and Selena.

Veluthil is standing near the entrance of the Aegis manor, patiently waiting for the rest to assemble. She is wearing a highly decorated blue dress and a golden necklace with sapphires which complements well both her dress and her hair.

Zin checks his reflection from his room's standing mirror: Wine red jacket and trousers, a moss-green vest, bright white udnershirt and a stocking on the neck. The buttonings burnished gold set with tiny emeralds.
"I am wearing a couple year's wage for a farmer", he smiles, sighs and heads for the courtyard.

Upon seeing him approach, Veluthil nods and asks "Will Nathaniel be ready soon?"

Nathaniel is also ready for the evening's event. He prefers a darker green, trimmed with golden yellow. He wears light trousers.


"Speak of the devil", Zin waves Nathaniel closer.

The hired carriage arrives to the manor shortly after everyone assembled.

The two servants are excited but a little anxious about going. It's not a setting they're used to (or rather, the setting might be, but their role isn't).
Lyn tries to put them a bit more on ease.

Zin tells them that both of them look as stunning as true nobility, and are much more likeable than 99% of the rich, aloof bastards.

Seeing their efforts at calming down the servants, Veluthil tries to also chime in with advice: "If it makes you feel easier at first, think of this as just being ordered to escort us."

"Everrrryone rrrrrrready?" Zin hollers using his best announcer voice.

A chorus of 'yes' and 'sure' issues from the NPC gallery, in various tones of enthusiasm.

"Yes" says Veluthil, about as coldly as always.

Zin strikes a pose, a pre-arranged signal for Norman to bring their carriages.

"Have you heard or seen 'Knight Alva and the Witch' before?" Zin inquires as they're riding to the theater.

"I'm afraid I haven't." replies Veluthil.

"I believe I have" says Nathaniel
"I haven't seen a play, ever." Belle says, excited.
"I don't think so," the maids say, "unless it has a street play version. What is it about?"

"Aren't we about to see it?" asks Veluthil.

"It's a story of the titular Knight Alva, who embarks on a quest to save his betrothed from a terrible sickness..." The scene transitions from the carriage to the theatre.
The first act opens introducing our characters in song. Alva, the brave and dutiful knight, traveling far south in search for a cure to heal the fair princess, and the evil Witch, yet unnamed, who out of boredom and spite decides to harry the vainglorious Knight's efforts. She takes guises of animals to distract him, obfuscates the road and stars from him to make him lose his way, spreads ill rumors to cause him trouble in villages.
Our hero, Alva, takes these obstacles head-on, with dauntless determination. He soon realizes that some evil force must be out for him, for his challenges are far numerous than any ordinary traveler's. One night, in a deep forest, he decides to call out for his shadowy foe.
"I know thee lurketh in the shadows and haunt me. If you wish to see my task fail, why not face me head on, and be done with it?" The Knight speaks to the darkness.

Veluthil was initially fully alert and not letting her guard down, keeping an eye on the audience when the play started, but, as it went further with nothing happening outside of it, she seemed to progressively devote more attention to the play.

Belle was wearing a blindfold during the play to avoid putting others at risk, saying that the atmosphere alone is enough for her.

The darkness shifts, and a form reveals itself. The Witch speaks: "Now where would be the fun in that, I wonder? I simply wish to poke and prod, to see if the fabled Knight as truly as gallant and strong as he seems." The Witch answers, her tone playful. "But do not think ill of me for using you for my amusement, for the place you seek, the White Forest, lies beyond the barbaric Tribelands, the churning Sea of Udar and is guarded by the wicked Fae, all more cunning and powerful than I."
"You could think that this is a mere taste for the true journey that awaits you." The Witch announces, voice grim.
Alva bows to her. "Then I thank you deeply for your concern, but my path is set, and I shan't falter until I have a goblet of White Spring waters to heal my betrothed."
Witch laughs, a shrill, mocking sound. "Then do as you wish, brave knight, I shall not trouble you further."
With that, the shadow of the Witch retreated, and the knight was alone.

"Or is he?" Zin asks with a smirk.

The second act continues as Alva braves the beasts and barbarians of the Tribelands. He vanquishes wolves as tall as a horses, bests a horde of marauding barbarians and fells their evil chieftain in single combat. The battles the wilderness of the Tribelands were hard fought, and the knight collected many wounds that would keep him awake at night.
But Alva was not alone. Through his trek across the Tribelands, the Witch had followed him, taking guises of animals and men. This time, however, she had nothing to do with the knight's hardships.
The weary Alva breaks through the woods of the Tribelands and comes to the shores of the Sea of Udar, just in time for the Fall's storms.
Without thinking twice, the knight buys himself a sturdy boat to take him across, as no seaman dares to brave the wrath of Udar at his rage's peak.
As Alva was about to embark on his marine voyage, the Witch came to him. "You arrogant fool of a man!" She admonishes him. "Men much more skilled and experienced have tried to cross the Sea when Udar is roused, but nary a soul has lived through his wrath! If you brave these waters, you will die, and then there is no-one to save your betrothed!"
"The princess does not have many moons to live, and the White Spring is my only hope. Even if I perish in this task, I know I have fallen doing my knight's duty, and protected an innocent life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to depart." The Knight answers, simply.

At this point Veluthil asks Zin: "Is this based on true events?"

Zin shrugs. "This is a very old tale, and the names and places aren't probably the same anymore. But knowing what crazy this world is, I'd be surprised if this story wasn't at least part true."

"Your stupidity has exceeded the limits of amusing, and have become infuriating instead." The Witch growls at him. "Your demise shall be your own doing, reckless knight."
Alva leaves shore, and the waves seem to pull him outward, like a hungry beast's tendrils that guide the helpless prey to be devoured.
For three days and nights Alva sailed. On the first day, his sails were ripped from the masts, leaving him at the mercy of currents. On the second day, his rudder broke, depriving him of his ability to even align himself. On the third day, he was beset by Sea Serpents, the children of Udar.
The knight engaged the serpents on the deck of his small ship, but fighting the beast in their element proved impossible: their limber necks twisting away from his sword and their quick snaps taking him off-guard on the shaky footing.
Alva saw his end approaching. The serpents' assault battered his vessel and it would soon go down. His armor would weigh him down to the bottom of the sea, to be devoured by Udar and his children.
"Finally." was the knight's last word, before a Serpent struck him off his boat and into cold dark waters.


"The illusion effects on the stage are really quite marvelous", Zin notes under his breath.

"Indeed. I haven't seen depth in illusions done so well before", affirms Veluthil.

The scene fades to darkness as the vicious beasts circle their prey.
Suddenly the stage is lit, Alva lying on his back on the sand, a figure crouching over him.

"Here it comes, the most difficult part!" Zin says.

A face is projected on the background. A female face, not beautiful or ugly, not young or old, but face of worry and concern and anger and relief..
"You hapless fool", the Witch says as Alva coughs himself back to life. "You would be dead if it wasn't for me."
The knight, Alva, too too stunned to think, can merely ask: "... What is your name?"
"Zuria."
With luck, determination and magic, Alva and Zuria managed to cross the Sea of Udar, but their journey was far from complete. But now, together as friends and allies, they forged onward to their destination: The White Woods and the Spring therein, guarded by the Unseelie Fae.
On the journey they talked of meaningless things, sang songs of travel and shared food. However, soon the monolithic trees of the White Forest loomed over them.
Massive trunks, like giant pillars of marble, and leaves as dark green as to almost be black. As they ventured inside, the sun disappeared and the shadows seemed to come alive.
But the both of them were undeterred; resolved to see this journey through together.
But no adversity came. As they wandered ever deeper, the shadows swayed but never lunged. Distant howling, but no menacing growls. The looming dread kept them company as they made their way deeper, to the center, toward the heart of the White Forest.
And soon enough it was in their vision: a small, round lake of crystal clear water, with giant white roots reaching inside it to drink the powerful waters within.
"We made it", said Alva.

"Not knowing those are famous last words." Zin added, quite rudely, with a smirk.

The pair got ever closer, but suddenly, total silence fell upon them. It was broken by a horned, hooved creature falling down before them from the branches above. "You shall not take drop of our cherished waters, outsiders!" The satyr growled, his voice rousing a battallion of Fae creatures to leap from the shadows and surround the Knight and the Witch.

"Last words? Will they die?" Asks Veluthil.

"I sure hope not:" Zin says with a coy smile.

"That would be a downer ending" Emelie says

The two knew they had gone too far to stop now, and engaged the Fae. The witch, more adept in flight and trickery, harrassed the enemies in the form of an owl, while the knight took his blade to his foes. Alva managed to carve his way to the Spring and barely managed to capture a vial of the precious liquid. As if sensing that outsiders were in contact with it, the roots of the trees around them began to trash around, furious.
The situation looked grim; the fae seemed unending, Alva was running out of strength. A group of fae clung to his body and he fell down. Zuria was thrown to the ground by the Satyr.
With a burst of furious strength, Alva shook the lesser foes off of himself, and reached for Zuria. Zuria reached back, and uttered the name of the Wind.
Having lost his armor at sea, the wind picked Alva up like a bundle of leaves, a powerful torrent that lauched him away and out of the forest.
The wind died as Alva passed the final white trees, setting him on the grass. In his hand was a vial of the powerful waters of the White Spring.
Having made good time crossing the Sea of Udar before, he had time to safely round the the shores, and arrive in time so save the Princess, his bethrothed. A hero, like Alva had been a thousand times before.

"I could do that too." Lyn says, a little smile in her voice. A faint breeze passes through the Aegis seats. "Well, maybe not"

But the thought filled him with nothing but disgust.
Alva, tired and wounded, set his way back to the White Forest.
As soon as he passed the first monumental trunks, the Fae appeared, like bees to honey.
Alva pleaded to negotiate, and the confused fey agreed. The satyr came soon, eyes hateful and eager.
"What have you here to negotiate, manling?" The satyr asked. "You have what you came for."
"I do. But what I came for is not what I desire." Alva said.

"But why would he return?" asks Veluthil.

Do not presume to fool me, manling! This forest is our domain. Inside, we can hear your thoughts! They betray your lust to be a hero, lust that has consumed your being!"
Alva could only nod. "It is so. But even still, I wish for my friend back. We are at the edge of your domain, are we not? Surely, you can hear what my heart says?"
The satyr is silent for a while. "It seems you speak truths."
"Bring the other manling."
The lesser fae scuttled to obey.
Soon they bought Zuria, whose eyes were tied and mouth bound.
"For her, the vial." Alva says.
"Agreed, vain, twisted manling." The satyr says.
Alva set the vial before himself, and Zuria was set free. Alva reached out a hand to her.
A face is projected on the background. A male face, not handsome or ugly, not young or old, but face of worry and concern and relief.
Their hands touch, and the stage fades to black.

"I don't understand, wasn't the vial what he was looking for? Why would he trade it for a foe whom he temporarily allied?" Veluthil's voice sounds different than usual. Instead of the usual permanent flatness and lack of emotion, it sounds somewhat upset and confused.

Zin dabs his eyes and sneezes.
"This story", his voice sounds hoarse, "while being a normal adventure and character drama, highlights how people are contradictory beings."
"The hero, the knight, Alva, chose to save a friend who had both hindered and aided him over his bethrothed princess."
"It might say that the engagement wasn't based on love, or that the knight is selfish or shortsighted in saving Zuria instead,"

"A tale of betrayal done in the name of love" Lyn says.

Zin nods, "And many others, depending on the listener."
"The reason I wanted to see this one is that the tale is usually told as verbal story, not an act."
"Normally, the character's faces in each of their pivotal moments is narrated to the audience, but with these skills, it's possible to visually project them from the actors."
"Truly revolutionary technology in the realm of theatre."

For a brief moment, Veluthil seemed upset over Lyn's words, but swiftly realised how she is acting and reverted back to her more usual, cold self. "Excuse me for reacting so brashly to the play."

Zin looks at her with red eyes and tear-stained cheecks. "Well, it's not a comedy." He smiles and takes out a second handkerchef.

"I intended no offense." Lyn says, after a while spent composing. She has yet to take off her blindfold. "It was a beautiful rendition, and a beautiful story."

"It's amazing how the same tale produces as many stories as there are listeners" Emelie says.

After the fifth bow, Zin gets up from his seat. "Alright, the night is still young, we can hit three more taverns yet!"

"I'm afraid I would prefer to decline" replies Veluthil.

[Mashallah]

To see or not to see

Lyn seems disappointed about the evening. She was under the impression that the point was to let Belle see the play. So in that regard, the evening was a failure.

To that, Veluthil just asks flatly: "Why don't you make some kind of helmet with mirrors for her to look safely? Isn't it an obvious solution? "

"I found out about this a little late. Not that I have the skill anyway." Lyn says, a little annoyed. She smooths her tone. "I'm also not sure if it would help"

"I don't have the relevant skill either, but I assumed you know someone competent in crafting. If not, it may be possible to simply order one to be made." replies Veluthil.

"What I mean is that you and I are free to see this any day. She isn't." Lyn says. "Though you raise a good point about the Helm. I should see to that."

"You didn't need to cover your eyes, Belle", Zin notes with a light tone. "Being stoned is just a minor ailment concidering we have the Fleshygoo(tm)."

"What is a Fleshygoo?" asks Veluthil

"It's an anti-stoning agent for those affected by medusa's eyes."

"Interesting", she replies in a tone utterly devoid of said interest.

"The principles behind it are quite fascinating", Zin says, teasingly.

"Is it an alchemical compound?" she inquires.

"Ayupp. It's actually an agent that can copy magical and alchemical properties of any material dissolved in it."
"It could theoretically be used to mass-produce any sort of magical potion," boasts Zin.

"That is certainly most intriguing. May I see it?" Veluthil asks.

"That is not true, though" Emelie says

"I don't think we have any right now, but I'm sure the academy would have some. We could ask Victor to see the process, if you're enterested."
"Wait, am I missing something?" Zin asks.

"Seeing the process would certainly be something that I'd like," notes Veluthil.

"Yes. It doesn't replicate magical properties at all. Well, it depends on how you define magic." Emelie says, about to launch into a tirade about the difference between magical and spell effects, as well as what finer points she does understand about the process.
She starts by specifying that 'spellcasting' is a very limited way of grasping magic, and that the world is full of things that are magic but not spells. Or perhaps that 'magic' is just how the world works.
So the effect of depetrifying people is a 'magical' property that is taken by the liquid. A healing potion for example, is a spell effect. So it is taken by the whole liquid, but not amplified. Essentially, if you put a potion into a gallon of the alchemical compound, you would need to drink all of it to gain the benefit of the original potion.
Besides that, Gemus has infused some of his magic into the non-alchemical base liquid to facilitate a safer and more even effect of the blood.

Unlike her usual dismissiveness towards Emelie, Veluthil seems to attentively listen the whole tirade this time.

"Anyhoo, it's a neat thing", Zin grins as Emelie winds down.

"Beside all that, it isn't as foolproof as the public mood suggests." Lyn says.

"How so?" Zin wonders

"Not everyone survived returning to flesh, despite best precautions."
"Most did, of course"

"So, where can I find Victor to see this process?" asks Veluthil. Even if her face is as emotionless as a rock, it's quite obvious that she is curious about the Fleshygoo.

"He works as a professor at the Academy. He gives classes on alchemy and all." Emelie says.

A WILD SCENE TRANSITION APPEARS

Victor sighed as he closed the door on his office and moved to his desk. Thumping a stack of reports and a crate of test potions on the desk, he leaned his cane against the wall and removed his academic robes. Searching through his letters, he found several that were interesting to him and was beginning to read them, quite happy to have some peace and quiet at last.

Zin knocks on Victor's door with a jolly beat. "Victor, my man, are you human?" He asks through the door, teasingly. He is followed by a beautiful elven woman with a face eerily devoid of emotion. She seems to wait for Zin and Victor to talk first.

Victor sighed upon hearing Zin's voice. Standing up, hiding his letters in his desk drawer, he moved over to the door, picking up his sword cane to assume his natural limp. Opening the door a crack he faced Zin with a look that could only be scorn.
"What do you want Zin? Is it not enough you nearly get me killed by a demon, but now you must pester me at my work?"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. I didn't know about the demon", Zin says lightly, and waves a dismissive hand. "And need I remind you agreed to come by your own will?" He grins.
"Anyway, you can think of this one as work or a social call, which ever is most convenient. "He steps inside and motions Veluthil to enter, to which she complies. "This is lady Veluthil Lananiel, one of Aegis' newest members. If you aren't terribly busy, she'd have some questions about Fleshygoo(tm)."

Victor growls as Zin moves past him, bringing a stranger into his Office.
"You didn't know because you didn't do the research! You ran blindly into an adventure without even thinking or researching WHO was paying you? After all the chaos we had with the cultists I expected an ounce, a drop of caution in who you trusted! I came to repay a debt to someone. A debt I now consider filled."
Victor would look over Veluthil with a withering stare. "Charmed I'm sure, and why would I show such a prized secret to a stranger? How much do you know of this Woman Zin? Other than she showed up at your Fool's Guild's Doorstep?"

Meanwhile Veluthil is just patiently waiting, sometimes looking at Zin, sometimes at Victor.

"I mean, that's literally half our members." Zin admits with a smirk. "Though I do like to get to know the people I work with."
"Besides, Aegis isn't one of those secret organizations of subterfuge and secrecy, so Asmodeus himself could join us and I'd welcome him." Zin notes. "I mean, provided he'd be of any use." Zin winks.
"Anyhow, if you don't want to explain the intricasies of Fleshygoo(tm), it's quite alright. But you might appreciate knowing one of the only actual elves in town." Zin muses, suggestively.

Victor would tighten his grip on the his cane, till his knuckles turn white.
"And you wonder why I no longer trust you. Why I can't trust you. There will come a time Zin, where this... Foppishness of yours, this Vain belief in heroes. Will hurt you and those around you. That blood will be on your hands. You will carry that guilt. That day I will pity you, for you are warned. Trusting will get you nowhere in life."
Victor would turn, his cane swinging up to point at Veluthil in a sharp arc, his frail appearance forgotten.
"You want to learn? Alchemy classes are on the board outside, as are tuition fees. You can start with the Novices and if, IF, you prove yourself capable then we can discuss the De-Petrification Cure. There was a reason the recipe was given to a Master Alchemist. If mistakenly prepared it can be lethal, or worse."

Zin grows uncharacteristically solemn. "You offer sage advice, and your cunning and thoughtfulness in addition to your prowess are the reasons I have a great deal of respect in you, Victor." Zin smiles at him. "But this is the path I've chosen for myself, and even if it leads to my death, the ruining of Aegis and my friends, I do not mind. Life comes before death, strength before weakness, and jouney before destination." He says, quoting an old story. "However, if you find our company so regrettably distasteful, we shan't impose ourselves on you." Zin adds with a more cheerful smile.

Veluthil finally speaks up, seeing that Zin isn't making this go too well. "Starting anew from a novice level would be humiliating for me. I studied alchemy extensively while I was travelling through Kintargo and I can prove myself capable, if need be. I am curious about the De-Petrification Cure precisely because I've never heard of something with such qualities in all of my alchemical practice."

"If you are that talented then you shall not remain amongst the Novices long. Those are my terms Madam. Accept them or leave."
Opening the door he will point outside with his cane expectantly.
"Next time Zin, use formal channels if you want a meeting. I will respond within my best ability. You are not the only person vying for my time. I have meetings with Lord Jeggare this afternoon, and Sir Samuel this evening. Be warned, the King returning has stirred the pot, there are many things happening."

Veluthil thought for a moment on this, turned towards Zin and asked: "May I have permission to attend these classes?"

"You don't have to ask me for anything, Veluthil." Zin looks a bit awkward. "We members of Aegis do what we do because we want to do it, so your time is your own. Actually, I attend some classes myself, but not as much as a few weeks ago."

"I've got enough paperwork on my plate with just Aegis." He grins.

She nods. "Understood."

He then turns to Victor: "As for the king, thank you, I shall keep this in mind." Zin gives Victor a cheerful wave as he retreats through the door. "Good evening to you."

Veluthil then addresses Victor again: "I apologise for our rude intrusion."

Victor gives a little smile in reply and bows formally, saying he hopes to see her under fairer circumstances, after which she bids him farewell and motions to leave.

[Anachronity]

The First Guild Courier

He had requested a bronze, satuesque body for the construct, like those that had guarded house Ghave in his youth. Calligan Ghave had never felt astonishment or wonder, but when his father had those bronze guardians move about for his son's amusement, they had inspired a certain... curiosity in the child he had been. If one were to ask now why he sought to create a similar sort of marvel, he would say it was to heighten his own understanding of magic and prove to himself that he could, and he would believe his own words.

In truth, Calligan was seeking something he could never have put into words: Whatever adventures he had taken part in with Zindaru, the bard was still a child in Calligan's eyes, and one not much older than he himself had been before leaving his home for Westerly Academy. He knew that Zindaru adored dogs, and some part of him was curious as to what the bards reaction to such a wondrous automaton would be; some part of him was desperate for a clue as to how those bronze guard dogs should have made him feel, how they would have made him feel if he were... not as he was.

And so he'd felt an inexplicable sense of disappointment when the artisan told him that a solid bronze body is ill-suited to the role of a courier and servant; that its weight would chip, crack, or dent whatever floor it tread upon and that it would only cause injury with the sort of giddy friendliness that Calligan hoped to impart it with.

Now looking at the filigreed silver likeness of a canine before him, he decided she had known what she was talking about. It was sturdy, tasteful, and, indeed, quite light for its size. Calligan's only reservation was that the red glow of its crystallized heart is still quite visible past the metal plates and supports that cover it. Such a visual quirk was bound to cultivate difficult questions.

A whimper to his side drew his attention back to the heart's donor. An old labrador dog by name of "Pangre" lay suspended above a receptacle - the final piece of the construct - into which its blood slowly drained. Calligan had selected an aged specimen intentionally, as it was easier to justify the process to Zindaru and any others who might feel badly for the beast. He had paid well and assured the previous owner that in this way his beloved companion could live on well past its natural years, an ever-faithful servant of a just cause.
In truth this was far from a second lease on life for the unfortunate creature. The construct would inherit the dog's mannerisms, gain its quirks, respond to its name, and generally be far more lifelike for Pangre's sacrifices. In reality, however, the construct would not be Pangre any more than would be the leftover corpse.

The dog regarded him forlornly, its life kept momentarily intact by necromantic magicks. Living components were always so tricky, they tended to die before they were supposed to...
As the sanguine cascade slowed to a trickle, Calligan knew it was time. He sealed the container, ignored Pangre's feebly wagging tale and pitiful whine for attention, and dragged the blood-filled vessel carefully to the construct. Slowly, he lifted it into place within the hollow cavity to which it belonged.

With a soft click the construct immediately sprung to life with Pangre's stolen enthusiasm, and Calligan had to quickly withdraw his hands to avoid getting them caught and twisted within the squirming construct. He pressed a palm firmly against its smooth silver snout to instantly halt its movements, then proceeded to fasten the receptacle into place and snap the finely-crafted rib cage shut as the construct stood frozen once more.

A final whine from Pangre reminded him to dismiss the lifekeeping spell, after which all that was left to do was to clean up.

He thought ahead to the joyous and gleeful responses his handiwork would elicit. He pictured their smiles and the laughter in their eyes.

Reflexively and mirthlessly, his face contorted in kind.

[Mashallah]

Master Ignis
Note: this is a timeskip to after Veluthil acquired a sample of Fleshygoo(tm) in one way or another. Some retroactivity later is likely, but shouldn't change much.
Veluthil was sitting on a chair, clutching notes and a vial in her hands while waiting. Around her was a fairly bland room of an old wooden house, dimly lit only by the stars and the moon outside - she was so engrossed in her thoughts she forgot to light candles when she arrived. On her face was a mixed expression of anxiety and excitement, as she was thinking about recent and future events, as well as telepathically scanning the surrounding area in search for any living beings. Finally, she felt a familiar mind enter her perception and thus she, with a slight feeling of relief, suppressed her abilities immediately to not intrude on that mind.

A man enters. Tall and quite handsome, he is dressed in nondescript clothing, a disguise he dismisses with a flick of his hand. An attire tailored to fit is revealed, rendered monochrome by the darkness as the man shuts the door behind him. He looks upon a seated servant, and graces her with a smile.
"I hear you had something to show me" he says.

Veluthil smiled happily, stood up, and made a polite curtsey when she saw the man enter. After a brief moment, she replied: "Master Ignis, I have discovered an alchemical compound with unique properties used by the Academae. They mostly used it as a De-Petrification Cure, but it seems to be useful for a more broad array of applications, being able to absorb magic in unexpected ways. I have gathered both a sample and notes on its' function and production." She looks quite obviously happy about her success in this side endeavour.

"Excellent work" the man says, taking both and eyeing the notes. "Yes. You have done very well, my servant." There is a genuine warmth to his words. "I will need some time to test out how it might be made use of. For now, you should continue on your assignment." He spends a moment more reading the notes before pocketing them, as well as the sample.

Her eyes light up with joy as she hears his praise and she takes a moment to recollect herself before replying: "Yes, master."

[Mashallah]

A short flashback which should have really been part of the previous post:
As Ignis left and Veluthil was waiting before leaving in order to avoid being seen near him, memories sprung to her mind.

Winter. Freezing air. Hunger. Hundreds of busy people walking past. Loneliness. Since she ended up on the streets, she was barely surviving on scraps and garbage she could find, but her first winter on the streets was harsh and looking to be deadly - there was almost nothing to find, people had far less money to give to beggars, and she couldn't do much against the cold. Despair and apathy were slowly creeping in.

Veluthil got her arms closer reflexively upon thinking of that, as if trying to keep warm, but the memories kept flowing.

As she was dozing off and the world was beginning to look blurry, she noticed the silhouette of a man near her. At first she thought she was dreaming, but then the man got on his knees to be level with her and gave her the same friendly smile he gave her today. He then spoke in a tone that sounded far kinder and warmer than anything she's heard in a while: "Where are your parents? And what is your name?" She was surprised at the event and rubbed her eyes to make sure he's not a figment of her imagination before replying in a sad tone: "I... don't have parents. My name is Veluthil." He smiled again, gave her his jacket and said in just as warm a tone: "It's cold out here. You should come with me."

[Mashallah]

Blatant lies
Context: since Aegis action is mostly undefined, we did an undefined timeskip of several months and assumed that on some whatever errand, Veluthil got assaulted and wounded.
Veluthil was wounded and lying in bed unconscious. However, her wounds seemed to be closing fast enough for their slow diminishment to be visible by the naked eye. After a couple hours, most of the wounds closed and she woke up, albeit looking weak and barely conscious. The first thing she asked before even becoming fully aware of her surroundings was "M-may I have water?"

Zin was reading some document or another as Velly comes to in her room.

Upon noticing his presence, Veluthil apologised to him before even receiving the water she asked for: "I apologise for my failure."

Zin perks up as she speaks. He has a pitcher and a glass of water already prepared. He gives her a glass.
"No need", Zin assures her "A dockworker witnessed you being assaulted, and fortunately Juli was on patrol there with the guard. They defeated the thugs and raided the premises, catching the entire Black Serpent gang. The important thing, though, is that you were extracted safely and soundly."
"So all's well that ends well." Zin smiles. "And I must say, your natural healing is quite impressive. That's not an elven trait, I assume?"

She drinks the water thirstily, but, upon hearing the question, stops abruptly to think for a few moments before replying: "The alchemy master who taught me back in Kintargo had an imperfect Philosopher's Stone as the work of his life. He considered it a failure since it could neither create gold nor grant immortality, but a mere drop of its' quicksilver was enough to give people natural healing. He shared it only with his most successful students."

Zin nods, smiling. "You must have been a brilliant student, then. Where did you get your education, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Most of it had been back in Kyonin, after which I was a servant at Kyonin royal court for twenty nine years, learning a lot about subtlety and court intrigue in the process. After that, however, my services weren't needed anymore and I've been discharged. After being discharged, I've spent seventeen years travelling around the world and learning various skills such as alchemy before finally arriving to Ostenso and hearing of Aegis."

"Tell me about it? I've heard a great deal of the land of the Eldar, but I've never had the fortune of exchanging words with those who actually lived there."

She thinks for a moment before replying: "I'm not sure what would you want to hear of."

"Just normal, mundane things, like how do you pass the time or what kind of food you have there and somesuch. But if that doesn't spart the imagination, I'd settle for some Elven songs." Zin leans forward with an earnest expression.

"As you wish." She takes a short pause to remember something and begins singing a simple and childish song, the kind you'd expect to see little children singing, albeit poorly and stuttering to remember words as if not having sung or heard it in a long while, however, the coldness of her voice sounds unusually bitter instead of neutral, giving an overall grim tone to what is supposed to be a children's song.

"That sounded... difficult. Do you want to talk about that?" Zin asks, carefully.

"I'm afraid the answer would be no", she replies.

Zin nods. "I understand. Is there anything else you need?"

She replies after a short pause: "I would appreciate more water. This way of healing is unfortunately very dehydrating."

Zin gives her some and gets back to reading. "Just remember that you have friends here. If there is anything you need to talk about, just ask." He gives her a smile and lets his focus wander back to the papers.

[Mashallah]

Goo'd Lesson
Note: this is a retroactive scene, in-universe it occurred a day or two before the "Master Ignis" scene.Victor watched over his shop with an eagle eye, the same precision with which he created alchemical wonders had gone into the refurbishment of this store. The shelves gleamed, the signs were neatly printed, in a plain but elegant script, above the door was his one act of indulgence, a potion bottle shaped sign proudly sporting the name "Unseen Alchemicals" it's very top, a small censure burned, creating a small trail of green smoke and filling the street with the pleasant smell of peppermint.
The actual day to day shop keeping was handled by his assistant, a more people orientated Halfling who could sell a songbird a pair of gloves in summer, so he claimed. Victor could see it wasn't just filibuster, as the small but steady stream of customers often filed out with more than they had intended to purchase.

Veluthil entered the shop, briefly inspecting the surrounding shelves with her usual lack of meaningful expression before looking at Victor and asking: "Greetings, Victor. I believe you had told me to come here if I am to see the De-Petrification Cure?"

He smiles and nods. "Indeed I did, and as you have proven your Alchemical skill, if not your reasons for wanting so, I find myself with little reason not too. Come down to my lab." He'd turn and lead her behind the counter and into the rear of the store, stopping to open a heavily reinforced metal door, mechanisms clicking inside it as he inserted a key.

"As I said before, I am driven by academic curiosity as I haven't seen or heard of anything similar before" she replies to that remark.

The stairs down were brightly lit, by heavily shielded lamps that cast a warm glow around the basement laboratory, it was an Alchemist's dream. Victor had had it installed and fit to his exact specifications, including several devices of his own design. Large copper vats were placed below the stairs and through the reinforced glass of one a large quantity of boiling acid could be seen. Shelves lined the one wall, filled with drawers, bottles, and equipment. A small forge had been squeezed into the far end, currently cold and unlit. The remaining space was taken up by two large work benches, one in the middle of the room and the other pressed hard against the remaining wall.

"Of course, my apologies Madam, I just find it hard to believe, very few people I have met in this city seem driven just by curiosity." Victor was being blunt but not aggressive, openly explaining his reasons for pressing the issue again. "The formula, as well as my own notes on it's creation, are on the central desk. Feel free to browse while I retrieve the small sample I retained."

Upon hearing that, Veluthil went to read these notes with intense focus, devoting almost all her attention to them. After a few moments, she took out writing implements and asked: "May I take notes while here?"

"Certainly, though in return I'd like to read over them before you leave."

"That is acceptable", she replied.

He would pull up a tall green bottle, almost looking as if it contained red wine, and nodded. "Ah, here we are. Perfect Vintage." He would grin at his own little joke.

"May I ask you to demonstrate how it looks in a more transparent container?" she asked upon noticing the bottle.

Victor nods, placing the bottle on the workbench and retrieving a large shallow tray as well as a small test tube. Both of clear glass. He would pour a small amount into the test tube then move over to the shelves once more, looking for a suitable test subject.

Veluthil approached the sample closely to investigate it more upclose. As Victor is searching for a test subject and not paying attention to her, a tiny vial almost unnoticeably slid into Veluthil's hand out of her sleeve in a well-practiced motion before she swiftly gathered a tiny portion of the sample he had brought out and she then hid her vial.

Victor would return with a small bottle of oil, and switch into teaching mode.
"Okay, the base properties of this substance is that it is in many ways inert, however, in a contradiction, it is also very unstable, it seeks properties to which it can mimic or adopt, whether such as a medusa's blood or, simple oil. Observe."
Victor would leave a small drop of the cure on the plate, and after lighting a Taper he would drop it into the cure, where it would fizzle and go out.
"Naturally non-flammable, as I said, inert. However, if I add even the smallest drop of this Oil..."
He would do so, letting one tiny drop drip into the test tube, and lighting a new taper, dropping it into the tube, the substance would immediately catch alight, and burn quite vigorously, letting out a small puff of black smoke.
"It has already adapted to the flammable qualities of the oil. Of course larger batches such as was used for the de-petrification require larger amounts of the base substance, and can take longer to acquire the properties. It must be carefully maintained during this time to prevent cross contamination."
Plugging both the oil and substance again, he smiled at her.
"Was that a satisfactory demonstration?"

She observes the whole process very attentively before saying her thoughts on the subject: "These qualities are most certainly something interesting. However, I find it difficult to believe that such a devoted alchemist as you would be satisfied with only using this as a cure for petrification, instead of finding new applications."

Victor would shrug. "There are limitations to it. Potions, or more magical substances, are merely diffused into the concoction. While you could potentially add a single dose of a Healing potion to a barrel of this, you would need to drink the entire barrel to gain the effects of that dosage. As for more mundane uses, this is composed of several rare and expensive ingredients. While I would happily use it for the right purpose, I have yet to find a case where the cost of making a large batch of the original Compound is not several orders cheaper than using this to duplicate it. Plus, I cannot further combine this compound with other materials to create more advanced alchemical creations."

She pauses to think for a moment before saying "I see."
"Now, I believe you wanted to look over my notes in return for allowing me to take them?" she inquires.

Victor would nod and hold out his hand expectantly.

Veluthil shows her notes. More exactly, lots of runes not even remotely resembling any of the civilised languages. (http://orig03.deviantart.net/a0db/f/2016/173/8/c/text_dunmeris_daedric_by_naka117-da76r67.jpg)

Victor would look at them, raise an eyebrow, then sigh and hand them back, shaking his head and looking at her with a new air of distrust.
"And you wonder why I have trouble trusting people... Go back to Zim, and that fool's guild of his. You obviously have what you wanted."

"What is the matter?", she asks. "I don't understand why you reacted this way, Victor. Could you explain?"

"I cannot read this... Script. Whether or not that was your intended effect I do not know. Part of me wants to burn them here and now, in case there is anything written here about my lab. Call me overly cautious but that is my nature. However, on this occasion, I will not, and trust that you acted out of ignorance. A very Zim way of thinking I feel."

It takes her several moments to process it before she bows respectfully in an apology: "I apologise for my ignorance, I hadn't considered that you might not know Aklo as I was under the impression it was a common language in the academic setting. I used it out of habit as that is the language I used most often in my prior alchemical research and which I routinely use for most of my important notes. If you wish, to remedy my mistake, I can rewrite them in Chelish and burn the Aklo original to demonstrate that the notes don't contain anything about your laboratory and only mention the de-petrification cure."

Victor would sigh. "Don't say it was a mistake, or a misunderstanding. You have been studying at the Academy for over a month, have you seen anything like this during that time? I think not. Maybe, maybe if you looked at some of the restricted sections in the archives you could find something like this. Just take the notes and go Madam, and if you so wish to remain a pupil at the academy, I will see you in class. If not, I believe our business is done."

[Llyarden]

Ari in the Dead Grove

"Mercy! I will trade information for my life!"

Breathing heavily, Ari brought his axe - now spattered with the fungal matter of the blighted satyr after having left a great wound in its side - back up to a guarding position and looked down at the creature that was cowering away from him. Still consumed in his instinctual battle-fury, as much to suppress the pain of whatever it was the dark fae had done to him as for any other reason, it took him a few moments to understand its words.

Almost before he'd consciously processed the creature's offer, still acting on instinct and all too conscious of the fact that the satyr's minions had displayed some capacity for healing, Ari stepped forwards and brought his axe down again, snarling something in a language that seemed somehow unearthly. "What mercy did you give to those that lived here before you?"

He stood still for a few moments, letting his faculties return as the pain ebbed away with the creature's destruction. Why did I do that?

He'd felt it in the ancient wizard's tower, but the feeling of definitive wrongness, of hatred, was even stronger in this place, even with the death of the blighted satyr. Where had it come from? He was sure that whatever it was was more than a mere emotion, protecting him somehow against the touch of the ghoul-goblins and the magical trap in the tower. It was similar to the feeling he'd had when he'd first seen Kat's true form, but easily a dozen times more powerful. Had the fae cat or the nixie done something to him to encourage him to work to revert this blight?

Somewhat lost in thought, Ari didn't even notice Imi and Kat return, standing over the body of the blighted fae, staring into the dead trees as if they might provide answers to the questions running through his head.