Melian Galanodel
Eladrin Bladesinger
AC: 13 HP: 14/14
PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 11
Conditions: --
Concentrating: --

Nodding agreement, Melian awkwardly tries to give Aintas a pat on the arm but, her own arms being full of arcane accoutrement, she ends up just sort of bumping him. "Agreed. Well, I'm now going to work on a hot bath and a tactical advantage," she says indicating the items she's carrying. "Sleep well, brother."

After a step or two she stops. "And many thanks for the story and the odds and ends, Bentley. You shall have these back early morning!"


Melian makes her way upstairs, dodging patrons here and there. Finding her own room, she enters and finds it empty. Gently laying the items on the unused bed, she makes good use of the bathtub and allows herself to relax and the tension in her shoulders to melt away.

She hangs her travel clothes up to dry and with practiced ease wicks the moisture away with her magic. She does the same with Caelyn's clothes and moves them away from the fireplace to prevent them from smelling of smoke.

"Now to the business at hand," she says out loud to an empty room. Taking some of her chalk she draws a summoning circle on the floor, making sure the lines are precise and the sigils correct. She places the brazier in its center and lights the charcoal, laying rosemary, thyme, bay and incense atop it to smolder. She breathes in the scented smoke and opens her spellbook, beginning the long incantation to summon a familiar. As she chants the old arcane words, she begins visualizing a piece of herself, of her essence, and starts giving it shape and purpose.

She then stops abruptly, not interrupting the ritual but bringing it to a stop and opening her eyes. Something she had read on her secret book came to mind, how the oldest, bravest warriors of Evermeet rode ancient dragons of tremendous power in ages gone by. She smiles and continues the ritual, shaping the raw essence into a winged creature, smart and bright-eyed, a dark crimson in color. As she opens her eyes, a tiny dragon stands before her, head tilted inquisitively as it takes in its surroundings.

Ritual complete, Melian breaks the circle and magically extinguishes the charcoal. She faces her familiar, letting their sense meld and then names it. "You are of me and also your own. You are Fëanáro - Spirit of Fire."

Suddenly very tired, Melian cleans the chalk marks from the floor, sets aside the items she borrowed, and then curls up on the bed, Fëanáro beside her.

Spoiler: OOC
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Prestidigitation to dry all the clothes.

Find Familiar to summon a Pseudodragon! This is a pared-down version of the warlock familiar or even the familiar variant side-bar. Familiar as per MM p. 254 except it cannot attack as usual familiars and it does not share the Magic Resistance trait. But hey, tiny dragon!