Famh smiles warmly as she glides along, undulating only slightly thanks to Cainneach 's guiding arm. She begins to draw him towards the spot she spoke to her friendly guard, but remembers in time that he wasn't all that friendly. In fact, the feartie gannet had gone off like a little piggy boy in the fairy tale and kept all the uisgebeatha all to his piggy self after promising to bring some back for Ori and Vardi to share. She'd even seen him grabbing up other bottles and stuffing them under his gambeson as he went, so that made him not only a pig but a hog. But another part of her brain is whispering to her that perhaps she doesn't need any uisgebeatha right now. Despite the impetuosity of her announcement, she actually has no idea what a trothplighting in fact entails, beyond drinking to each other which she's already handled quite handily ;). And while she's beginning to suspect she'll soon prefer the shadows, she has no clue what's expected of them right now: whether they're traditionally supposed to slip out for some alone time at this point; or if the Duke who'd so publicly approved the step she'd taken would be offended should they try to leave. She also thinks she heard mention of several other courses to come.
All things considered, she is quite ready to have her attention diverted into other channels by Cainneach's call to Thatch. "Whit wa' that, love?," she woozes into his shoulder. He repeats himself, and the unusual remark wakes her up immediately. "How odd! Perchance he's found ane of the 'corbies' Sir Almeric was telling Fergus to watch for. I heard them whisperin' about some rumour of 'corbies on the docks'. And though I'd love naught better, I'm not sure whether we're supposed to actually leave the hall to whisper our sweet nothings. If it chances to be naught, we could still slip aside where Ori's talking to that lass and get acquainted just enough to be polite before finding a shadow of our own. But don't forget what ye were saying earlier for when we CAN be alone together. Many's the aching-toed evening I've thought a foot massage would be the height of heaven, and I'd imagine you've had a few of your own so I'd gladly learn how so I could thank ye with the same . . . "
Should Thatch share what he's seen in response to her questions, a much more clouded look comes across Famh's brow than has been there of late. She chews her nails, tapping her cheek with her forefinger and muttering, "A great cat ... A disappearing lady ... And bats? 'Flying mice', yes, but no cat I knew actually climbed up and ate ... " (Arcana roll in log: 17) Her voice trails off, and her arm wraps around Cainneach, and he can feel that a miracle has been achieved.
Famh is instantly sober, and ... at least for the moment ... very quiet.
Almeric is embarrassed at his unknowing faux pas. "You have nothing to be forgiven for lady. I had not intended to pry of offend." Almeric's face is written with the unspoken narrative of nobility that had driven the statement. The Duke has but one son and three daughters. His wife was dead a score years hence and it would be prudent to remarry a young wife and have a second male heir to secure his bloodline and noble house. He is stopped dead by Ailsa's flirtatious remark. The Hart had revealed herself and now the hunt was afoot!
===
After speaking with the Lords, he sallied forth to hunt the Hart once more. Almeric considered Varni briefly, through his Capellar lens. A Smith, a rare talent, 'Jotnblud', this is just the kind of operator that interests him. Almeric's attention was immediately brought back to Ailsa, as soon as she drops her guard and giggles at his joke about Famh.
"I am really enjoying your charming, graceful, generous and witty company. I would like to spent some more time with you, when my duties permit." Almeric moves into Ailsa's personal space and and lowers his voice. "I am not in a position to pursue, no matter my feelings on the matter. I have no gold, land, title, or rank that is my own, nor even a horse. All I have is what I carry and what has been gifted to me." Almeric steps back, takes the ladies hand and kisses it graciously, and excuses himself, "I bid you good night, sweet lady"
Moving across to the Retinue, he approaches Ori and Vardi. "Vardi the Smith, called Jotnblud, I am Almeric Dayne, honoured to meet you." Almeric nods to Vardi in respect. "If I may speak with my Sergeant, I shall return him to you momentarily." Almeric speaks to Ori immediately, without waiting for Vardi to withdraw. "Sergeant, we may be marching tomorrow. Please have everyone up early for morning ablutions and breakfast, ready in full armour and weapons. Fergus and Tana will remain behind, on guard duty." Almeric eyes Vardi once more through his military lens, gauging her strength and ability."This makes our patrol light, but it is necessary to divide our force. If another person could make up our strength?" Almeric nods to Ori, spins on his heel and moves to Famh and Cainneach.
Almeric was thinking about chastising Famh, when he saw her sober and quiet...
All things considered, she is quite ready to have her attention diverted into other channels by Cainneach's call to Thatch. "Whit wa' that, love?," she woozes into his shoulder. He repeats himself, and the unusual remark wakes her up immediately. "How odd! Perchance he's found ane of the 'corbies' Sir Almeric was telling Fergus to watch for. I heard them whisperin' about some rumour of 'corbies on the docks'. And though I'd love naught better, I'm not sure whether we're supposed to actually leave the hall to whisper our sweet nothings. If it chances to be naught, we could still slip aside where Ori's talking to that lass and get acquainted just enough to be polite before finding a shadow of our own. But don't forget what ye were saying earlier for when we CAN be alone together. Many's the aching-toed evening I've thought a foot massage would be the height of heaven, and I'd imagine you've had a few of your own so I'd gladly learn how so I could thank ye with the same . . . "
Should Thatch share what he's seen in response to her questions, a much more clouded look comes across Famh's brow than has been there of late. She chews her nails, tapping her cheek with her forefinger and muttering, "A great cat ... A disappearing lady ... And bats? 'Flying mice', yes, but no cat I knew actually climbed up and ate ... " (Arcana roll in log: 17) Her voice trails off, and her arm wraps around Cainneach, and he can feel that a miracle has been achieved.
Famh is instantly sober, and ... at least for the moment ... very quiet.
(Before the edit of Almeric's last post, I was just going to have Cainneach shrug at him and give him a look that said "Yeah dude, I know, what do you think I'm doing?" ;-)
"I dinnae know what's so puzzling about corbies on the docks, Famh. Those birds are anywhere and everywhere. Rarely up in rafters in castles, I'd think, unless they found a good reason to be. You know, they're quite smart. Dru and I always tried to have a couple trained to help us keep an eye on things in the forest, but they'd eventually lose interest and we'd have to find new ones to convince. And don't worry about leaving, leannan, we've got our marching orders from the fearless leader over there." He nods in acknowledgement to Almeric as the Capellar makes his way toward the exit. "I think it's time we head back to our rooms, sadly parting ways, but I can swear that my dreams will be filled with nothing but you tonight! Don't think too hard on whatever lurks above in this hall, Thatch has it well spotted I'm sure. Just get some sleep and be ready for whatever tomorrow brings us."Cainneach enjoys her warmth and is filled with love and pride as the pair make their way down the halls.
Ori makes no move as Almeric approaches. It wasn't that Ori was being uncivil with the man, he just wasn't concerned with putting the extra effort in to not offend like he was trying, and probably failing, with Vardi. She was trying to make an effort to interact with Ori, Almeric had been on that boat with Ori all that time and should be well aware of Ori's current state. Ori merely grunts to Almeric at the mention of getting the other ready early the following day. After returning the nod as Almeric starts to move away, still staring out at the quieting dance floor. "Seems you have more titles then I, and famous enough that our fearless leader knows of ya. Seems I'm gonna have to ask for a rain check to my last rain check. The broken stool will have to wait it seems. Now I have to find someone else who wants to have their morning ruined and march without knowing a destination with the only promise of our lots company." It was obvious Almeric wanted him to try and convince Vardi to join but he wouldn't ask it of her. Poor thing just want to dance and Almericwanted to put her in potentially harms way. Surely she wouldn't want anything to do with him after meeting him in this dark state. But if she wanted to partake, he had to admit he was curious on what she could do out there, and that's a dance Ori is always up for.
Almeric: "Vardi the Smith, called Jotnblud, I am Almeric Dayne, honoured to meet you."
Vardi once again dips her head and curtseys, then answers "Likerwise, ser."with a grateful smile, as she is shy by nature, but also proud of her heritage, even if it sometimes makes people stare and whisper after her in the street. She unconsciously straightens her back in that same pride. Her head narrowly misses the rafter support as she does so.
Almeric: "If I may speak with my Sergeant, I shall return him to you momentarily."
The big lass nods, and steps back a half-pace from the two gentlemen, in a well-meant attempt to give at least the illusion of privacy to talk. Despite her good intentions, her ears cannot help overhearing their words.
Almeric: "...If another person could make up our strength?"
Vardi shows no signs of hearing this hidden plea but for a pensive expression.
Ori: "Seems you have more titles then I, and famous enough that our fearless leader knows of ya. Seems I'm gonna have to ask for a rain check to my last rain check. The broken stool will have to wait it seems. Now I have to find someone else who wants to have their morning ruined and march without knowing a destination with the only promise of our lots company."
Vardi holds up a large hand and replies in an apologetic tone "I cannay hide wha' I am from ye, Ori, only who I am, and tha' is being kin to ta giants of old. With tha' comes the burden of usin' tha strengths of tha blood we of Hrosskelda are gifted with in service to tha one who protects tha land and tha people of Thurland."
She smiles as she pats Ori on the shoulder and asks "Do ye think tha' fine mannered commander of yers would mind if I tagged along with yer mad lot of freelances for a bit? Could use a break from forgework awhile."
Well clearly the Smith picked up on recruitment call of Almeric. Well she clearly has interest in joining up, he wasn't going to stop her. As proper manored as she was, she sure had the presence as well, maybe she could take his role in no time! Well as wishful thinking as that was, time will test her skill and Ori was not one to throw one to the fire without some sort of a safety net, usually as disguised as he can manage the situation. "Well lets see here, it appears you have good taste in company, you survived the Famh trial, and, most importantly, you managed to not let the pillar fall. Alright, I'll pull some strings and work my magic, and if your still smitin' with the idea after any liquid courage has faded, well then we'll be seeing each other in the morn." He notices the lovebirds making their exit.
"Well duty calls, I will bid you farwell as I fear must protect the poor young man in over head on this one." Ori steps back from the post and looks up as if it may in fact fall. Giving it a nod he turns to Vadri and gives a farewell nod as well and turns to leave.
Seeing Thatch staring off into the rafters, Ori thinks it best they both return to their stables. "The morning comes sooner then you yet yet realize, best we make sure Cainneach and Famh make it back to someone's room in one piece. Sounds like to rest for the wary." He puts a hand on the youths shoulder and starts leading him towards the door, deciding not to ask about what Thatch was focused on.
Skuggavardi returns to your side as you leave the hall, you know you'll need to have a chat with Morag in the morn regarding a leave of absence but it won't be an issue...hopefully not an issue further up the chain but very unlikely. You know where the visitors are staying because everyone in the Keep knows where they are staying.
Almeric-
Quite what tomorow will bring you still don't know but you have questions and concerns for every member of the Family Carnasse....or at least you hopefully will have after a full debrief. The feast seemed to go well as could be expected and for folks not raised with much if any direct contact with the upper echelons your retinue acquitted themselves well.
Cainneach/Famh-
An escort back to your quarters where Tana is studiously ignoring anything happening between Famh and Cainneach at the door while she hastily finishes up her report for Almeric.
After saying your goodbyes ( feel free to do so) you retire for the night....possibly sleeping very soundly indeed.
Fergus, Thatch and Ori are in when Cainneach returns to his room...Salt is already there asleep on his back with his legs in the air...
Ori + Thatch-
You make your way back to the room passing Cainneach and Famh in the hallway, when you arrive back at the room Fergus is in the middle of making out a list and report for Sir Almeric.
" Enjoy yerselves?", he grins with a slight wink at Ori acknowledging the answer is likely 'no'.
" Oh..this was left for you.", Fergus held out a silver and black banded marotte with a pewter stylized depiction of Oris face upon it dressed in a bearskin hood.
Thatch, when he retired for the night, found a primrose sprig under his pillow.
You turn in for the night knowing you need be up in the morning.
Almeric will stay by Aldred's side, until the final and quiet end of the banquette, to escort him safely to his chambers. He is still concerned about the general safety in the keep, considering it to be far from secure. If alone with the Duke and Baron, Almeric will look away and play deaf, as is polite, hoping only to hear positive words regarding his attendance to Lady Ailsa during the evening.
Almeric is happier that everyone else has gone to their chambers, as some need their sleep! Happier still that they might have a Jotnblud in their ranks tomorrow, to face the days task.
All things considered, she is quite ready to have her attention diverted into other channels by Cainneach's call to Thatch. "Whit wa' that, love?," she woozes into his shoulder. He repeats himself, and the unusual remark wakes her up immediately. "How odd! Perchance he's found ane of the 'corbies' Sir Almeric was telling Fergus to watch for. I heard them whisperin' about some rumour of 'corbies on the docks'. And though I'd love naught better, I'm not sure whether we're supposed to actually leave the hall to whisper our sweet nothings. If it chances to be naught, we could still slip aside where Ori's talking to that lass and get acquainted just enough to be polite before finding a shadow of our own. But don't forget what ye were saying earlier for when we CAN be alone together. Many's the aching-toed evening I've thought a foot massage would be the height of heaven, and I'd imagine you've had a few of your own so I'd gladly learn how so I could thank ye with the same . . . "
Should Thatch share what he's seen in response to her questions, a much more clouded look comes across Famh's brow than has been there of late. She chews her nails, tapping her cheek with her forefinger and muttering, "A great cat ... A disappearing lady ... And bats? 'Flying mice', yes, but no cat I knew actually climbed up and ate ... " (Arcana roll in log: 17) Her voice trails off, and her arm wraps around Cainneach, and he can feel that a miracle has been achieved.
Famh is instantly sober, and ... at least for the moment ... very quiet.
(Before the edit of Almeric's last post, I was just going to have Cainneach shrug at him and give him a look that said "Yeah dude, I know, what do you think I'm doing?" ;-)
"I dinnae know what's so puzzling about corbies on the docks, Famh. Those birds are anywhere and everywhere. Rarely up in rafters in castles, I'd think, unless they found a good reason to be. You know, they're quite smart. Dru and I always tried to have a couple trained to help us keep an eye on things in the forest, but they'd eventually lose interest and we'd have to find new ones to convince. And don't worry about leaving, leannan, we've got our marching orders from the fearless leader over there." He nods in acknowledgement to Almeric as the Capellar makes his way toward the exit. "I think it's time we head back to our rooms, sadly parting ways, but I can swear that my dreams will be filled with nothing but you tonight! Don't think too hard on whatever lurks above in this hall, Thatch has it well spotted I'm sure. Just get some sleep and be ready for whatever tomorrow brings us."Cainneach enjoys her warmth and is filled with love and pride as the pair make their way down the halls.
"Aye, that's the thing. You'd not think anything of corbies, but they're troubling Sir Almeric. I heard him whisper to Fergus that he'd heard a rumour he wanted us all to investigate. Something to do with, 'corbies on the docks'. And ye ken well which of the Old Gods a corbie's the symbol and favored form of." She looks straight into his eyes; her own are suddenly very deep and solemn. "The Morrigu. Goddess of war ... "
"I'm fearing it might be a code or signal of some sort. But as for the rest ... " She stops suddenly and turns to face him, hands on her hips, her brows gathering together.
"Cainneach Strachan, I'm surprised at you. And not a little hurt." He sees the pout forming on her lips and braces for the coming storm; then he thinks to check her eye for tears and is mightily relieved to find a teasing twinkle there instead. "Are you telling me I spent all this time making sure I had a pretty earasaid for our engagement night; and Lady Ailsawas gracious enough to do up my hair so stunningly, and I've had sae little impact on you that you can actually imagine sleeping tonight?!" She artfully deepens the pout to obvious ... indeed, comedically exaggerated ... levels. "Have a care I don't start to find such indifference a bit of a slur on my beauty ... " Pretending to relent, she does smile at him then. The sun comes out after an eclipse. A thousand beacons are kindled in Beltayn, and ten thousand shine out from Katorheim across the waves to join their light to the joyous conflagration. "But if we have actual orders from our Capellar to retire to a more private setting ...well, we DID swear him obedience, now didn't we? I'll just help out a bit first, and then we can be on our way."
Before Cainneach has a chance to recover from the horrified immobility the words, 'I'll just help out a bit first ...' have frozen him into, Famh tilts her head back and begins to sing, as if the joy of their betrothal had swept her up into another of her fits of excess. But he can see the Famh in her eyes subtly change, and he knows she is working her faerie magic into the song in a way that is aimed wholly at the shadows above and shouldn't become obvious to anyone who's as grounded as they ought to be. And the clue lets his sharp eyes pick out the spot in the rafters where shadows are twisting and thickening into the image of an exceedingly plump and delectable bat. It lifts its wings and begins to flap as if beginning to get ready to fly. It is surely only a coincidence that it is situated at the spot where the cat above would have to reveal itself in full flank view to those below for at LEAST thirty seconds to have any hope of capturing it, and might well have to chase it for thirty more if it proves too nimble to be caught by the initial pounce(minor illusion).
To those not in the secret, however, Famh's voice simply soars out joyously as she throws her head back to get a better breath for singing,
"I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head, and cut and peeled a hazel wand, and hooked a berry on a thread. And when white moths were on the wing, and moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in the stream and caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor, I went to blow the fire a-flame: But something rustled on the floor, and someone called me by my name!
It had become a glimmering girl, with apple-blossom in her hair who called me by my name, and ran, and faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, and kiss her lips, and take her hands; and walk among long dappled grass, and pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun."
With lyrics such as that, the immediate personal application of her song would be plainly obvious even if she hadn't illustrated the line about "taking hands" with appropriate gestures in taking the only possible appropriate hands in hers as she sings, or drawn Cainneach to her for an immediate illustration of the kiss as soon as she finishes singing. As she draws his head close, she pretends he's fending off an attempt by her to nibble his ear and whispers, "Sorry, but right off the coop I couldn't think of any other distraction that would serve so well while Thatch and any of the others who've noticed watch the cat. And everyone's used to me by now, or ought to be."
Ori leads Thatch into their chamber and turns to shut the door behind them but hesitates as he listens for the other 2 in the halls, but Famh's full volume singing wasn't anything one had to listen closely to hear. So Ori closed to door and turned to see Fergus, being studious as ever, Almeric had beet not think Ori was going to assume those duties if Fergus's absence. Ori gives an acknowledging grunt to the scribe joke, but stops dead in his tracks at the sight of what lies in Fergus's out stretch hand. Ori's mood had improved a bit on the walk back to their rooms, thinking about the teams new recruit and what she could bring to the teams dynamics, but he went cold now. He eyes got wide in horror and flared in rage, muscles tence. In a slightly elevated voice, talking through his teeth, Ori said "Who gave that to you? WHO I SAY?" With 2 steps Ori cleared half the room before Fergus could rise from his seat. Ori grabbed a handful of the man's collar, twisted and picked him up to his feet. Ori didn't pick him up off the ground but Fergus feet didn't have much work left to do. "ANSWER ME MAN! WHO GAVE THAT TO YOU I WANT NAMES!" He grabs the handle in his other hand. Ori let's him go as Fergus gives him the answer Ori knew, he didn't know. Stepping away from the suprised scribe, Ori grabs the marotte with his other hand and goes to break it in half, when suddenly a memory hits him. He can see it clear as day like he was reliving the event. Standing roughly where he is now, he was getting fitted. Fabric stretched acrossed him to gather his sizes, and there it was, a grimace. Staring at his back, Lady Ailsa grimaced at the sight of something on his back. Ori let's go of the marotte with one hand and places it in an overly familiar spot, right wear the mask is. "That Witch thinks she can mess with me, WITH ME!" As if the memory fast forward to the moment Lady Ailsa leaves and Cainneach said "I don't think the Lady used any magic, but I wouldn't have guessed such a thing would be possible without it!"
Ori's eyes dart back and forth between the 2 others in the room as the memories fade and he is seeing the present again. Half hearted apologizes and promises it was nothing and just the sea sickness messing with his head and judgment plus the booze he drank at the party. He promised them he would be back to his old ways after a good night of sleep and avoided answering and questions either tried to ask him.
Once Ori is able to smooth things other with the roommates before Cainneach returns, he starts thinking about the circumstances around the mask when he first received it as well, well this time he has a lead of who was behind it and he would have answers this time.
Thatch’s face, already flushed from drink, turns to embarrassment as Cainneach calls to him across the floor. He joins them and answers Famh “No corbies. I thought I saw something, but twas just a bat meeting its unfortunate end at the hands of a cat. Oh, and cats can climb up to the rafters just fine, we had an old tabby back in the Dayne household stables, she was quite the mouser, that one was.”
He excused himself awkwardly as the conversation turned to foot rubs and other matters he considered best not heard and he rejoined Ori as the feast came to a close and they headed back to the rooms. “Who was your new friend, Ori? She was hard to miss in that crowd.” Thatch was not surprised to see Fergus already back at the rooms, and at work scratching out figures. The man did not seem like one who embraced a good time. He was surprised at the sudden outburst of anger from Ori. Thatch reached out to aid Fergus and Ori calmed down quickly, but was still unsettled by the strange gift and refused to talk anymore about it that evening. Thatch was surprised to find a gift of his own as he went to bed, a sprig of primrose under his pillow. He took a small sniff of its fragrance and drifted off to sleep wondering who had placed it there.
As Famh raises her head, she realizes no one is left to watch the cat. She too has known mousers in barns, but they always confined themselves to mice. Bats were an exceedingly unusual addition to their diet. And while she knows nothing as yet of the full tragedy, she knows the first Duchess is dead; and she has been told by Cainneach of the uncanny Lady Margie who appears out of nowhere, terrifying chambermaids; and who he saw with such a wistful pang on her face when Famh announced their betrothal. And witches and ghosts taking feline form are almost as common in Thulish folktales as are the Morrigu's corvine transformations. Famh is NOT leaving this hall without learning all she can about Thatch 's cat!
"'An donas dubh ... ,' she begins to swear under her breath in Thulish before the bright side of the situation hits her. A free kiss from Cainneach, after all, is nothing to be sneezed at! She smiles happily and allows him to draw her from the hall. As slowly as possible, while she finishes her magical cat-herding to draw the creature out as much as possible. She seems to be gazing about her at the hall to imprint the happy memory on her mind; but she will actually watch for the cat and ... at the least ... imprint its exact markings in her mind.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Famh presses Cainneach's hand affectionately once the escort leads them back to their rooms. "I was only teasin'. I know we'll both have the happiest of dreams tonight about our future together; and you did say Sir Almeric was planning for an early start. I'll pack away this nice new earasaid to wear on our wedding day, and then I'll curl up in my old one and outer plaid." She kisses him goodnight and watches him fondly out of sight and then blurts out to Tana, "The maddest thing is, I meant every single word but I never planned to be so bold! I only tried to steal a kiss in the dance as he had; but I turned at just the wrong moment and it was like we were playing on the hautbois! I thought then, well, I've gone and practically announced it to the whole Great Hall anyway, so ... well, that's how it happened." As she speaks, she is changing into her old outfit. She seems to be having a lot of trouble with her belt, and winds up wrapping quite a long coil of rope around her waist. Then she turns to Tana again. "I forgot ... my plaid's stiff with sea spray yet. Would you happen to have a hood and cloak I could borrow?" If the other woman has none, she improvises one from the material she bought earlier. She is just wrapping it about her when she seems to remember something. "Excuse me. I ... left something behind." Opening the door and looking out to see there are no prying eyes about whose unwelcome attention she might have drawn with her histrionics in the Great Hall, she slips out into the shadowy corridor.
As Famh raises her head, she realizes no one is left to watch the cat. She too has known mousers in barns, but they always confined themselves to mice. Bats were an exceedingly unusual addition to their diet. And while she knows nothing as yet of the full tragedy, she knows the first Duchess is dead; and she has been told by Cainneach of the uncanny Lady Margie who appears out of nowhere, terrifying chambermaids; and who he saw with such a wistful pang on her face when Famh announced their betrothal. And witches and ghosts taking feline form are almost as common in Thulish folktales as are the Morrigu's corvine transformations. Famh is NOT leaving this hall without learning all she can about Thatch 's cat!
"'An donas dubh ... ,' she begins to swear under her breath in Thulish before the bright side of the situation hits her. A free kiss from Cainneach, after all, is nothing to be sneezed at! She smiles happily and allows him to draw her from the hall. As slowly as possible, while she finishes her magical cat-herding to draw the creature out as much as possible. She seems to be gazing about her at the hall to imprint the happy memory on her mind; but she will actually watch for the cat and ... at the least ... imprint its exact markings in her mind.
===========================
Investigation 12
The feline seems to have slipped Famhs net for the time being.....
Famh presses Cainneach's hand affectionately once the escort leads them back to their rooms. "I was only teasin'. I know we'll both have the happiest of dreams tonight about our future together; and you did say Sir Almeric was planning for an early start. I'll pack away this nice new earasaid to wear on our wedding day, and then I'll curl up in my old one and outer plaid." She kisses him goodnight and watches him fondly out of sight and then blurts out to Tana, "The maddest thing is, I meant every single word but I never planned to be so bold! I only tried to steal a kiss in the dance as he had; but I turned at just the wrong moment and it was like we were playing on the hautbois! I thought then, well, I've gone and practically announced it to the whole Great Hall anyway, so ... well, that's how it happened." As she speaks, she is changing into her old outfit. She seems to be having a lot of trouble with her belt, and winds up wrapping quite a long coil of rope around her waist. Then she turns to Tana again. "I forgot ... my plaid's stiff with sea spray yet. Would you happen to have a hood and cloak I could borrow?" If the other woman has none, she improvises one from the material she bought earlier. She is just wrapping it about her when she seems to remember something. "Excuse me. I ... left something behind." Opening the door and looking out to see there are no prying eyes about whose unwelcome attention she might have drawn with her histrionics in the Great Hall, she slips out into the shadowy corridor.
===========================
Stealth 24
Famh becomes one with the shadows and prowls the hallways of the keep.....
Ori leads Thatch into their chamber and turns to shut the door behind them but hesitates as he listens for the other 2 in the halls, but Famh's full volume singing wasn't anything one had to listen closely to hear. So Ori closed to door and turned to see Fergus, being studious as ever, Almeric had beet not think Ori was going to assume those duties if Fergus's absence. Ori gives an acknowledging grunt to the scribe joke, but stops dead in his tracks at the sight of what lies in Fergus's out stretch hand. Ori's mood had improved a bit on the walk back to their rooms, thinking about the teams new recruit and what she could bring to the teams dynamics, but he went cold now. He eyes got wide in horror and flared in rage, muscles tence. In a slightly elevated voice, talking through his teeth, Ori said "Who gave that to you? WHO I SAY?" With 2 steps Ori cleared half the room before Fergus could rise from his seat. Ori grabbed a handful of the man's collar, twisted and picked him up to his feet. Ori didn't pick him up off the ground but Fergus feet didn't have much work left to do. "ANSWER ME MAN! WHO GAVE THAT TO YOU I WANT NAMES!" He grabs the handle in his other hand. Ori let's him go as Fergus gives him the answer Ori knew, he didn't know. Stepping away from the suprised scribe, Ori grabs the marotte with his other hand and goes to break it in half, when suddenly a memory hits him. He can see it clear as day like he was reliving the event. Standing roughly where he is now, he was getting fitted. Fabric stretched acrossed him to gather his sizes, and there it was, a grimace. Staring at his back, Lady Ailsa grimaced at the sight of something on his back. Ori let's go of the marotte with one hand and places it in an overly familiar spot, right wear the mask is. "That Witch thinks she can mess with me, WITH ME!" As if the memory fast forward to the moment Lady Ailsa leaves and Cainneach said "I don't think the Lady used any magic, but I wouldn't have guessed such a thing would be possible without it!"
Ori's eyes dart back and forth between the 2 others in the room as the memories fade and he is seeing the present again. Half hearted apologizes and promises it was nothing and just the sea sickness messing with his head and judgment plus the booze he drank at the party. He promised them he would be back to his old ways after a good night of sleep and avoided answering and questions either tried to ask him.
Once Ori is able to smooth things other with the roommates before Cainneach returns, he starts thinking about the circumstances around the mask when he first received it as well, well this time he has a lead of who was behind it and he would have answers this time.
Indeed Fergus confirms a knock at the door and the marotte left behind but no one in the corridor, in truth he had assumed it was left for Ori.....certainly not for Thatch or himself....and likely not Cainneach.
He excused himself awkwardly as the conversation turned to foot rubs and other matters he considered best not heard and he rejoined Ori as the feast came to a close and they headed back to the rooms. “Who was your new friend, Ori? She was hard to miss in that crowd.” Thatch was not surprised to see Fergus already back at the rooms, and at work scratching out figures. The man did not seem like one who embraced a good time. He was surprised at the sudden outburst of anger from Ori. Thatch reached out to aid Fergus and Ori calmed down quickly, but was still unsettled by the strange gift and refused to talk anymore about it that evening. Thatch was surprised to find a gift of his own as he went to bed, a sprig of primrose under his pillow. He took a small sniff of its fragrance and drifted off to sleep wondering who had placed it there.
Thatchs dreams were pleasant recalling brisk morning rides on Shuck and the smell of baked apples and oatmeal.......and a dark haired stranger who flitted at the edge of his vision and smelled faintly of primrose....
Almeric will stay by Aldred's side, until the final and quiet end of the banquette, to escort him safely to his chambers. He is still concerned about the general safety in the keep, considering it to be far from secure. If alone with the Duke and Baron, Almeric will look away and play deaf, as is polite, hoping only to hear positive words regarding his attendance to Lady Ailsa during the evening.
Almeric is happier that everyone else has gone to their chambers, as some need their sleep! Happier still that they might have a Jotnblud in their ranks tomorrow, to face the days task.
Baron Aldred bids Duke Carnasse a good night and, other than the servants, the three are the last to leave the hall.
As they walk back Baron Aldred shares that things seem to be going well and that Almerics retinue were the talk of the High Table.
At the point that Famh once again confounded him with her very particular brand of charm and, especially once she started crafting her illusion and singing, Cainneach realized that he was far too tired to put up any form of protest. Instead, after she finishes her performance and they make their way to her room, he pulls Famh as close to him as he can while she speaks to him at her chamber door. When she finishes, he whispers in her ear, "Perhaps you and I can wear these outfits for our wedding before these 'civilized' folks, but I think we'll need something different when I ask for your hand before your people. And I think it will be even more beautiful, although seeing you before me now it's hard to imagine that being possible."Cainneach kisses her gently on the neck and pulls back a bit to look at her. The look on his face is one of drowsy contentment as he summons another compliment for his betrothed. "Famh, your voice is as lovely as the lark's and your choice of song superior. I'm guessing the hour is nearly that at which those birds raise their voices. I wish this night could go on forever, but I can't dream of you, of us, if I don't get some sleep. And the gods only know what errand Almeric is going to drag us out on tomorrow morning, but it's certain he'll be insufferable if we're not in good working order." He leans in to kiss her one last time and whispers in her ear again, "Until the 'morn, milady. And thank you ..." With that, Cainneach turns and heads back to the room he shares with the other members of the retinue.
Upon entering, he finds the aftermath of the confrontation between Fergus and Ori, a palpable tension. Cainneach gives Thatch a questioning look, but thinks better of making a verbal inquiry to Ori or Fergus. Instead, the forester makes a show of a big yawn and stretch, quietly says, "What a night, eh fellas?", hoping for no response, then quickly changes back to his usual clothes, gives Salt a quick belly rub, then hops into bed. His dreams are typically nonsensical, liberally weaving together elements from their time on the Linden, the procession through the city, the dinner and all that entailed, and of Famh. She wasn't in distress, but was just out of reach throughout. Assuming the night passes uneventfully, Cainneach is slightly unsettled when he wakes. And has a bit of a headache.
Vardi pays careful attention to Sergeant Ori's words, the change from dancing manners to silent alertness evident in her stance, her left arm already falling into shield position even if long practice keeps her other hand away from the feasting knife* on her belt.
Ori: "Well lets see here, it appears you have good taste in company, you survived the Famh trial, and, most importantly, you managed to not let the pillar fall. Alright, I'll pull some strings and work my magic, and if your still smitin' with the idea after any liquid courage has faded, well then we'll be seeing each other in the morn."
The big woman smiles and says "I need no help fromHeidrun's milk to ask a worthy man to dance, nor to ask leave to go a viking, just a nudge in the right direction from a friend. If Master Gregor gives the nod to it as well, I'll se ye come dawn ser."
Ori: "Well duty calls, I will bid you farwell as I fear must protect the poor young man in over head on this one."
With a nod in return, and a quietly spoken "Good night and good luck to ye, Ori. Forgive me I leave yer rank for now, but I will remember to use it in the morning proper like." the Jotunblood lass returns to Morag's company to impart some news and ask for a favor.
Only after the Laird of the city departs the great hall does she and her not quite rascally drunk sister in smithing leave, briefly checking inside her lidded basket before she goes.
(OOC: I've realized just now, this episode provides a good illustration of how my thinking is crystallizing around the larger issue of Famh's role in the team in general. I' can talk more in the OOC thread if I remember, but basically I'm seeing Famh as our fearless strategist's switch hitter. She's EXCELLENT at the over-the-top distractions, albeit with the corresponding risk of outbreaks like this on her own dime until she gets more seasoning in the mature Famh controlling herself. But she ALSO lucked out on the DEX (as in, 18 / 18 dex/int split for which the dice goddesses and gods all be blessed) and is specifically skilled in Acrobatics thanks to climbing and writhing up mountainsides after sheep, so she's also not a bad surprise / backup stealth and second-story operator for times when Thatch et. al. are being watched or want a break)
As Famh slips quietly down the corridors, dressed in her old and faded earasaid and with the borrowed hood arranged with carefully planned inattention to conceal her features as much as possible*, few who had seen her in the Great Hall mere minutes before would believe this was the same young woman who had so brazenly laid claim to her Cainneach before the Duke of Carnasse at his own high table when what he was actually engaged in was welcoming another king's Baron, and lived to tell the tale. And her destination would make them think twice too. Instead of heading directly back to the door she just emerged from, Famh is putting on a meek demeanor and following at a distance the least consequential freewoman servant of the kitchens she might see in any given section of hall who is going in the general direction she wishes to go. This is, to flank the Great Hall while appearing to be a newly prenticed and appropriately modest under-servant, until she sees if there is a way to slip aside unseen and climb up into the rafters of the whole place. From there she hopes to find the cat she saw from below in the Great Hall, if it is still aloft. She fears she may have revealed her presence to the other fey sorceress, if such the cat is, with her illusionary bat. But she would take bets the last thing the other would expect as a followup was Famhcrobat climbing up to investigate personally rather than relying on a spell. Besides, herAos Sidhe hadn't TAUGHT her any spells for gathering information yet. She makes a mental note to have a little talk with them about that, but she also too eagerly inaticipates the spell she's been half-promised ... the one that would begin to teach her how to un-elk herself if it ever happened again ([spell[alter self[/spell]) ... to trouble about it more than that. Besides, that latter spell would have been decidedly useful in her current investigations had her initial breakthrough insight into the nature of her fey powers come sooner enough for her to have learnt it. She sets her jaw instead, and refocuses her concentration on easing through the most dimly lit places with the same casual care as she has so far; and once she sees a way aloft, on climbing as nimbly .. she fervently prays to all seven Persons of the One True Holiness who is Gatanades as she understands Them** ,,, as the cat she is in pursuit of (Acrobatics 25). And if anyone seems too curious but yet is far enough away to miss her subtle finger flicks and quietly murmured Thulish incantations vocalized in her throat with closed lips as quietly as she can, Famh will use her [spell]minor illusion[.spell] spell to create a distraction: beautiful singing echoing down the hall from behind the observer, as if some young page were trying his voice at a moment he thought there were no listeners ... perhaps practicing in secret in hopes of agreeably surprising his lady-love, master or mistress as the quality folks continue their far duller banquet without Famh there to amuse them ;). The rippling contrasoprano soars out in Thulish, then in Albish, on a heartstopping - for whatever reason (Performance 16) - paraphrase of a longer ballad, The Blue Bells of Thuland:
O where, oh where, has your highland laddie gone? (O where, oh where, has your highland laddie gone?) He's gone wi' streaming banners, where noble deeds are done;; and its Oh!, in my heart, I wish him safe at home.
Oh what, oh what, if your highland lad should die? (Oh what, oh what, if your highland lad should die?) I'll mourn him by the burnside, and keen beneath the sky; and the blue-bells of Thuland will toll as we pass by,"
The last notes with their unspoken implication of the lover's immediately succeeding death, most probably of a broken heart, hang in the air an heartbreakingly eternal instant. Then the listener wipes the tears from their eyes and ... Famh is gone.
At least, that's the plan. She fervently hopes she will have no need to put it to the trial.
===========================
*=====(Deception 8, to hide the design behind the disheveling, or her identity, should anyone observe her closely enough to warrant an opposed DC check. I lumped both rolls into one for convenience, but naturally if D_M prefers separate rolls I'll be glad to drop one in with a quote-edit.. ... And OF COURSE the lytics to the song 'Secret Agent Famh' were the mental soundtrack the whole time I was composing this LOL)
**=====(The Seven clear and obvious Persons of Gatanades, according to Famh and anyone else with a drop of common sense who isn't so trapped in their own boy-headed playground bully stupidity of beating each other up over "My God's better than your God!" when any idiot can see that if they all say to love eachother and they all say not to be mean to each other, why are you stupid heads fighing about anything else, as to see it; are as follows:
⦁ Gatanades,. Well, duh. Nice sort of fellow, the kind who shared loaves and fishes with people like Famh. NOT the horrible bully folks like ... well, Sir Almeric's nice but ... well, um, I like the Baron too .. and the Duke and Ailsa and Sir Mary and Sir Moluag and everyone else who prays at the high folks' church but farts in plain Thulish just like.. um ...well, anyway, SOMEBODY made him out way meaner than he really is, and they're going to be sorry on the Last Day, you can be sure of THAT!
⦁ The Pantocreature or whatever they call that second fellow in Old Emphidian ... now why couldn't the Emphidians have named him in good plain common-sense THULISH<>! It would be so mych easier to pronounce ... um, what was I thinking again? Oh bother, how am I supposed to remember things exactly, its my engagement night, and the Duke was so nice to throw a feast so perfectly timed for me and Cainneach to celebrate it. I am rather beginning to like ... oh, buit poor Ailsa! I caught something in her eyes this evening, I know I did. I've got to make friends with her ... and with Vardi ... and ... anyway, as I was saying
... that's about all the use I've got for this Pantocritic fellow. That's EXACTLY what I was talking about. Judgemental arrogant snot. *sniff* Who asked him to set HIMself up as "Judge of the World"? I bet HE would have thrown stones at me tonight for spoiling the Baron's and the Duke's feast. I didn't MEAN to!!!!!! Really I ... oh, bother, I always get muddled when I think about Pan. Ah ... --- ... ummmmmmm...
⦁ No, I absolutely positively most certainly wasn't thinking about the EMPHIDEAN GOD Pan. And never you mind. That's a lady's own business. Well, then we have the Father, whatever they're calling him these days ...
... well, REALLY! If they're fighting about the PANTOCRATOR ... that was it! Must make a note of that. Well, anyway, OBVIOUSLY if Gatanades was the SON he has to have a Father. AND a mother. Don't ye try and tell ME, TONIGHT, anything different. It only stands to nature, The Father IS the God of Love, they say it themselves, well then he must get lonely sometimes. And then he looks up here to Thuland and he casts his eyes on the marvelous beaury, the fire, the power in smithcraft, in one of the arts of Creation of which they themselves also say he is the God ... and She certainly is the Goddess of Smiths! ... if Vardi wasn't a follower of the Mercanian gods then I bet she'd worship
⦁ BRIGHID! Enough said. Well, OBVIOUSLY that's where Gatanades himself came from if you weren't all so blinded by your stupid male... whatever makes men fight like they were .... ... ... Well, OBVIOUSLY I don't mean Cainneach, he only fights like I fight, and Sir Almeric, and ... well, EVERYONE decent! The whole retinue, though half of us are about as shy as Ori when it comes to admitting it. Bet Vardi won't be half bad when it comes to it, she looks like the sort that's a lot more nimble than folk take her for. And we all fight for what's right. Not to squabble over whether Gatanades had or hadn't a mother, for Gatanades'sakes! ...
I think if I whispered in his private ear, even Sir Almeric might find my thinking reasonable, though of course he has to pretend different because he's like a mask to the retinue. He's always there shielding us from the mote multipliers! I rather like ... well, I like EVERYONE in the retinue! Even Oriwhen he's gotten over being grumpy. And I can't wait to get better acquainted with Vardi, if I heard right as Cainneach and I were ,,, oh, yes, the Persons of Gatanades! Well, thats four, and since we're in Thuland now for good earnest wi' Brighid we can't possibly leave out Cainneach's god, ⦁ Morkaan. ... Laird Erek wasn't too fond of the Old Gods, so I'm sad to say I don't ken as much about my Cainneach's god as I'd like. The ones I learnt most of were the ones in whatever fireside tales were going back and forth in the dark the most when I was a lass. I never knew why they didn't talk of Morkaan more, but because of that I never even heard enough about Him to even know if perhaps He was one of the ones that made the Laird PARTICULARLY uncomfortable ...
(... or at least he said he wasn't comfortable wi' Them ... I'm beginning to wonder now if that wasn't mostly pretending. But he did a rare job of feigning it, if twas so.)
These folk with Mercanian blood DO seem to have a gift for acting, for bad AND for good. Ailsa was really being so KIND pretending to be my lady-in-waiting the whole time I thought she was laughing at me, and she did such a marvelous job of feigning it! I'm really sorry I embarrassed her so. I'll have to make it up to her when we become friends. And I DO think that tonight we both perhaps ... I'm not quite sure (Insight 18 ... -2 bc done from memory) ... well, I'd better leave THAT one well alone whether it's so or not! And if it is, I might just see it for myself sooner or later anyhow. So ...
⦁ ... of course we can't leave out Aengus! And not only the obvious, for me and Cainneach and ... FOUR more, perhaps? Who kens, that's for future to say. But the God Himself ... well,. I've saidalready the holy is that which celebrates Love, and I have Saint Julian of Norwich to back me if any of ... excuse me, sorry. Well, Aengus is the Thulsh GOD of Love! Quite simple really. And there you have it.
«﴾⸞≈∞⸎∞≈⸟﴿»
Oh, the seventh? Well, of COURSE we can't leave poor Primroseblossom out!!!!!!!
...or Tusk, really ,...
... or Salt ...
The seventh is the Green Man in all his thousand thousand faces. The Wild God, the God of the Beasts who cares for their dumb holiness that so often cannot protect itself.
I don't suppose I need to spell out which face of THAT god I prefer ... ;^D
Famh smiles warmly as she glides along, undulating only slightly thanks to Cainneach 's guiding arm. She begins to draw him towards the spot she spoke to her friendly guard, but remembers in time that he wasn't all that friendly. In fact, the feartie gannet had gone off like a little piggy boy in the fairy tale and kept all the uisgebeatha all to his piggy self after promising to bring some back for Ori and Vardi to share. She'd even seen him grabbing up other bottles and stuffing them under his gambeson as he went, so that made him not only a pig but a hog. But another part of her brain is whispering to her that perhaps she doesn't need any uisgebeatha right now. Despite the impetuosity of her announcement, she actually has no idea what a trothplighting in fact entails, beyond drinking to each other which she's already handled quite handily ;). And while she's beginning to suspect she'll soon prefer the shadows, she has no clue what's expected of them right now: whether they're traditionally supposed to slip out for some alone time at this point; or if the Duke who'd so publicly approved the step she'd taken would be offended should they try to leave. She also thinks she heard mention of several other courses to come.
All things considered, she is quite ready to have her attention diverted into other channels by Cainneach's call to Thatch. "Whit wa' that, love?," she woozes into his shoulder. He repeats himself, and the unusual remark wakes her up immediately. "How odd! Perchance he's found ane of the 'corbies' Sir Almeric was telling Fergus to watch for. I heard them whisperin' about some rumour of 'corbies on the docks'. And though I'd love naught better, I'm not sure whether we're supposed to actually leave the hall to whisper our sweet nothings. If it chances to be naught, we could still slip aside where Ori's talking to that lass and get acquainted just enough to be polite before finding a shadow of our own. But don't forget what ye were saying earlier for when we CAN be alone together. Many's the aching-toed evening I've thought a foot massage would be the height of heaven, and I'd imagine you've had a few of your own so I'd gladly learn how so I could thank ye with the same . . . "
Should Thatch share what he's seen in response to her questions, a much more clouded look comes across Famh's brow than has been there of late. She chews her nails, tapping her cheek with her forefinger and muttering, "A great cat ... A disappearing lady ... And bats? 'Flying mice', yes, but no cat I knew actually climbed up and ate ... " (Arcana roll in log: 17) Her voice trails off, and her arm wraps around Cainneach, and he can feel that a miracle has been achieved.
Famh is instantly sober, and ... at least for the moment ... very quiet.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
===
After speaking with the Lords, he sallied forth to hunt the Hart once more. Almeric considered Varni briefly, through his Capellar lens. A Smith, a rare talent, 'Jotnblud', this is just the kind of operator that interests him. Almeric's attention was immediately brought back to Ailsa, as soon as she drops her guard and giggles at his joke about Famh.
"I am really enjoying your charming, graceful, generous and witty company. I would like to spent some more time with you, when my duties permit." Almeric moves into Ailsa's personal space and and lowers his voice. "I am not in a position to pursue, no matter my feelings on the matter. I have no gold, land, title, or rank that is my own, nor even a horse. All I have is what I carry and what has been gifted to me." Almeric steps back, takes the ladies hand and kisses it graciously, and excuses himself, "I bid you good night, sweet lady"
Moving across to the Retinue, he approaches Ori and Vardi. "Vardi the Smith, called Jotnblud, I am Almeric Dayne, honoured to meet you." Almeric nods to Vardi in respect. "If I may speak with my Sergeant, I shall return him to you momentarily." Almeric speaks to Ori immediately, without waiting for Vardi to withdraw. "Sergeant, we may be marching tomorrow. Please have everyone up early for morning ablutions and breakfast, ready in full armour and weapons. Fergus and Tana will remain behind, on guard duty." Almeric eyes Vardi once more through his military lens, gauging her strength and ability. "This makes our patrol light, but it is necessary to divide our force. If another person could make up our strength?" Almeric nods to Ori, spins on his heel and moves to Famh and Cainneach.
Almeric was thinking about chastising Famh, when he saw her sober and quiet...
(Before the edit of Almeric's last post, I was just going to have Cainneach shrug at him and give him a look that said "Yeah dude, I know, what do you think I'm doing?" ;-)
"I dinnae know what's so puzzling about corbies on the docks, Famh. Those birds are anywhere and everywhere. Rarely up in rafters in castles, I'd think, unless they found a good reason to be. You know, they're quite smart. Dru and I always tried to have a couple trained to help us keep an eye on things in the forest, but they'd eventually lose interest and we'd have to find new ones to convince. And don't worry about leaving, leannan, we've got our marching orders from the fearless leader over there." He nods in acknowledgement to Almeric as the Capellar makes his way toward the exit. "I think it's time we head back to our rooms, sadly parting ways, but I can swear that my dreams will be filled with nothing but you tonight! Don't think too hard on whatever lurks above in this hall, Thatch has it well spotted I'm sure. Just get some sleep and be ready for whatever tomorrow brings us." Cainneach enjoys her warmth and is filled with love and pride as the pair make their way down the halls.
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Ori makes no move as Almeric approaches. It wasn't that Ori was being uncivil with the man, he just wasn't concerned with putting the extra effort in to not offend like he was trying, and probably failing, with Vardi. She was trying to make an effort to interact with Ori, Almeric had been on that boat with Ori all that time and should be well aware of Ori's current state. Ori merely grunts to Almeric at the mention of getting the other ready early the following day. After returning the nod as Almeric starts to move away, still staring out at the quieting dance floor. "Seems you have more titles then I, and famous enough that our fearless leader knows of ya. Seems I'm gonna have to ask for a rain check to my last rain check. The broken stool will have to wait it seems. Now I have to find someone else who wants to have their morning ruined and march without knowing a destination with the only promise of our lots company." It was obvious Almeric wanted him to try and convince Vardi to join but he wouldn't ask it of her. Poor thing just want to dance and Almericwanted to put her in potentially harms way. Surely she wouldn't want anything to do with him after meeting him in this dark state. But if she wanted to partake, he had to admit he was curious on what she could do out there, and that's a dance Ori is always up for.
Almeric: "Vardi the Smith, called Jotnblud, I am Almeric Dayne, honoured to meet you."
Vardi once again dips her head and curtseys, then answers "Likerwise, ser." with a grateful smile, as she is shy by nature, but also proud of her heritage, even if it sometimes makes people stare and whisper after her in the street. She unconsciously straightens her back in that same pride. Her head narrowly misses the rafter support as she does so.
Almeric: "If I may speak with my Sergeant, I shall return him to you momentarily."
The big lass nods, and steps back a half-pace from the two gentlemen, in a well-meant attempt to give at least the illusion of privacy to talk. Despite her good intentions, her ears cannot help overhearing their words.
Almeric: "...If another person could make up our strength?"
Vardi shows no signs of hearing this hidden plea but for a pensive expression.
Ori: "Seems you have more titles then I, and famous enough that our fearless leader knows of ya. Seems I'm gonna have to ask for a rain check to my last rain check. The broken stool will have to wait it seems. Now I have to find someone else who wants to have their morning ruined and march without knowing a destination with the only promise of our lots company."
Vardi holds up a large hand and replies in an apologetic tone "I cannay hide wha' I am from ye, Ori, only who I am, and tha' is being kin to ta giants of old. With tha' comes the burden of usin' tha strengths of tha blood we of Hrosskelda are gifted with in service to tha one who protects tha land and tha people of Thurland."
She smiles as she pats Ori on the shoulder and asks "Do ye think tha' fine mannered commander of yers would mind if I tagged along with yer mad lot of freelances for a bit? Could use a break from forgework awhile."
Well clearly the Smith picked up on recruitment call of Almeric. Well she clearly has interest in joining up, he wasn't going to stop her. As proper manored as she was, she sure had the presence as well, maybe she could take his role in no time! Well as wishful thinking as that was, time will test her skill and Ori was not one to throw one to the fire without some sort of a safety net, usually as disguised as he can manage the situation. "Well lets see here, it appears you have good taste in company, you survived the Famh trial, and, most importantly, you managed to not let the pillar fall. Alright, I'll pull some strings and work my magic, and if your still smitin' with the idea after any liquid courage has faded, well then we'll be seeing each other in the morn." He notices the lovebirds making their exit.
"Well duty calls, I will bid you farwell as I fear must protect the poor young man in over head on this one." Ori steps back from the post and looks up as if it may in fact fall. Giving it a nod he turns to Vadri and gives a farewell nod as well and turns to leave.
Seeing Thatch staring off into the rafters, Ori thinks it best they both return to their stables. "The morning comes sooner then you yet yet realize, best we make sure Cainneach and Famh make it back to someone's room in one piece. Sounds like to rest for the wary." He puts a hand on the youths shoulder and starts leading him towards the door, deciding not to ask about what Thatch was focused on.
Vardi-
Skuggavardi returns to your side as you leave the hall, you know you'll need to have a chat with Morag in the morn regarding a leave of absence but it won't be an issue...hopefully not an issue further up the chain but very unlikely. You know where the visitors are staying because everyone in the Keep knows where they are staying.
Almeric-
Quite what tomorow will bring you still don't know but you have questions and concerns for every member of the Family Carnasse....or at least you hopefully will have after a full debrief. The feast seemed to go well as could be expected and for folks not raised with much if any direct contact with the upper echelons your retinue acquitted themselves well.
Cainneach/Famh-
An escort back to your quarters where Tana is studiously ignoring anything happening between Famh and Cainneach at the door while she hastily finishes up her report for Almeric.
After saying your goodbyes ( feel free to do so) you retire for the night....possibly sleeping very soundly indeed.
Fergus, Thatch and Ori are in when Cainneach returns to his room...Salt is already there asleep on his back with his legs in the air...
Ori + Thatch-
You make your way back to the room passing Cainneach and Famh in the hallway, when you arrive back at the room Fergus is in the middle of making out a list and report for Sir Almeric.
" Enjoy yerselves?", he grins with a slight wink at Ori acknowledging the answer is likely 'no'.
" Oh..this was left for you.", Fergus held out a silver and black banded marotte with a pewter stylized depiction of Oris face upon it dressed in a bearskin hood.
Thatch, when he retired for the night, found a primrose sprig under his pillow.
You turn in for the night knowing you need be up in the morning.
Almeric will stay by Aldred's side, until the final and quiet end of the banquette, to escort him safely to his chambers. He is still concerned about the general safety in the keep, considering it to be far from secure. If alone with the Duke and Baron, Almeric will look away and play deaf, as is polite, hoping only to hear positive words regarding his attendance to Lady Ailsa during the evening.
Almeric is happier that everyone else has gone to their chambers, as some need their sleep! Happier still that they might have a Jotnblud in their ranks tomorrow, to face the days task.
"Aye, that's the thing. You'd not think anything of corbies, but they're troubling Sir Almeric. I heard him whisper to Fergus that he'd heard a rumour he wanted us all to investigate. Something to do with, 'corbies on the docks'. And ye ken well which of the Old Gods a corbie's the symbol and favored form of." She looks straight into his eyes; her own are suddenly very deep and solemn. "The Morrigu. Goddess of war ... "
"I'm fearing it might be a code or signal of some sort. But as for the rest ... " She stops suddenly and turns to face him, hands on her hips, her brows gathering together.
"Cainneach Strachan, I'm surprised at you. And not a little hurt." He sees the pout forming on her lips and braces for the coming storm; then he thinks to check her eye for tears and is mightily relieved to find a teasing twinkle there instead. "Are you telling me I spent all this time making sure I had a pretty earasaid for our engagement night; and Lady Ailsa was gracious enough to do up my hair so stunningly, and I've had sae little impact on you that you can actually imagine sleeping tonight?!" She artfully deepens the pout to obvious ... indeed, comedically exaggerated ... levels. "Have a care I don't start to find such indifference a bit of a slur on my beauty ... " Pretending to relent, she does smile at him then. The sun comes out after an eclipse. A thousand beacons are kindled in Beltayn, and ten thousand shine out from Katorheim across the waves to join their light to the joyous conflagration. "But if we have actual orders from our Capellar to retire to a more private setting ...well, we DID swear him obedience, now didn't we? I'll just help out a bit first, and then we can be on our way."
Before Cainneach has a chance to recover from the horrified immobility the words, 'I'll just help out a bit first ...' have frozen him into, Famh tilts her head back and begins to sing, as if the joy of their betrothal had swept her up into another of her fits of excess. But he can see the Famh in her eyes subtly change, and he knows she is working her faerie magic into the song in a way that is aimed wholly at the shadows above and shouldn't become obvious to anyone who's as grounded as they ought to be. And the clue lets his sharp eyes pick out the spot in the rafters where shadows are twisting and thickening into the image of an exceedingly plump and delectable bat. It lifts its wings and begins to flap as if beginning to get ready to fly. It is surely only a coincidence that it is situated at the spot where the cat above would have to reveal itself in full flank view to those below for at LEAST thirty seconds to have any hope of capturing it, and might well have to chase it for thirty more if it proves too nimble to be caught by the initial pounce(minor illusion).
To those not in the secret, however, Famh's voice simply soars out joyously as she throws her head back to get a better breath for singing,
With lyrics such as that, the immediate personal application of her song would be plainly obvious even if she hadn't illustrated the line about "taking hands" with appropriate gestures in taking the only possible appropriate hands in hers as she sings, or drawn Cainneach to her for an immediate illustration of the kiss as soon as she finishes singing. As she draws his head close, she pretends he's fending off an attempt by her to nibble his ear and whispers, "Sorry, but right off the coop I couldn't think of any other distraction that would serve so well while Thatch and any of the others who've noticed watch the cat. And everyone's used to me by now, or ought to be."
=========
(was there a post? LOL)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Ori leads Thatch into their chamber and turns to shut the door behind them but hesitates as he listens for the other 2 in the halls, but Famh's full volume singing wasn't anything one had to listen closely to hear. So Ori closed to door and turned to see Fergus, being studious as ever, Almeric had beet not think Ori was going to assume those duties if Fergus's absence. Ori gives an acknowledging grunt to the scribe joke, but stops dead in his tracks at the sight of what lies in Fergus's out stretch hand. Ori's mood had improved a bit on the walk back to their rooms, thinking about the teams new recruit and what she could bring to the teams dynamics, but he went cold now. He eyes got wide in horror and flared in rage, muscles tence. In a slightly elevated voice, talking through his teeth, Ori said "Who gave that to you? WHO I SAY?" With 2 steps Ori cleared half the room before Fergus could rise from his seat. Ori grabbed a handful of the man's collar, twisted and picked him up to his feet. Ori didn't pick him up off the ground but Fergus feet didn't have much work left to do. "ANSWER ME MAN! WHO GAVE THAT TO YOU I WANT NAMES!" He grabs the handle in his other hand. Ori let's him go as Fergus gives him the answer Ori knew, he didn't know. Stepping away from the suprised scribe, Ori grabs the marotte with his other hand and goes to break it in half, when suddenly a memory hits him. He can see it clear as day like he was reliving the event. Standing roughly where he is now, he was getting fitted. Fabric stretched acrossed him to gather his sizes, and there it was, a grimace. Staring at his back, Lady Ailsa grimaced at the sight of something on his back. Ori let's go of the marotte with one hand and places it in an overly familiar spot, right wear the mask is. "That Witch thinks she can mess with me, WITH ME!" As if the memory fast forward to the moment Lady Ailsa leaves and Cainneach said "I don't think the Lady used any magic, but I wouldn't have guessed such a thing would be possible without it!"
Ori's eyes dart back and forth between the 2 others in the room as the memories fade and he is seeing the present again. Half hearted apologizes and promises it was nothing and just the sea sickness messing with his head and judgment plus the booze he drank at the party. He promised them he would be back to his old ways after a good night of sleep and avoided answering and questions either tried to ask him.
Once Ori is able to smooth things other with the roommates before Cainneach returns, he starts thinking about the circumstances around the mask when he first received it as well, well this time he has a lead of who was behind it and he would have answers this time.
Thatch’s face, already flushed from drink, turns to embarrassment as Cainneach calls to him across the floor. He joins them and answers Famh “No corbies. I thought I saw something, but twas just a bat meeting its unfortunate end at the hands of a cat. Oh, and cats can climb up to the rafters just fine, we had an old tabby back in the Dayne household stables, she was quite the mouser, that one was.”
He excused himself awkwardly as the conversation turned to foot rubs and other matters he considered best not heard and he rejoined Ori as the feast came to a close and they headed back to the rooms. “Who was your new friend, Ori? She was hard to miss in that crowd.” Thatch was not surprised to see Fergus already back at the rooms, and at work scratching out figures. The man did not seem like one who embraced a good time. He was surprised at the sudden outburst of anger from Ori. Thatch reached out to aid Fergus and Ori calmed down quickly, but was still unsettled by the strange gift and refused to talk anymore about it that evening. Thatch was surprised to find a gift of his own as he went to bed, a sprig of primrose under his pillow. He took a small sniff of its fragrance and drifted off to sleep wondering who had placed it there.
As Famh raises her head, she realizes no one is left to watch the cat. She too has known mousers in barns, but they always confined themselves to mice. Bats were an exceedingly unusual addition to their diet. And while she knows nothing as yet of the full tragedy, she knows the first Duchess is dead; and she has been told by Cainneach of the uncanny Lady Margie who appears out of nowhere, terrifying chambermaids; and who he saw with such a wistful pang on her face when Famh announced their betrothal. And witches and ghosts taking feline form are almost as common in Thulish folktales as are the Morrigu's corvine transformations. Famh is NOT leaving this hall without learning all she can about Thatch 's cat!
"'An donas dubh ... ,' she begins to swear under her breath in Thulish before the bright side of the situation hits her. A free kiss from Cainneach, after all, is nothing to be sneezed at! She smiles happily and allows him to draw her from the hall. As slowly as possible, while she finishes her magical cat-herding to draw the creature out as much as possible. She seems to be gazing about her at the hall to imprint the happy memory on her mind; but she will actually watch for the cat and ... at the least ... imprint its exact markings in her mind.
===========================
Investigation 12
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Famh presses Cainneach's hand affectionately once the escort leads them back to their rooms. "I was only teasin'. I know we'll both have the happiest of dreams tonight about our future together; and you did say Sir Almeric was planning for an early start. I'll pack away this nice new earasaid to wear on our wedding day, and then I'll curl up in my old one and outer plaid." She kisses him goodnight and watches him fondly out of sight and then blurts out to Tana, "The maddest thing is, I meant every single word but I never planned to be so bold! I only tried to steal a kiss in the dance as he had; but I turned at just the wrong moment and it was like we were playing on the hautbois! I thought then, well, I've gone and practically announced it to the whole Great Hall anyway, so ... well, that's how it happened." As she speaks, she is changing into her old outfit. She seems to be having a lot of trouble with her belt, and winds up wrapping quite a long coil of rope around her waist. Then she turns to Tana again. "I forgot ... my plaid's stiff with sea spray yet. Would you happen to have a hood and cloak I could borrow?" If the other woman has none, she improvises one from the material she bought earlier. She is just wrapping it about her when she seems to remember something. "Excuse me. I ... left something behind." Opening the door and looking out to see there are no prying eyes about whose unwelcome attention she might have drawn with her histrionics in the Great Hall, she slips out into the shadowy corridor.
===========================
Stealth 13
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
The feline seems to have slipped Famhs net for the time being.....
Famh becomes one with the shadows and prowls the hallways of the keep.....
Indeed Fergus confirms a knock at the door and the marotte left behind but no one in the corridor, in truth he had assumed it was left for Ori.....certainly not for Thatch or himself....and likely not Cainneach.
Thatchs dreams were pleasant recalling brisk morning rides on Shuck and the smell of baked apples and oatmeal.......and a dark haired stranger who flitted at the edge of his vision and smelled faintly of primrose....
Baron Aldred bids Duke Carnasse a good night and, other than the servants, the three are the last to leave the hall.
As they walk back Baron Aldred shares that things seem to be going well and that Almerics retinue were the talk of the High Table.
At the point that Famh once again confounded him with her very particular brand of charm and, especially once she started crafting her illusion and singing, Cainneach realized that he was far too tired to put up any form of protest. Instead, after she finishes her performance and they make their way to her room, he pulls Famh as close to him as he can while she speaks to him at her chamber door. When she finishes, he whispers in her ear, "Perhaps you and I can wear these outfits for our wedding before these 'civilized' folks, but I think we'll need something different when I ask for your hand before your people. And I think it will be even more beautiful, although seeing you before me now it's hard to imagine that being possible." Cainneach kisses her gently on the neck and pulls back a bit to look at her. The look on his face is one of drowsy contentment as he summons another compliment for his betrothed. "Famh, your voice is as lovely as the lark's and your choice of song superior. I'm guessing the hour is nearly that at which those birds raise their voices. I wish this night could go on forever, but I can't dream of you, of us, if I don't get some sleep. And the gods only know what errand Almeric is going to drag us out on tomorrow morning, but it's certain he'll be insufferable if we're not in good working order." He leans in to kiss her one last time and whispers in her ear again, "Until the 'morn, milady. And thank you ..." With that, Cainneach turns and heads back to the room he shares with the other members of the retinue.
Upon entering, he finds the aftermath of the confrontation between Fergus and Ori, a palpable tension. Cainneach gives Thatch a questioning look, but thinks better of making a verbal inquiry to Ori or Fergus. Instead, the forester makes a show of a big yawn and stretch, quietly says, "What a night, eh fellas?", hoping for no response, then quickly changes back to his usual clothes, gives Salt a quick belly rub, then hops into bed. His dreams are typically nonsensical, liberally weaving together elements from their time on the Linden, the procession through the city, the dinner and all that entailed, and of Famh. She wasn't in distress, but was just out of reach throughout. Assuming the night passes uneventfully, Cainneach is slightly unsettled when he wakes. And has a bit of a headache.
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Vardi pays careful attention to Sergeant Ori's words, the change from dancing manners to silent alertness evident in her stance, her left arm already falling into shield position even if long practice keeps her other hand away from the feasting knife* on her belt.
Ori: "Well lets see here, it appears you have good taste in company, you survived the Famh trial, and, most importantly, you managed to not let the pillar fall. Alright, I'll pull some strings and work my magic, and if your still smitin' with the idea after any liquid courage has faded, well then we'll be seeing each other in the morn."
The big woman smiles and says "I need no help from Heidrun's milk to ask a worthy man to dance, nor to ask leave to go a viking, just a nudge in the right direction from a friend. If Master Gregor gives the nod to it as well, I'll se ye come dawn ser."
Ori: "Well duty calls, I will bid you farwell as I fear must protect the poor young man in over head on this one."
With a nod in return, and a quietly spoken "Good night and good luck to ye, Ori. Forgive me I leave yer rank for now, but I will remember to use it in the morning proper like." the Jotunblood lass returns to Morag's company to impart some news and ask for a favor.
Only after the Laird of the city departs the great hall does she and her not quite rascally drunk sister in smithing leave, briefly checking inside her lidded basket before she goes.
(OOC: I've realized just now, this episode provides a good illustration of how my thinking is crystallizing around the larger issue of Famh's role in the team in general. I' can talk more in the OOC thread if I remember, but basically I'm seeing Famh as our fearless strategist's switch hitter. She's EXCELLENT at the over-the-top distractions, albeit with the corresponding risk of outbreaks like this on her own dime until she gets more seasoning in the mature Famh controlling herself. But she ALSO lucked out on the DEX (as in, 18 / 18 dex/int split for which the dice goddesses and gods all be blessed) and is specifically skilled in Acrobatics thanks to climbing and writhing up mountainsides after sheep, so she's also not a bad surprise / backup stealth and second-story operator for times when Thatch et. al. are being watched or want a break)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
As Famh slips quietly down the corridors, dressed in her old and faded earasaid and with the borrowed hood arranged with carefully planned inattention to conceal her features as much as possible*, few who had seen her in the Great Hall mere minutes before would believe this was the same young woman who had so brazenly laid claim to her Cainneach before the Duke of Carnasse at his own high table when what he was actually engaged in was welcoming another king's Baron, and lived to tell the tale. And her destination would make them think twice too. Instead of heading directly back to the door she just emerged from, Famh is putting on a meek demeanor and following at a distance the least consequential freewoman servant of the kitchens she might see in any given section of hall who is going in the general direction she wishes to go. This is, to flank the Great Hall while appearing to be a newly prenticed and appropriately modest under-servant, until she sees if there is a way to slip aside unseen and climb up into the rafters of the whole place. From there she hopes to find the cat she saw from below in the Great Hall, if it is still aloft. She fears she may have revealed her presence to the other fey sorceress, if such the cat is, with her illusionary bat. But she would take bets the last thing the other would expect as a followup was Famhcrobat climbing up to investigate personally rather than relying on a spell. Besides, her Aos Sidhe hadn't TAUGHT her any spells for gathering information yet. She makes a mental note to have a little talk with them about that, but she also too eagerly inaticipates the spell she's been half-promised ... the one that would begin to teach her how to un-elk herself if it ever happened again ([spell[alter self[/spell]) ... to trouble about it more than that. Besides, that latter spell would have been decidedly useful in her current investigations had her initial breakthrough insight into the nature of her fey powers come sooner enough for her to have learnt it. She sets her jaw instead, and refocuses her concentration on easing through the most dimly lit places with the same casual care as she has so far; and once she sees a way aloft, on climbing as nimbly .. she fervently prays to all seven Persons of the One True Holiness who is Gatanades as she understands Them** ,,, as the cat she is in pursuit of (Acrobatics 25). And if anyone seems too curious but yet is far enough away to miss her subtle finger flicks and quietly murmured Thulish incantations vocalized in her throat with closed lips as quietly as she can, Famh will use her [spell]minor illusion[.spell] spell to create a distraction: beautiful singing echoing down the hall from behind the observer, as if some young page were trying his voice at a moment he thought there were no listeners ... perhaps practicing in secret in hopes of agreeably surprising his lady-love, master or mistress as the quality folks continue their far duller banquet without Famh there to amuse them ;). The rippling contrasoprano soars out in Thulish, then in Albish, on a heartstopping - for whatever reason (Performance 16) - paraphrase of a longer ballad, The Blue Bells of Thuland:
O where, oh where, has your highland laddie gone?
(O where, oh where, has your highland laddie gone?)
He's gone wi' streaming banners, where noble deeds are done;;
and its Oh!, in my heart, I wish him safe at home.
Oh what, oh what, if your highland lad should die?
(Oh what, oh what, if your highland lad should die?)
I'll mourn him by the burnside, and keen beneath the sky;
and the blue-bells of Thuland will toll as we pass by,"
The last notes with their unspoken implication of the lover's immediately succeeding death, most probably of a broken heart, hang in the air an heartbreakingly eternal instant. Then the listener wipes the tears from their eyes and ... Famh is gone.
At least, that's the plan. She fervently hopes she will have no need to put it to the trial.
===========================
*=====(Deception 8, to hide the design behind the disheveling, or her identity, should anyone observe her closely enough to warrant an opposed DC check. I lumped both rolls into one for convenience, but naturally if D_M prefers separate rolls I'll be glad to drop one in with a quote-edit.. ... And OF COURSE the lytics to the song 'Secret Agent Famh' were the mental soundtrack the whole time I was composing this LOL)
**=====(The Seven clear and obvious Persons of Gatanades, according to Famh and anyone else with a drop of common sense who isn't so trapped in their own boy-headed playground bully stupidity of beating each other up over "My God's better than your God!" when any idiot can see that if they all say to love eachother and they all say not to be mean to each other, why are you stupid heads fighing about anything else, as to see it; are as follows:
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1