Elias stands there, eyes narrowed, lost in thought as he reaches into the vast catalog of arcane knowledge he's carried most of his life. The names come to him—Doppelganger, Changeling—whispers in old texts, half-remembered stories, cautionary tales told around campfires or buried in obscure footnotes of musty tomes.
He knows they can change shape, that much is certain. But beyond that...
He frowns.
"Doppelgangers... Changelings..." he murmurs aloud, as if testing the words for hidden truths. "They can become anyone. Blend into society. Take the place of others. But I don’t recall any mention of them seducing mortals for bloodlines. Or... at least, not in any text I trusted."
He shakes his head slowly, frustrated.
"They’re stories more than facts. Murmurs and rumors from corners of scholarship no one bothers to clean."
He exhales, hands resting on his hips as he looks to the others. The connection is there, just out of reach—but he knows better than to force an answer that isn't ready to be known.
"I know these creatures exist—or at least, they’re believed to. But whether they can pass something on to their offspring... I don’t know."
Taryssa frowns, "Weren't there stories about certain 'old gods' that would become animals or people to bring chaos to 'mere mortals'?" NOT that I am saying these 'Lords' are gods or godlings by any stretch of the imagination.
Elias, if nothing else, might we go speak to Thetis once again and have her entice Mavil to speak with us without delving deeper into the flooded underground levels? Either Mavil will agree to a 'parlez' and we learn something or he refuses and we are no worse off than we are now."
Elias turns toward Tarysaa, his brow lifting slightly in intrigue as she speaks. Her point—unexpectedly mythic in its angle—sparks something in him.
"Yes," he says, slowly, "there are indeed tales… of old gods or primeval spirits taking mortal forms—sometimes animals, sometimes idealized lovers—to sow chaos, or to spawn lines of cursed or blessed blood." He pauses, then adds with a faint smirk, "Tyr’s justice knows how many ancient bloodlines have been ‘explained’ by myths of divine seduction."
But his tone grows thoughtful again as he considers the implications.
"The Lords from Below aren’t gods," he agrees, "but that doesn’t mean they aren’t playing god—or trying to create something in their image. A bloodline passed in secret, a spark that awakens at maturity... it fits with that old pattern of meddling powers reshaping mortals for their own ends."
Then, as Tarysaa brings the idea full circle with Mival and Thetis, Elias’s gaze sharpens with sudden focus.
"You’re right." He straightens slightly, the energy returning to his posture. "We don’t need to plunge into darkness just to chase shadows. If Thetis is still bound to the Lords, she may be able to reach Mival—Blossom—and arrange a meeting."
He nods firmly, voice gaining weight. "And if Mival—whatever form he’s in—still holds some shred of the boy he was, then perhaps he’ll come to speak. It’s a risk, yes… but a controlled one."
Then, with a note of cautious optimism:
"It’s the best chance we’ve had yet to confront him directly without stepping blindly into their lair."
Elias turns toward the village road, already anticipating the path back to the ruins.
"Let’s return to Thetis. And let’s hope, this time, she can give us more than warnings and wistful sighs."
As Elias turns down the road, already thinking through how best to approach Thetis without driving her deeper into fear or obedience, he slows, glancing sidelong at the others.
"One more thing..." he says, his tone lightening just slightly—though there’s still calculation behind his eyes.
"If we’re going to ask Thetis to take a risk on our behalf—to help us contact Mival, maybe even disobey her masters—we may need to offer her more than strategy."
He pauses, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"She asked for a flower before. A gift. A gesture."
He straightens, lifting his chin in mock-nobility.
"I propose we bring her one. Not for deception… but as a sign that we see her, that we respect her. She may be bound, but she’s still her own person—and a little kindness might earn us more than pressure ever could."
His voice softens again.
"Besides, when was the last time someone gave her something just because she asked?"
Then, dryly, “Also, I suspect she enjoys making me squirm a little.”
He glances toward Tarysaa and Ardana, eyebrows lifted in quiet amusement. "Anyone know where in this charming village we might still find something in bloom?"
((Elias would gather some flowers along the way back to the ruins))
Tarysaa smiles faintly as Elias makes his proposal of coming actions. "I did not bring my gardening kit but I think we can pot a few plants and possibly an armful of cut flowers collected on the way back to the ruins."
Closing her eyes for a moment she asks to no one in particular, "Do you think it would aid us at all to have several bowls filled with oil and wicks; making floating 'boat candles' to help illuminate that main flooded room we entered into? " She laughs softly. "I am just thinking of a means which might save on my stock of candles."
Elias chuckles softly, clearly appreciating Tarysaa’s practicality woven into her creativity.
“Oil and wicks in floating bowls… now that’s a Harpell solution if I’ve ever heard one,” he says with a warm grin. “Resourceful, a little theatrical, and very likely to work.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “I think it’s a fine idea. If we’re going to be negotiating in a place full of dark water and hidden corners, a bit of soft, dispersed light could give us the edge. Or at least set the right tone.”
Then he nods more seriously.
“Let’s do both—gather what flowers we can on the way back to the ruins, and if we can find a merchant with a few clay bowls and a bit of lamp oil, we’ll make your floating lights happen.”
His gaze turns toward the road, the ruins distant but now—somehow—more approachable.
“Kindness for the one trapped… light for the place where truth hides. Seems we’re not just going back smarter—we’re going back better.”
He flashes a glance at Ardana, his voice dry but fond. “And if we’re lucky, Thetis will only splash me once this time.”
In the small hamlet the only general store is soon found, where an old half-orc female sells each pair of clay bowls + bit of lamp oil at the same price as an Oil flask (1Sp). She can have up to 20 in stock. The party can freely choose how many to buy and who to assign them to, while the old she-half-orc watches with impassive eyes and a very un-half-orc phlegm... but then again you have rarely seen old half-orcs, so perhaps she is an exception in many respects.
[[ OOC: So, if I understand correctly, after doing this, you pick the flowers for Tethis and return to her? Is this the next event I should narrate? ]]
The journey to the ruins is as uneventful as the previous one, and our heroes soon find themselves back in the presence of the girl in the skimpy shell costume.
"How beautiful!" she exclaims, seeing the flowers, and rushes to hug them, spraying (unintentionally?) the entire party in her excited jubilation.
Tethis looks at them, turns them over, sniffs them thoroughly, then mixes them with her own shells, giving a more floral tone to her outfit: "They're beautiful! Thank you for bringing them! I knew you were good people! So I'll let you in on a secret..." she takes on a conspiratorial tone "One of the Lords from Below came by recently and asked about you! I think they know you're sticking your nose in their lair... so tread carefully!"
During the journey to the ruins, Koran will gather flowers, with the longest stems he can manage to find, and weave them into a circle. He has to guess at the size of her head, but he tries to complete the work before they reach the ruins.
Offering the ring along to Tethis with the flowers the others have at hand.
"And a crown to boot, no less!" Tethis exclaims in delight at receiving Koran's gift. "Look at me!" She puts it on, beaming "I am the queen of the waters of the underworld!"
She impulsively lunges at the elf to kiss him...
[[ OOC: ...And unless Koran tries to stop her or prevent it in some way, I will assume that this will happen... ]]
Elias tries to sidestep the incoming spray as Thetis launches herself toward the bouquet, but it’s a futile effort. A fine mist of cold, damp water hits him squarely in the chest and trickles down the collar of his coat. He inhales slowly, eyes closing for just a heartbeat before opening again with a resigned, almost fond expression.
“We should have brought towels as well,” he mutters under his breath, brushing droplets off his sleeves as Thetis enthusiastically adorns herself with her new floral accessories.
He watches her with a mixture of amusement and guarded interest, noting the way her delight is genuine… and yet her warning is anything but innocent.
As she leans in and lowers her voice, Elias subtly mirrors her conspiratorial tone, playing into the rhythm of her energy while keeping his mind sharp.
“That’s very kind of you to share, Thetis,” he says, meeting her gaze. “It’s not every day someone receives both flowers and a warning from the same hand.”
He kneels slightly to be at eye level, careful not to speak too loudly.
“Do you know which of the Lords asked about us? Or what they said, exactly?” He tilts his head. “We’d rather not surprise them unless we have to. But if one of them is expecting us… maybe they’re open to a conversation instead of a confrontation.”
Then, just a little softer:
“Would Mival—Blossom—speak with us? Without us going any deeper? If we promised to talk and not fight… would he listen?”
He doesn’t press her. He just watches her eyes, the flowers in her hair gently shifting with her breath, and waits.
After kissing Koran on the cheek as a thank you, the 'queen of the waters of the underworld' replies to Elias: "It was Heltor who asked about you. He asked if I had seen such-and-such guys - and he gave an accurate description of you all. I told him that you had come to explore, but that you had also left... And Heltor reminded me to keep in mind what happens to me if I let intruders pass... I'll tell you - I've got the impression" now she once again takes on the conspiratorial air of someone who is revealing an important secret "that Heltor does not want to talk to you..."
"But if you want I can ask Blossom privately if she wants to talk to you" Tethis looks determined. "I know he's in the den... And sometimes he goes around alone... I can easily manage to talk to him alone. But you have to tell me exactly what I have to tell him" now the girl in the skimpy dress of shells (and flowers) seems much more mature than she looks, while she takes on a meditative and worried look. "You'll have to be convincing if you want him to actually come and talk to you alone... Heltor will surely have warned the other Lords from Below - so Blossom too - about you. You'll have to give him a good reason to come and meet you alone... instead of telling the other Lords from Below - and maybe setting you up!"
Elias listens with rapt attention as Thetis names Heltor, and describes the encounter in her whimsical-yet-serious fashion. He watches the way her expression changes—how the playful glimmer gives way to something older, deeper, more solemn. In that moment, despite the flowers and shells and splashes, Elias no longer sees a mischievous nymph. He sees a prisoner calculating the risks of betrayal.
When she offers to speak with Blossom, Elias nods slowly, carefully choosing his words.
“Tell him… his mother sent us.” His voice is clear now, certain. “Tell him Kara is still waiting for him. That she speaks of him with a love deeper than any tale, and that she doesn’t care what he’s become—only that he is alive, and that he knows he is loved.”
He pauses, letting the words settle in the stillness of the damp corridor, then adds:
“Tell him we don’t come to punish or capture. We come to understand. If there’s anything left of Mival, even a flicker, he deserves the chance to hear her words… and choose for himself.”
Then Elias turns, scanning the faces of his companions. He’s spoken from the heart, but he knows they might feel differently—especially those more accustomed to blades than pleas.
He looks first to Ardana, then Tarysaa, and finally to Koran and Woodrow, reading each of them in turn.
“Unless you disagree,” he says softly, “this is the truth I believe will reach him.”
Koran does not avoid the impulsive cheek kiss. "You are welcome."
As Elias provides his message, Koran starts by nodding, but it slowly turns to a frown. As he looks for approval, Koran tries to speak clearly. "It became too much, I think. You spoke for too long. More, 'your mother sent us to learn and understand.' Shorter. Harder to interrupt and ignore the full weight. Just an opinion."
"Thank you for your consideration!" Tethis comments on Tarysaa's last sentence, hitting her with a generous wave of water that seems to rise up autonomously from the flooded floor, like a small Tsunami. "I only get distracted when things are boring! And here my freedom is at stake - which as far as I'm concerned is not boring at all! You just worry about thinking of the best thing to say! And I will say it!"
Elias can’t help but chuckle softly—half at Koran’s blunt but fair critique, and half at Tarysaa’s absolutely deserved dousing. He raises a hand as if in surrender when Thetis’s wave rolls in, managing only to sidestep a mild splash himself, though his boots are thoroughly doomed by now.
“Right. Brevity.” He clears his throat, smoothing his coat with what dignity he can muster in a damp corridor. He nods to Koran, accepting the correction without pride.
Then, to Thetis, he speaks again—slower, simpler, but still heartfelt:
“Tell him: his mother sent us. She loves him. She doesn’t care what he’s become—only that he knows she’s still waiting. We want to understand. Not fight.”
He looks to her carefully, ensuring her eyes meet his.
“If that doesn’t reach him… nothing will.”
Then he turns to Tarysaa, growing more serious.
“Yes. Heltor concerns me. The fact that he sought Thetis out shows he’s aware we’ve found the seams in their control. He doesn’t want parley. That makes him dangerous.”
He pauses, then adds darkly:
“He may be the one pulling the strings. If Thetis is to go alone, and Mival doesn’t respond—or something happens to her—we may need to move fast.”
Then he kneels briefly in front of Thetis, his tone softening once more.
“If Blossom agrees to speak, pick a place where we can be safe. Where you feel safe. We trust you with this, Thetis.”
Then, as he rises, his expression hardens with quiet resolve.
“And if they hurt you for it… then the Lords from Below will find out what happens when you underestimate those who walk above.”
Tethis winks at Elias: "You can be very tender, you know, for a human? It's comforting to know that if someone wanted to hurt me, you would come and save me!"
"I can't leave this room... except to go into the den - where you must absolutely not follow me!" the queen of the waters of the underworld explains "So I will accompany Blossom only up to here... But if you want more privacy and if Blossom agrees, go back upstairs! It should be easier to be sure that no one is spying on you in the open! You should be safe enough."
"I'm going to take your message to him!" the girl in a skimpy costume of shells and flowers heads towards the narrowest passage with enthusiasm "Together, we can do this!"
With a last look at the party, the creature waves her little hand in a farewell greeting, then goes.
Minutes pass. Not enough to raise alarm... although enough to raise the tension a little. Then, there are splashes of footsteps returning. And here Tethis appears again... along with a young man who, indeed, matches Kara's description of Mival!
The newcomer looks at the party with a mixture of anxiety and distrust, of hope and pain: "So... She really did it? My mother Kara went so far as to convince adventurers to look for me? And these adventurers are... you?"
"Oh! Woodrow!? You too!?" the young man's face lights up even more with wonder "I know, you always told me about your heroic past! But... well, I thought that was just it - a past. Instead, for me, you're back... 'in action'? I..." he seems saddened "I'm sorry you risked your life for me. I didn't want anyone to risk or suffer. I just wanted to disappear and be forgotten".
Elias stands there, eyes narrowed, lost in thought as he reaches into the vast catalog of arcane knowledge he's carried most of his life. The names come to him—Doppelganger, Changeling—whispers in old texts, half-remembered stories, cautionary tales told around campfires or buried in obscure footnotes of musty tomes.
He knows they can change shape, that much is certain. But beyond that...
He frowns.
"Doppelgangers... Changelings..." he murmurs aloud, as if testing the words for hidden truths. "They can become anyone. Blend into society. Take the place of others. But I don’t recall any mention of them seducing mortals for bloodlines. Or... at least, not in any text I trusted."
He shakes his head slowly, frustrated.
"They’re stories more than facts. Murmurs and rumors from corners of scholarship no one bothers to clean."
He exhales, hands resting on his hips as he looks to the others. The connection is there, just out of reach—but he knows better than to force an answer that isn't ready to be known.
"I know these creatures exist—or at least, they’re believed to. But whether they can pass something on to their offspring... I don’t know."
Taryssa frowns, "Weren't there stories about certain 'old gods' that would become animals or people to bring chaos to 'mere mortals'?" NOT that I am saying these 'Lords' are gods or godlings by any stretch of the imagination.
Elias, if nothing else, might we go speak to Thetis once again and have her entice Mavil to speak with us without delving deeper into the flooded underground levels? Either Mavil will agree to a 'parlez' and we learn something or he refuses and we are no worse off than we are now."
Elias turns toward Tarysaa, his brow lifting slightly in intrigue as she speaks. Her point—unexpectedly mythic in its angle—sparks something in him.
"Yes," he says, slowly, "there are indeed tales… of old gods or primeval spirits taking mortal forms—sometimes animals, sometimes idealized lovers—to sow chaos, or to spawn lines of cursed or blessed blood." He pauses, then adds with a faint smirk, "Tyr’s justice knows how many ancient bloodlines have been ‘explained’ by myths of divine seduction."
But his tone grows thoughtful again as he considers the implications.
"The Lords from Below aren’t gods," he agrees, "but that doesn’t mean they aren’t playing god—or trying to create something in their image. A bloodline passed in secret, a spark that awakens at maturity... it fits with that old pattern of meddling powers reshaping mortals for their own ends."
Then, as Tarysaa brings the idea full circle with Mival and Thetis, Elias’s gaze sharpens with sudden focus.
"You’re right."
He straightens slightly, the energy returning to his posture. "We don’t need to plunge into darkness just to chase shadows. If Thetis is still bound to the Lords, she may be able to reach Mival—Blossom—and arrange a meeting."
He nods firmly, voice gaining weight.
"And if Mival—whatever form he’s in—still holds some shred of the boy he was, then perhaps he’ll come to speak. It’s a risk, yes… but a controlled one."
Then, with a note of cautious optimism:
"It’s the best chance we’ve had yet to confront him directly without stepping blindly into their lair."
Elias turns toward the village road, already anticipating the path back to the ruins.
"Let’s return to Thetis. And let’s hope, this time, she can give us more than warnings and wistful sighs."
As Elias turns down the road, already thinking through how best to approach Thetis without driving her deeper into fear or obedience, he slows, glancing sidelong at the others.
"One more thing..." he says, his tone lightening just slightly—though there’s still calculation behind his eyes.
"If we’re going to ask Thetis to take a risk on our behalf—to help us contact Mival, maybe even disobey her masters—we may need to offer her more than strategy."
He pauses, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"She asked for a flower before. A gift. A gesture."
He straightens, lifting his chin in mock-nobility.
"I propose we bring her one. Not for deception… but as a sign that we see her, that we respect her. She may be bound, but she’s still her own person—and a little kindness might earn us more than pressure ever could."
His voice softens again.
"Besides, when was the last time someone gave her something just because she asked?"
Then, dryly, “Also, I suspect she enjoys making me squirm a little.”
He glances toward Tarysaa and Ardana, eyebrows lifted in quiet amusement. "Anyone know where in this charming village we might still find something in bloom?"
((Elias would gather some flowers along the way back to the ruins))
Oh, there is no one selling flowers in the hamlet... because it is incredibly easy to find flowers in the surtounding fields!
Violets, primroses or hawtorns, for example are quite easy to find and to get.
Tarysaa smiles faintly as Elias makes his proposal of coming actions. "I did not bring my gardening kit but I think we can pot a few plants and possibly an armful of cut flowers collected on the way back to the ruins."
Closing her eyes for a moment she asks to no one in particular, "Do you think it would aid us at all to have several bowls filled with oil and wicks; making floating 'boat candles' to help illuminate that main flooded room we entered into? " She laughs softly. "I am just thinking of a means which might save on my stock of candles."
Elias chuckles softly, clearly appreciating Tarysaa’s practicality woven into her creativity.
“Oil and wicks in floating bowls… now that’s a Harpell solution if I’ve ever heard one,” he says with a warm grin. “Resourceful, a little theatrical, and very likely to work.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “I think it’s a fine idea. If we’re going to be negotiating in a place full of dark water and hidden corners, a bit of soft, dispersed light could give us the edge. Or at least set the right tone.”
Then he nods more seriously.
“Let’s do both—gather what flowers we can on the way back to the ruins, and if we can find a merchant with a few clay bowls and a bit of lamp oil, we’ll make your floating lights happen.”
His gaze turns toward the road, the ruins distant but now—somehow—more approachable.
“Kindness for the one trapped… light for the place where truth hides. Seems we’re not just going back smarter—we’re going back better.”
He flashes a glance at Ardana, his voice dry but fond. “And if we’re lucky, Thetis will only splash me once this time.”
In the small hamlet the only general store is soon found, where an old half-orc female sells each pair of clay bowls + bit of lamp oil at the same price as an Oil flask (1Sp). She can have up to 20 in stock. The party can freely choose how many to buy and who to assign them to, while the old she-half-orc watches with impassive eyes and a very un-half-orc phlegm... but then again you have rarely seen old half-orcs, so perhaps she is an exception in many respects.
[[ OOC: So, if I understand correctly, after doing this, you pick the flowers for Tethis and return to her? Is this the next event I should narrate? ]]
Tarysaa will purchase the clay bowls/wicks/oil. She requests 7 sets and will pay the half-orc a full gold piece for her troubles.
Once it is all packed up, it appears we are collecting flowers as we head back to the ruins.
(( unless anyone else has business to tend to first? ))
The journey to the ruins is as uneventful as the previous one, and our heroes soon find themselves back in the presence of the girl in the skimpy shell costume.
"How beautiful!" she exclaims, seeing the flowers, and rushes to hug them, spraying (unintentionally?) the entire party in her excited jubilation.
Tethis looks at them, turns them over, sniffs them thoroughly, then mixes them with her own shells, giving a more floral tone to her outfit: "They're beautiful! Thank you for bringing them! I knew you were good people! So I'll let you in on a secret..." she takes on a conspiratorial tone "One of the Lords from Below came by recently and asked about you! I think they know you're sticking your nose in their lair... so tread carefully!"
During the journey to the ruins, Koran will gather flowers, with the longest stems he can manage to find, and weave them into a circle. He has to guess at the size of her head, but he tries to complete the work before they reach the ruins.
Offering the ring along to Tethis with the flowers the others have at hand.
"And a crown to boot, no less!" Tethis exclaims in delight at receiving Koran's gift. "Look at me!" She puts it on, beaming "I am the queen of the waters of the underworld!"
She impulsively lunges at the elf to kiss him...
[[ OOC: ...And unless Koran tries to stop her or prevent it in some way, I will assume that this will happen... ]]
Elias tries to sidestep the incoming spray as Thetis launches herself toward the bouquet, but it’s a futile effort. A fine mist of cold, damp water hits him squarely in the chest and trickles down the collar of his coat. He inhales slowly, eyes closing for just a heartbeat before opening again with a resigned, almost fond expression.
“We should have brought towels as well,” he mutters under his breath, brushing droplets off his sleeves as Thetis enthusiastically adorns herself with her new floral accessories.
He watches her with a mixture of amusement and guarded interest, noting the way her delight is genuine… and yet her warning is anything but innocent.
As she leans in and lowers her voice, Elias subtly mirrors her conspiratorial tone, playing into the rhythm of her energy while keeping his mind sharp.
“That’s very kind of you to share, Thetis,” he says, meeting her gaze. “It’s not every day someone receives both flowers and a warning from the same hand.”
He kneels slightly to be at eye level, careful not to speak too loudly.
“Do you know which of the Lords asked about us? Or what they said, exactly?” He tilts his head. “We’d rather not surprise them unless we have to. But if one of them is expecting us… maybe they’re open to a conversation instead of a confrontation.”
Then, just a little softer:
“Would Mival—Blossom—speak with us? Without us going any deeper? If we promised to talk and not fight… would he listen?”
He doesn’t press her. He just watches her eyes, the flowers in her hair gently shifting with her breath, and waits.
After kissing Koran on the cheek as a thank you, the 'queen of the waters of the underworld' replies to Elias: "It was Heltor who asked about you. He asked if I had seen such-and-such guys - and he gave an accurate description of you all. I told him that you had come to explore, but that you had also left... And Heltor reminded me to keep in mind what happens to me if I let intruders pass... I'll tell you - I've got the impression" now she once again takes on the conspiratorial air of someone who is revealing an important secret "that Heltor does not want to talk to you..."
"But if you want I can ask Blossom privately if she wants to talk to you" Tethis looks determined. "I know he's in the den... And sometimes he goes around alone... I can easily manage to talk to him alone. But you have to tell me exactly what I have to tell him" now the girl in the skimpy dress of shells (and flowers) seems much more mature than she looks, while she takes on a meditative and worried look. "You'll have to be convincing if you want him to actually come and talk to you alone... Heltor will surely have warned the other Lords from Below - so Blossom too - about you. You'll have to give him a good reason to come and meet you alone... instead of telling the other Lords from Below - and maybe setting you up!"
Elias listens with rapt attention as Thetis names Heltor, and describes the encounter in her whimsical-yet-serious fashion. He watches the way her expression changes—how the playful glimmer gives way to something older, deeper, more solemn. In that moment, despite the flowers and shells and splashes, Elias no longer sees a mischievous nymph. He sees a prisoner calculating the risks of betrayal.
When she offers to speak with Blossom, Elias nods slowly, carefully choosing his words.
“Tell him… his mother sent us.”
His voice is clear now, certain. “Tell him Kara is still waiting for him. That she speaks of him with a love deeper than any tale, and that she doesn’t care what he’s become—only that he is alive, and that he knows he is loved.”
He pauses, letting the words settle in the stillness of the damp corridor, then adds:
“Tell him we don’t come to punish or capture. We come to understand. If there’s anything left of Mival, even a flicker, he deserves the chance to hear her words… and choose for himself.”
Then Elias turns, scanning the faces of his companions. He’s spoken from the heart, but he knows they might feel differently—especially those more accustomed to blades than pleas.
He looks first to Ardana, then Tarysaa, and finally to Koran and Woodrow, reading each of them in turn.
“Unless you disagree,” he says softly, “this is the truth I believe will reach him.”
Tarysaa nods as she releases the last of her pot lamps to float about the room.
"It is the simple truth. A mother and child bond. She wishes to know he is safe and, as a mother, wishes to know why he left her alone."
Koran does not avoid the impulsive cheek kiss. "You are welcome."
As Elias provides his message, Koran starts by nodding, but it slowly turns to a frown. As he looks for approval, Koran tries to speak clearly. "It became too much, I think. You spoke for too long. More, 'your mother sent us to learn and understand.' Shorter. Harder to interrupt and ignore the full weight. Just an opinion."
Tarysaa nods. "Koran may be correct. Thetis can only process brief messages or she gets distracted."
She turns to Elias, "Should we be concerned about this Heltor creature?"
"Thank you for your consideration!" Tethis comments on Tarysaa's last sentence, hitting her with a generous wave of water that seems to rise up autonomously from the flooded floor, like a small Tsunami. "I only get distracted when things are boring! And here my freedom is at stake - which as far as I'm concerned is not boring at all! You just worry about thinking of the best thing to say! And I will say it!"
Elias can’t help but chuckle softly—half at Koran’s blunt but fair critique, and half at Tarysaa’s absolutely deserved dousing. He raises a hand as if in surrender when Thetis’s wave rolls in, managing only to sidestep a mild splash himself, though his boots are thoroughly doomed by now.
“Right. Brevity.” He clears his throat, smoothing his coat with what dignity he can muster in a damp corridor. He nods to Koran, accepting the correction without pride.
Then, to Thetis, he speaks again—slower, simpler, but still heartfelt:
“Tell him: his mother sent us. She loves him. She doesn’t care what he’s become—only that he knows she’s still waiting. We want to understand. Not fight.”
He looks to her carefully, ensuring her eyes meet his.
“If that doesn’t reach him… nothing will.”
Then he turns to Tarysaa, growing more serious.
“Yes. Heltor concerns me. The fact that he sought Thetis out shows he’s aware we’ve found the seams in their control. He doesn’t want parley. That makes him dangerous.”
He pauses, then adds darkly:
“He may be the one pulling the strings. If Thetis is to go alone, and Mival doesn’t respond—or something happens to her—we may need to move fast.”
Then he kneels briefly in front of Thetis, his tone softening once more.
“If Blossom agrees to speak, pick a place where we can be safe. Where you feel safe. We trust you with this, Thetis.”
Then, as he rises, his expression hardens with quiet resolve.
“And if they hurt you for it… then the Lords from Below will find out what happens when you underestimate those who walk above.”
Tethis winks at Elias: "You can be very tender, you know, for a human? It's comforting to know that if someone wanted to hurt me, you would come and save me!"
"I can't leave this room... except to go into the den - where you must absolutely not follow me!" the queen of the waters of the underworld explains "So I will accompany Blossom only up to here... But if you want more privacy and if Blossom agrees, go back upstairs! It should be easier to be sure that no one is spying on you in the open! You should be safe enough."
"I'm going to take your message to him!" the girl in a skimpy costume of shells and flowers heads towards the narrowest passage with enthusiasm "Together, we can do this!"
With a last look at the party, the creature waves her little hand in a farewell greeting, then goes.
Minutes pass. Not enough to raise alarm... although enough to raise the tension a little. Then, there are splashes of footsteps returning. And here Tethis appears again... along with a young man who, indeed, matches Kara's description of Mival!
The newcomer looks at the party with a mixture of anxiety and distrust, of hope and pain: "So... She really did it? My mother Kara went so far as to convince adventurers to look for me? And these adventurers are... you?"
"Oh! Woodrow!? You too!?" the young man's face lights up even more with wonder "I know, you always told me about your heroic past! But... well, I thought that was just it - a past. Instead, for me, you're back... 'in action'? I..." he seems saddened "I'm sorry you risked your life for me. I didn't want anyone to risk or suffer. I just wanted to disappear and be forgotten".