Kyne glances across at the bed, atop which the satyr has abruptly appeared. There wasn't a flare of the arcane or a flash of light, he was simply there now, where last anybody had looked nobody had been.
"You're as good as your word, I'll give you that," Kyne replies nonchalantly, nodding in Seb'riel's direction to indicate his meaning.
"Seb, Mathilda, meet satyr," he adds, drily in introduction.
“ I am happy to see you too Lyreis” says the satyr looking at him with his green, round pupil and bright eyes.
“My name? A name... yes I guess I would need one... You can call me.... “ he looks around “...Dagur! Dagur sounds good don’t you think? Has a nice ring when you say it out loud. Dagur!! Sounds strong!!” He flexes his arms.
"Why did we agree to help him in the first place? " Lyreis mutters to Hurosk as he moves back away from the satyr, but there is no real conviction in his question. Standing against o e of the walls the battlemaster watches how the others react to the fey.
Flickers of memory flash through the kalashtar's disciplined mind.
before you can find the right direction and be able to stop him...
you have to find him darlings, of course. And stop him to do his black magics...
She struggles to control the anger that this creature effortlessly causes to bubble up within her.
Moltaris retorts, both to Mathilda and as a response to the satyr, "Sent... Assembled... Created... this one claims much but delivers little more than japes and offers to intoxicate ourselves at his expense. Are you still setting us up to hunt down your purveyor of black magics?"
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
The expresion of Dalgur turns stern, worried, even sad.
"Why are you that way darlings? " he says " I promised you wealth and good deeds. And good deeds you did and wealth you received. And there's more, much more for you to take if your altruism is in its low days lately... I don't know why you are so grumpy all the time. "he seems to think to himself " perhaps if you would drink with me your mood will improve! " he extends his wine towards the party " no? Ok... I see that you are hopeless, at least most of you " he says with a wink towards Kyne. " But, now, seriously. I see that some of you have departed, that's sad, but you've find more friends right? " he looks at Mathilda and for a brief moment his demeneaor changes. He looks at her with deep, sad eyes " Oh dear child. I am so sorry. "he raises his hand as if he was about to touch her face but he blinks and the bright on his eyes and the grin smile to his lips return.
"Yes, yes... we must stop the adversary before it's too late darlings. You all will regret it if you don't. " he looks to them, the sad gesture returned "so many pain... so many deaths... we must do something to stop it. Tell me I can count with you all. Tell me that you are commited to stop this evil, this madness"
Seb'riel quietly appraises the Satyr, having never met him before she has little to say on his honesty or intentions. She returns Kyne's smile and eases a little at his apparent lack of concern at the unexpected arrival. She recalled the group mentioning him when they first met but at the time she had been too preoccupied with her own predicament to ask more about him, a lapse in awareness that she mentally chastises herself for now. As Dagur's attention rests on Mathilda, Seb'riel relaxes, the profound sadness at the loss of innocence that was coming her way, a sense she had felt herself, set her at ease that his intentions were good. His final thoughts trouble her though and she frowns.
"I have seen many things coming to us, adventure, pain, danger, certainly death will follow our path, but you speak of many deaths as though a mass tragedy is coming. How is it that I have not seen this come to pass? What is it that you have seen?"
"You've helped us put a few more coin in our pockets and I do appreciate it."Hurosk gives a salute with his glass to the satyr. "But you're asking us to take care of some threat that you have not shed any light on. Why don't you share a little more so we can make a better decision." The half-orc waits, skeptically, for the fey's answer.
"You don't understand darling " says Dalgur to Hurosk " The less you know about him, the better... unless you want to help and commit to it. Then there is no turn back and I will tell you all that I can. If you don't... then I will wish you good luck and hope that the Court has someone more willing to join us..."
There is a sudden loud, sucking gasp of an intake of breath from across the room as Seb'riel's eyes roll upwards. Her arms automatically fly out to the side to find balance her nails clawing into somebody's shoulder but it is clear her mind is unaware of what her body is doing. Her eyes roll back down but their focus is piercing the veil and do not land anywhere in this world, let alone the room. Her grip tightens and a small moan escapes her lips. Her voice is high pitched and her speech slow and childlike again.
"He is terrible. The mists intertwine, tolling in green and grey. But I see him now. He is the one, surrounded by death and the swirling mists. His face is hidden but we must go to him. The way is set. There is pain and suffering in the jungle city. A city of death within the mists." She let's out a little cry, almost a hiccup. "Clank, clank. And the screams. All the while the mists swirl green and grey. He must be stopped."
Her nails release the poor shoulder they latched into but her knuckles tighten as she doubles over to catch her breath. As she lifts her head once more, there is a slight smirk on her face, her eyes are refocused and her voice is faster again though still a little shrill.
"Tricksy little man" She chuckles. "You mentioned the mystery so I tried to find it. Now I saw and so I must go to find him. The fates and the undying have demanded it of me."
"We said he was tricksy"Lyreis mutters under his breath. "Did you see any eyes? Golden ones with slits?"he asks the seer, keeping a close eye on the Satyr as he speaks "My friends seem determined to work at your behest, I am not certain you are playing us honestly but I will not break from them so the blades I carry will fight in your cause. I ask you honour this commitment with truths that will aid us in our quest."
"As I said before " replies the satyr to Hurosk " There will be gold involved yes. You can keep whatever you find, gems, jewels, coins, magic... we don't care but I cannot tell you how much that would be. I almost made you rich just in two nights, didn't I darling? "
He shakes Kyne's forearm and the elf feels the shake firm. Dagul nods to Seb'riel and offers his hand both to her and to Lyreis.
"Do not worry we will keep our word. There are laws that even us don't dare to defy. "
Seb'riel absent mindedly takes the offered hand, still not thinking clearly as she recovers. She offers Lyreis a weak smile. "I am sorry Lyreis, I did not. Later I will sit with you and look for it, or else guide you to see more. If we cannot find the answers that way then we must journey somewhere larger with a library of note. I am certain I have seen reference to similar things in the past, I recall something about a prophesy."
As more and more of them shake hands with the satyr, Mathilda feels pressured into doing the same. She feels uneasy about it since he did not answer her question, but she does not have the courage to stand her ground. When Seb has her vision, she stares at her wide-eyed, having never witnessed something like this first hand. Luckily, Seb'riel seems alright to her and as nobody else acts alarmed, Mathilda saves her questions for later and tries to ignore the growing knot in her stomach.
After shaking the satyr's hand, she tries again, trying to sound more sure of herself. "Why did you say you feel sorry for me? You haven't answered my question?" When the satyr's unusual eyes move towards her, however, she loses courage and the second part of her sentence sounds ends up rather like a question than a demand.