Zaraknvyr steps from the lit warm coloration of the tavern into the familiarity of grey tones of shadow and darkness. The descent into dimness calms his own edge. Sure, the gnoll could sniff him out and see in the dark, but most other threats would be ill-advised to attempt his back in the dark. Fyodor's eyes remained in Zaraknvyr's mind for a few moments longer. The way he reached for the hammer. That one had fight. That one wasn't quite as bleak as the others. Yet.
His attention is brought back to the present as Abasi speaks. Zaraknvyr meets the feline gaze, but speaks to Tabiah's back.
"Does this familiar die with you, or is this feline true flesh and blood?"
Turning to face the sudden interloper, Mariel watched with the wary eyes of some predatory creature, waiting, muscles tensed and ready. Her hand had not yet reached for her sword. That would have been too obvious and too aggressive. There were rules. There were rules to violence even in Sigil.
Mariel trusted few people. She trusted fewer people in Sigil. And she trusted uninvited goblins trying to claim free ice cream least of all. She felt a pang of irritation. She didn’t understand. Once more, all too soon, she found herself perplexed by the actions of another. It was strange to ask for a gift offered to another. Impolite, even. Still...it was not her ice cream to give. If the hag wished to bestow a frozen treat on the greedy stranger, then so be it.
Shifting her ice cream further away from the goblin, Mariel took discrete steps to put herself between the new stranger and her compatriots. Uncertain of the seriousness of Lissandra's warning, she had decided to save her ice cream until after they had traveled through the portal. Beigeiros' suffering had left her feeling cautious about the effects of ice cream and dimensional travel.
Aaliyah politely thanked the hag and Beigeiros for the ice cream. Admittedly, it did look good, but she was still cautious. She wanted to cast Identify on the ice cream right then and there to make sure that there wouldn't be any adverse effects. But, she realized it would be rude, and the hag might recognize the ritual if she performed it right then and there.
She winces as Beigeiros ate his ice cream right then and there, causing a brain freeze. She answers the group, "I'll...eat mine after we go through the portal. Just in case!"
She was surprised to see a goblin approach the stand and take up the offer of ice cream in Lissandra's place. She did tense a bit. Things certainly became...interesting, the last time she encountered a goblin in Ishaan's palace, to put it mildly.
She noticed that Mariel had moved to position herself between Aaliyah, Beigeiros, and Lissandra, and the goblin, as though ready to defend them.
Aaliyah suggested to Mariel and Beigeiros politely, "Um...why don't we get going through the portal?"
The hag literally had to lean over the top of her stand in order to even see Garnet. She pointed a finger at the goblin before looking up towards the group. "This one with you?" she asks, though her tone implies she had a strong indication that she knows the answer. Nevertheless, she seems to be looking over her tubs of ice cream, trying to locate the flavour Garnet has just requested.
Lissandra is also looking at Garnet curiously. At Aaliyah's words, she hands the portal key over to the girl. "All you need to do is tap it gently against the door frame." She nods over to the door of the shop they were standing outside, before looking over at Beigeiros. "You can give her my ice cream if you want," she says. "It's your money after all. I can even reimburse you, if you wish." For whatever reason, she seems a little amused by Garnet's bluntness.
Ulgad gives Fyodor a sympathetic look. "It's understandable," he says. "Even in Sigil, there are some prejudices we can't quite break." He tilts his head to the side and gives a small, almost sad smile. "There are still some in the Bleak Cabal, mostly the younger recruits mind you, who are uncomfortable around me."
"Can't imagine why," Jarret mumbled into his glass.
If Ulgad heard the comment, he showed no reaction. Instead, he gives Fyodor reassuring pat on the shoulder before addressing the group as a whole. "Finish up your drinks, and then we'll head downstairs," he says. "Hopefully, that fanged fella and his companion will have enough of a head start that we won't have to interact with 'em." He pauses for a moment as if considering something before taking a swig of his own drink.
Meanwhile, there is a slight pause at Zaraknyvr's question as Tabiah continues her way down the stairs. "Familiars can't die," Tabiah says. "Not really, not like you and I can. If their physical body or the one who summoned them is killed, they just return to what they originally were and where they came from."
Abasi, for his part, doesn't say anything, merely wrinkling his nose at Zaraknyvr in an offended fashion. It's difficult to tell whether he's more displeased with the implied threat or Zaraknyvr assuming he's a common flesh-and-blood animal. Maybe it's a little of both.
They reach the bottom step, and Tabiah stops, peering into the gloom. While Zaraknvyr's dark vision allows him to see this room fairly clearly, it's obvious that it's more difficult for her. After a moment, she raises her hand and snaps her fingers, allowing a couple of nearby candles to spark to life, illuminating a decently sized wine cellar. While most of the barrels are stacked on shelves on their sides, there are few in one corner that are upright.
"... I suddenly realise that Riaen didn't actually tell me which barrel it was," Tabiah says. She frowns and take a couple of steps forward. "Hold on a moment." She mumbles some words under her breath and made a gesture in the air, clearly casting something. "Okay, that's a little easier." She looks over her shoulder at Zaraknvyr. "Not all of these barrels are portals, obviously, but most of those that are have been put over there." She sighs. "We should start searching, I suppose." She begins making her way over the barrels, all the while Abasi is very closely watching Zaraknyvr.
"Alright! Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back." Rath says. He then hurries off behind one of the other tents to get something, leaving Raella with Therlxora, Brakon and Harmyr.
Brakon pauses in his work for the first time to look in Raella's direction. "You may have noticed that we don't really have many arcane spellcasters, at least not this low down in the ranks," he says. "A couple of members likely still cling to old divine texts, but I have a feeling that's not what you're after." He considers Raella for a moment. "I could ask around, though, once I'm done with Harmyr here." He motions towards the injured dwarf.
Rath returns a minute or so later, carrying behind a large dead boar which he begins to set up over the fire. Raella will also notice a couple of other people starting to turn their gaze towards them as he starts cooking, clearly looking forward to their next meal.
Back at the lake, Sarceron raises an eyebrow. "Surely if you're familiar with the Wylders, you must know about the dissent amongst the Wylder's ranks?" he says. "The split into two sub-sects?" He shrugs. "From what I understand, the divide has caused some infighting, so much so they seem to be getting at each other fighting with each other almost as much as they would be fighting with the Vile Hunt. Cellach is attempting to open up negotiations between the two. After all, the Plane-tenders and the Wylders do have aligning goals, and while we don't get many Hunters around here, our members have run into enough of them out in the planes, and they don't make our job any easier."
Suddenly, Tanrith's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh, that!" he exclaimed with a nod. "Yeah, as somebody the Hunt would like to do nothing more with than put my head on a pike, I'm kinda in the middle of that whole thing in a way." He paused for a moment to consider that. "Erm...well, maybe not the middle? Maybe kinda like...off to the side a bit, but still inside the circle? Or...whatever this shape would be...?" He seemed to contemplate that for another few seconds before realizing just how off-track he was getting. "N-nevermind, the important thing is that's actually how I met the Wylders in the first place."
Tanrith let out a sigh, taking the moment to look down at Zyrech and pat the mechanical dragon on the head. "People like me are being hunted too, so I'm kinda forced to be on the side of the Crusaders. But even still, I think it's pretty dumb to fight amongst themselves like that." He grinned and looked back up at Sarceron again. "Super cool of this Cellach guy to try to work things out between them! Hope he gets somewhere with that. I know a bit about the other factions and sects, but they've never really been my focus. But you Plane-Tenders seem great! Thanks for looking out for my buds!" He bowed his head toward Sarceron at that.
Tanrith turned back toward Faelee with a small smile on his face. "Heh. No offense. I'm sure the Doomguard is plenty cool too. But the name's all...doomy and gloomy, so it's not really a great first impression, y'know?"
Finally, the small blue lizard adjusted himself on Zyrech's back as he decided to get things started. "Though as fun as this is, I guess we should probably actually think about what's going on here now, huh?"
"I didn't expect any of you to be gifted spell casters. Not as gifted as me anyways." Raella responded matter-of-factly, though with the faintest hint of a smug smirk on her lips. "But you're correct. I'm more after magical artifacts and tomes. I collect them, you see. I already have quite an extensive collection back in the Norinthall Manor. Not that you'll ever get to see it. In fact...Arndell!" She'd motion for her butler to come over, wearing an all too innocent smile. "Regale them with tales of my magical feats, will you?"
She'd turn her attention back to Brakon.
"If you do ask around though, and you do have one, I'll pay for it if it takes my interest."
Zaraknvyr let the words weigh on him. The pit of dread in his gut solidified. His pale eyes fell to the cat as Tabiah murmured her spell. As the vestiges of Detect Magic washed over him, he lifted a hand and curled it behind his own neck to scratch the irritation from his flesh. He meowed;
"Fellow hunter, in order to benefit of your talents I must safeguard your master. So be it."
Candles sparked to life. Zaraknvyr grunted, pulling his hand away from the mass of scar tissue at the base of his neck. His nails came away lightly blooded and he took care in licking them clean. The vestiges of his own spell faded shortly after his words, his comprehension of Abasi's mewing going with it. Such was the nature of magic and its fleeting boons. Such was why Zaraknvyr mastered his flesh first and the powers second. Paranoia licked at the back of his mind even now. His own searching would be a waste of time. Tabiah would inevitably find their goal without his aid. At their back, however, was potential danger. Bleakers. A fight he, frankly, was not certain he could win without cleverness and ambush. A fight that, truthfully, never needed to happen but he fantasized about nonetheless.
Fyodor's hand reaching for the hammer. Zaraknvyr's hands trembled in anticipation. He steadied them by pretending to go through the motions of searching; in truth he was moving to be away from the stair entrance, and at the edge of the light. Naturally seeking to cling to shadow and darkness as he lurked in quiet awareness of his party's rear and his own insane perception of potential hostiles. He moved a barrel here. A box there. Knocked upon a lid once or twice to create a positional noise, only to silently step away and do so again elsewhere. If he found their path it would truly be the fates guiding his hands, because his intentions were to delegate this task and prepare to hide should danger appear.
Beigeiros shook his head in answer to the bheur hag's question. He turned to look toward the source of all the commotion to see a goblin pushing their way up to the cart. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mariel maneuvering to put herself between the intruder, himself and the other two. He did not perceive a threat from the goblin, although their audacious assumption they could claim the icecream that was not offered to them left Beigeiros puzzled.
He looked to Lissandra and shook his head finally no longer feeling the brain freeze. "No need to repay me Lissandra. You have already done enough for me just by finding a way for me to get home. Well whatever is left of it anyway." His tone of voice dropped a bit with the statement to one of mild grief.
Beigeiros use the shaft of his halberd to lean against while observing the goblin looking for what Mariel may have seen. Still not seeing what she saw, he relaxed and calmly offered some advice. "May I suggest that next time you do not assume the generosity of others. Not everyone will be as kind."
He looked over to Mariel, Aaliyah, and Lissandra. "We should probably leave now. It will be good to be out of the city and back into the Outlands."
Fyodor found the understanding and the reminder that he wasn't alone in these habits to be reassuring. He shot an annoyed glance towards Jarret when the halfling made his comment, but quickly turned back to his wine when Ulgad ordered the drinks be finished up. Despite the order, Fyodor couldn't help drinking slower than he should have been. In his mind, a longer head start that the fanged drow had on the Bleakers would mean a lesser chance of them running into each other. A prospect Fyodor could definitely get behind. But since the order to finish drinks had been given, Fyodor knew he would need a reason for why he was still sipping. And so Fyodor asked Ulgad a question that had been on his mind ever since the gnoll announced his intention to join the expedition. "What was it that got you interested in this task?" Fyodor asked Ulgad. "You're not usually one for venturing out like this. What's changed your mind this time?"
"Yes, let us make haste," Mariel said, relaxing somewhat, but eyeing the goblin warily. She considered it likely that the diminutive creature would be distracted by the frozen treat that had been charitably relinquished to her.
"Tir na Og beckons. It can't be gone. It's there. Somewhere. It must be. We have to find it," Mariel half-whispered, turning to hide the unwelcome tears that threatened her eyes. To show pain was suggested weakness. To be weak was to invite predation. The wilds had taught her that. The uncountable wilds scattered across the planes.
Hiding her sorrow in anger, Mariel nodded, and moved to stand next to Aaliyah as if to suggest it was high time to open the portal and for the gathered party to move onwards. There were too many eyes in the market. There were too many schemers in Sigil. They had attracted enough attention.
Aaliyah snapped out of her hesitancy right when Lissandra pressed the key into her hand. She answers Lissandra's instruction on how to use the portal key cheerfully, "Understood. Thank you so much, Lissandra!" Garnet seems to have been forgotten as she focuses on the door frame and the key at hand.
She looks to Beigeiros and Mariel as they stepped up and expressed that they were ready to go to Tir Na Og, and she stands in between them. She answers, "Then let us make haste! There's no time to waste!"
With a flourish of the key, she boldly proclaims, "Off to Tir Na Og!" before tapping the key against the doorframe.
Mariel would be the one out of the group to recognize that Aaliyah was trying to mimic Ishaan's confidence and grandeur with the use of the key. She may have also been trying to be as elegant as possible when she flourished the key. Whether or not she was successful is still up to various opinions.
A more astute Goblin would've likely noticed the suspicion hurled her way, used to such reactions as her kind were — alas, Garnet didn't even know what astute meant. Especially not when there was ice cream to distract her. She was rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited, careless if impatient, neck strained to peer up at the hag and her many delicious tubs. Idly, she wondered if she should've asked for salmon flavour instead.
Behind her, the group she'd injected herself into was discussing leaving. Garnet paid them no mind, until one of them addressed her directly. It was the ice cream offerer guy! He was offering stuff again, except this time it was advice, which Garnet didn't need. He'd lost money, and she'd gotten free ice cream, so really, who should've been giving advice to who?
"Ya can sug'est anythin', yea!" she shouted up at the guy, a little louder than was probably necessary — but from her perspective, his head was high enough that it had to be windy and difficult to hear anything up there.
She grinned, wide, the tips of her ears twitching. "Dou't am gon' fol'ow it tho!"
Upon getting her ice cream and hearing what the group's destination was, she did proudly declare, however: "But! I am gon' fo'low y'als, so lead t'e way!"
The hag wordlessly scooped out some ice cream out of one of the tubs before handing it to Garnet. "Enjoy," she says. Her voice is cheerful but she still eyes the goblin warily.
As Aaliyah taps the coin against the door frame, light begins to ripple in the centre, spreading outwards until it envelopes the whole doorway. Within the light, the faint, fuzzy impression of the inside of a shop begins to form, though distinctly different from that of Trailblazers. This shop seems bigger, brighter and a lot messier, with several loose scrolls of paper dotted around the room, from the floor, to the desks, to some hanging on the walls. As the first adventurer steps through, the image ripples and shivers before becoming stable one more. As the group files through, Lissandra calls out one last time.
"Good luck to you all," she says. She even gives a smile towards Garnet, still very much amused by the goblin's behaviour. "Hope you all find what you're looking for."
Upon entering the portal, the group finds themselves in what that they can clearly tell is a cartographer's shop, and the papers they've seen all over the place are in fact maps of... varying qualities and states of completion. Sitting at the desk, currently working on one such map is a gnome man. He doesn't look round at the group at first but does call out, "Just a minute!" as if he is aware they are standing there. After a few moments, he turns to them, not seeming at all shocked by their sudden appearance.
He motions towards the map he has been working on. "What do you think?" he says, smiling expectantly as he waits for someone's opinion.
Beigeiros, since you ate your ice cream before entering the portal, roll me a Con save (this goes for anyone else who did the same).
Feel free to roll an Intelligence of your choosing if you wish to have more information about the map he's drawing.
Thankfully, Abasi seemed to have no more verbal responses to Zaraknyvr, merely an irritated shake of his head before turning his attention to the task at hand: helping Tabiah locate the correct barrel. The cat jumped down from his owner's shoulder and onto the lid of one of the barrels, sniffing at it curiously. After a moment, he jumped to another one and did the same. He did this a couple more times before calling out with an almost mournful meow. Tabiah walked over to the barrel he was sitting on and gestured for him to jump down. He did so, and Tabiah opened the lid. If Zaraknvyr was paying attention, he would notice than none of these barrels had their top rings, implying they'd been opened and emptied at some point once Riaen or some other staff member had verified their status as portals, though the scent of alcohol still lingered on them.
Tabiah tapped the stone to the barrel and light started to fill the container. "Well, that could of been trickier," she says. She motions for Abasi to stand on her shoulder once more, and the cat quickly obliges, going back to lounging round his owner's neck. Tabiah then turns to Zaraknyvr. "Ready to get going?" she asks.
For funsies, I rolled Investigation to see how long it would take Tabiah to find the right portal. She got a 19.
Ulgad pauses for a moment at Fyodor's question. "Why?" he repeats. "Eh, a few different reasons, I suppose. I don't really venture into the Outlands that often. Don't really want to run into any of my old packmates." He gives a small, slightly nervous laugh. "But I suppose I was curious to see it again, see what's changed, what's stayed the same. And well, a whole realm of the gods disappearing is worth some investigation, I think. I don't put much stock in deities these days, but I know a lot of people do. It brings them comfort I think, and the multiverse could use any source of comfort." He shrugs. "And from what I've heard, the deities of Tir na Og are some of the more... personable ones, for lack of a better word. They're not actively malevolent or destructive, but they're not overly righteous either. They're not as desperate to impose their will on mortals as some other deities are. They're just there. They're existing, like the rest of us. I think we need more deities like that."
On his mistress' command, Arndell gives a few small coughs to clear his throat. He then begins regaling those around the fire - the crowd of which is slowly growing as Rath starts cooking the boar - with a story of Raella using her outstanding magical ability to put out a fire in one of the many libraries they had visited on Raella's quest for magical knowledge. Of course, he left out a few parts, like how Raella was now banned from said library due to destroying the less magical texts in an attempt to put out said fire, and he stumbled slightly as he had to edit around any other bits that would paint Raella in anything resembling a negative light. It wasn't his best retelling, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was adequate. It even earned him an applause from Rath and a couple of the other people gathering around the campfire.
"Story round the campfire, always a lovely thing," Rath says. He then tears a leg off the boar he has cook and hands it to Raella and Arndell.
For funsies, I rolled a Performance check to see how well Arndell would regale the camp with stories of Raella's exploits. He got a 14.
The edge of Sarceron's lips tugged slightly upwards, as if he was barely suppressing a smile as Tanrith thanked the Plane-tenders for looking out for the Wylders... then it became an actual smile when the kobold made a dig at the Doomguard's name.
Thankfully, Faelee didn't seem to offended by the statement, giving her own smile and a shrug. "Hey, I didn't name the thing," she says. "Never been a fan of the name, myself. Doesn't feel like it properly showcases the philosophy..."
"The philosophy that everything will eventually wither and die, you mean," Sarceron says, somewhat coolly.
"Everything does wither and die, Sarceron," Faelee responds. "That's not a philosophy, that's just a fact. What matters is how you respond to that fact, how you choose to live your life knowing that." Before she can continue this point, however - or before Sarceron can make a response - her expression freezes for a moment and one of her ears perks up as if she hears something, though any attempts by Tanrith to try and percieve will yield no results. She raises up a hand. "Speaking of, we should take a few steps away from the lake. Azorigal is about to resurface." She takes a step back, as do Vivir and Rhuk.
Sarceron's brow furrows and he's about to open his mouth when large ripples start to form on the water just before something large breaks the surface, sending a cascade of water droplets in all directions. Flailing around in the water, a strange fish dangling from its jaws, is a young adult dragon, its scales translucent like coloured quartz and catching the light in a dazzling fashion that makes some parts of its body appear yellow and others a lime green. Its wings are odd, as if someone accidentally put them on backwards, and the spines on its back also aren't technically making contact with its body, instead floating above it as if held aloft by some invisible force. The dragon struggles with its prey for a moment before the fish in its jaws eventually goes limp, allowing the dragon to stand back up to its full height unburdened before making its way to the edge of lake. It deposits the barely-still-alive fish on the grass before taking a deep breath, as if has sourly missed the feeling of air in its lungs.
"I swear by Sardior," the dragon says loudly in common. "If I never have to submerge myself in another body of water, it will be too soon." It begins to crawl its way out of the lake, shaking itself as it does so and sending yet more water shooting off from its body. By this point, Sarceron, Faelee, Rhuk and Vivir are all thoroughly drenched.
Tanrith couldn't help but grin, pleased that things seemed to have smoothed over pretty well. He was glad that both sides here seemed to at least be in good moods again. Although he did pause to listen as Faelee and Sarceron spoke to each other again, describing what the Doomguard actually stood for. He had his own thoughts on the matter, but before he could respond with any of them, Faelee reacted...strangely. She seemed to stop and perk one of her ears up as though listening to something. Tanrith did the same, but whatever she was hearing, he couldn't. But he did not question her recommendation and quickly tapped Zyrech's back. The mechanical dragon-shaped creature shifted and stepped back just as far as Faelee and the other Doomguard members had retreated.
Tanrith couldn't help but be interested in this figure beneath the waves that they were talking about. He recalled Faelee mentioning something about their newest factioneer when he had first arrived and he couldn't help but be curious ever since. Although the fact that he was told to back up caught him by surprise. Surely somebody coming up from the water couldn't be such a big deal unless they were being chased or something, right...?
Tanrith got his answer the moment there wasn't just a simple rippling of the surface as a small humanoid would break the surface. Instead, Tanrith let out a loud "YIP!" of surprise and was nearly thrown off of his mech when he heard the small explosion of water and saw it all get thrown up into the air! He could have sworn he saw a whale at first. At least, that's what the shadow looked like as the water came crashing down around him and coming down on top of him! He braced himself and wrapped his arms around Zyrech's head horn as tightly as he could to keep himself from being thrown off!
Finally, once the wave of water had washed over them all, he opened his eyes again and looked up...to see a very interesting source. Suddenly, the fact that he was soaked and covered in lake water did not seem to perturb him at all. As he beheld the large, crystalline, draconic creature in front of him, his eyes widened in shock. If there had been anything he had anticipated of this factioneer, this was certainly not it.
Suddenly, if anybody were to look at Tanrith, they would swear they could see the hint of a sparkle in the Kobold's eye. Even as more water got shaken off by the creature, it didn't seem to bother him nearly as much this time around.
"Oh my Cugorok...." Tanrith gasped, mindlessly shifting into Draconic rather than Common. "No way...No flippin' way!" He turned his head toward Faelee, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. "You didn't say your factioneer was a DRAGON! How could you not mention that, that's SO COOL!"
Without hesitation, he practically leaped from the back of Zyrech and immediately rushed closer, no longer concerned at all that both he and his mech were still soaked from being within Azorigal's splash zone. Still speaking in Draconic, he couldn't help but immediately launch into questions. "Holy crap, look at you! You're amazing! I've never heard of a dragon that looks like you before! You don't look metallic, you're definitely not chromatic, what kind of dragon are you...? Ooh, how old are you!? You look a little bigger than the one back home in Cugor Bay, but not as big as the one out in the ocean. Can I touch your scales? Whoa, how do your spines do that!? Oh oh! What kind of breath do you have!? No, wait, lemme guess. It's not fire, is it? Well, it's not, like...acid or poison for sure. And you don't like water, so maybe it is fire, is it fire? Oh, no way, are you amphibious? I know some of 'em are.... Oh, I should probably ask if you're a boy or girl or something else. I don't wanna offend. Offending a dragon is the last thing a person will do, am I right? Heheh!"
His eyes continued to shine as he would attempt to move around the large dragon in front of him, eyeing them up from every conceivable angle he could, taking in this new, strange sight in awe. His babbling finally seemed to have come to an end with a snicker at that last joke while he continued to try to circle the dragon as best he could. His eyes were still lit up like as though he were a child meeting his idol for the first time in his life.
Tabiah's immense haste ensures that when she looks up to search for Zaraknvyr to prompt him, it is almost certainly with his back pressed to the wall near the stairwell and peering up it with that malicious and unbenign gleam of paranoia in his eyes. She speaks and he nearly jumps in his skin, whipping to face her.
"Ah, that was quick. Good. You are an efficient companion."
He pulls his cloak about himself and rapidly approaches to try and leave before his horrid fantasies became reality.
The entire time Arndell was speaking, Raella held her arms crossed against her chest, a smug shit eating grin spreading across her lips. Of course, she would do a much better job of the retelling, but having Arndell do it for her was both much more appropriate and also filled her with an undue sense of pride and accomplishment. Totally deserved, of course.
"Oh there's more where that came from." Raella replied with a smug, happy sounding chuckle. "Like that time I was able to successfully bargain with the Norinthall patron to-" Her voice trailed off as she was presented with a leg of meat. Oh god. Peasant food. Honestly, she didn't really have a problem eating this. It probably tasted fine, but she was a noble damn it and a noble like her should only eat the best of foods.
Her ear perked up, as she heard a rather giddy sounding voice across the mists. She couldn't see what was happening, but she would recognize that language anywhere! Draconic! Now, it could just be a kobold, or maybe another Dragonborn, but at the same time, someone speaking Draconic was rare in and of itself, and while she couldn't understand a lick of it (not that anyone else needed to know that), she definitely recognized it.
So, her curiosity peaked, it also gave her a good excuse to turn down the food.
"...ah, thank you for your generosity, but something has caught my attention just over there. Arndell, feel free to eat my stuff. Thanksseeyouinabit-" She'd say, extremely quickly as her voice faded as she'd briskly walk to the sound of the draconic being spoken, leaving a likely exasperated Arndell and confused god slayers behind.
And she was not disapointed in the slightest!
"An actual gods damned dragon!" Raella would waltz up without a care in the world, ignoring Tanrith and brusquely pushing past the kobold as her focus entirely was on the dragon, now. "Well, can't say I expected to find one out here of all places."
"Oomph!" Tanrith grunted as he suddenly felt somebody push past him. In his awe at the crystalline dragon before him, he had failed to register the call of the incoming newcomer. Thus, he was easily pushed aside since he certainly wasn't ready for it. This finally snapped him out of his trance of awe and he shook his head, turning to face the new...human girl? Well, she looked like a human anyway, though he knew better at this point than to assume anything about anyone in these parts of the multiverse.
He opened his muzzle for a moment, tempted to point out that he was right here and that she should ask next time...but now that he was post-trance, he heard what she was actually saying. And instead of trying to tell her off, his excitement suddenly came back to him as his tail wagged excitedly behind him.
"I know, right!?" Tanrith exclaimed as he practically jumped over to the human's side, simply excited to have possibly met another dragon enthusiast. "Aren't they awesome!? I think they were just about to answer a buncha my questions, but I-oh, wait, sorry, I'm supposed to introduce myself first, right? I'm Tanrith, otherwise known as the 'Lightning Fang of the Stormclaws!'" He put a lot of emphasis on his epithet line. "Nice to meet'cha!" he extended his claw for a moment, but then hesitated. "Oh, whoops! Heh. Right, forgot I was still kinda all wet. Sorry! One sec!"
Then, without another moment of hesitation, he crouched down...and suddenly began to shake himself off, scattering whatever loose water still clung to his armor and scales all around him...likely unintentionally splashing it right onto the girl beside him in the process. "There we go!" He then finally extended his still-damp claw again up toward her with a bright, possibly oblivious grin on his face.
A wave of nausea fell over Beigeiros as he walked through the portal. Immediately he felt more regret in not waiting to eat the ice cream, though it was likely not enough for him to not do so again. He let out a slow breath trying to help suppress the feeling of nausea while trying to figure out where here was. The room was cluttered with paper maps, many of which did not seem complete to the goliath. He noticed the gnome at the desk who called out to the group to wait for a moment. Beigeiros ducked to dodge a low ceiling joist while he moved to not block the way in for the others.
When the gnome at the table waved the group over, Beigeiros examined what the gnome was working on. "This is The Elemental Chaos." He says quietly, while suppressing another wave of nausea. "I can only imagine how long this has taken you to gather this information. Those areas tend to be difficult to traverse as is. I recognize some of the land marks from the few times I've gone with other Plane Tenders. "
Garnet was spared from the ill effects of dimensional travel with a stomach full of sugar, not due to any form of self-restraint, but by the rest of the group's rush. She simply didn't have time to gobble up the cone in one go (the only proper way to eat ice cream), before she had to scurry after the rest of the party.
As she was hurrying through the portal, she caught the tail end of the Ice Cream Refuser's send-off and the accompanying smile. Garnet matched it with a grin and a wave of her hand.
What they found on the other side of the doorway was far less interesting than the Bazaar. Rows upon rows of stalls and vendors had been replaced by boring old scrolls, the stuffy smell of dust and ink heavy in the air. It was a far cry from the smells of the marketplace, which had been overwhelming and strong and interesting.
A gnome was busy at work, calling out to them to come inspect his work. Tall Ice Cream Offerer walked up and did so. Garnet yawned and ate the ice cream with her entire face — and hair, judging by some of the tarry remains on her strands.
Well, sounded like they got the whole map thing figured out, so—
She looked around, fingers sticky from both ice cream and greed. Maps, maps, maps, and-- shiny?! Her gaze honed in on a few compasses lying around, as well as small trinkets of unknown origins. She could tell some of the former were dwarven craftsmanship, and that small whiff of home turned her impish grin into a somewhat more somber smile.
All the same, she snuck towards the compass — and whatever else she might accidentally pick up on the way.
Garnet tries to sneak towards the compasses and trinkets with a stealth check of 11.
"And from what I've heard, the deities of Tir na Og are some of the more... personable ones, for lack of a better word. They're not actively malevolent or destructive, but they're not overly righteous either. They're not as desperate to impose their will on mortals as some other deities are. They're just there. They're existing, like the rest of us. I think we need more deities like that."
This, more than any other of Ulgad's reasons, struck a chord with Fyodor. He thought of the gods of his homeland. Of the Morninglord, who hadn't answered a prayer in over three hundred years. Of Mother Night, who had forsaken his people and cursed their land for the offences of ancestors centuries dead. How different a place would the land Fyodor had left behind be were its gods like those of the Celtic pantheon?
"I can imagine the advantages." Fyodor said in response to both Ulgad's words and his own mind's question. Fyodor took another sip of wine. As he drank, his mind posed another question. Though Fyodor had no reason to doubt the truth of any answer Ulgad had given, did the gnoll decide to omit a reason or two? He did decide to join the expedition right after hearing that Fyodor had been assigned to it after all. Fyodor didn't bother voicing the question though. Even if his hunch was correct, whether or not Ulgad was keeping a reason secret didn't really matter. Helping those who had been affected by the disappearance was what mattered.
