Beyond all the practical, needful, and noble reasons for it, Morgan was glad to be one of Budig's retainers asked to attend on this journey.

Firstly – what better way to spend the holiday season, then back in the company of the lord and lady whom she served out of true admiration, and not merely as a vehicle to further her vocation.

Secondly –  the Elves as a culture had captured her imagination since she was a girl.  And as an arcanist herself, how could she not find fascination with a culture whom practiced the occult with such artistry, such style, and wove it into their daily lives in a manner so wholly natural?   And such an elegant and sophisticated people, as well.  The Atlantic tribe further added the majesty and elemental grandeur of the ocean to their mystique.

The passage aboard Raydul's sloop was breathtaking travel.   In spite of spending her childhood so near the coast, and coming from a family of some means, Morgan's experience on ship deck was minimal.  And nor, for that matter, had she had much desire for seafaring, after she'd been accepted to the Academy, and all her focus had gone toward her studies, and building her new life there.  But all that notwithstanding, she was yet too much a daughter of Brevastus not to be moved by the sea.   And the sailing along the southern coast, in the sleek and elegant Elven craft, was so stirring and soothing all at once.   The winter air was incongruently warm in this region, and as pleasant as could possibly be.  Morgan gave thanks – humorous and serious in roughly equal measure – to any local sylphs whom bestowed this blessing.

Once they had sighted Khyberon itself, Morgan gave a little gasp of pleasure at the sight of its ancient towers; embellished by the sort of graceful detail that Elven kind was renown for.  She could but imagine what it would be like, to have access to those five grand towers, and more specifically their balconies.  To stand upon them, and gaze out onto the breath-stealing vista of Brittany's coast, the periphery of the Elvish kingdom, and the great Atlantic itself…

As the sloop passed the vaulting arch into Khyberon's dockyard, its bridges and dozens of wooden domiciles hove into view.  It appeared that the Elves had visitors of their own kind, which caught her interest and curiosity.   What else might be abrew-?

The excitement expressed by the selkie Ongriss very much mirrored Morgan's own.  Her anticipation to disembark, and to walk and see firsthand this place, was growing. And, in short enough order, so they had.   She could have spent more time lingering in the outdoor market –  particularly at the eccentric alchemist's stall –  but Raydul had shepherded them rapidly inside Khyberon's main hall.  Much to Morgan's delight, once they were in.

The wizardess gazed upwards, in appreciation, of the deeply polished, wooden, peaked arches, and their painted depiction of storm beset skies.  Again – Morgan's thoughts were of the sylphs, and the ways in which sea and sky did touch – in both metaphysical and natural relationship.  But, her attention was soon yanked from such lofty contemplation, to a more mundane, if no less exciting interest.    She smiled fully, grinned even –  once she realized the hall boasted an indoor shopping arcade.   Not at all anything she'd have expected –  but, so very, very welcome!  She was as much woman, as wizard.  Made no bones of it.   Saw those not at all as exclusive to each another.   She could enjoy beautiful garments and accessories, just as thoroughly as she could finding rare spell components.   It was all equivalently good, from her perspective.  Especially since she had enough means to indulge herself, if she so chose.

Not to any wretched excess, mind.   It was quality that brought a smile to her lips;  not egregious quantity!

Before ascending the wide, spiral stair, Morgan cast a lingering glance toward the hair salon.  A little trim by a talented Elvish stylist – what woman could resist–?

But, perhaps for later.   For now, she must settle into her quarters, and see if Budig and Elaine require anything immediately of her.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:31, Tue 05 Feb 2013.

As much as she might want to pause and look at the interesting shops and stores, Ongriss is acclimated enough to human customs to know that they need to stay with the King at least until they get settled in. The fish stalls are especially inviting, and she wonders briefly if they have waffles. If not, maybe she can teach them how to make them or at least crepes!

The view of the vaulted ceiling so high up is intriguing. She's much more used to the simple buildings that her folk and the humans use. In an awe-struck voice she whispers "How do they do that?"

As they walk along, she threads her arm in Vincetas'. Once they get to the room, she cleans up some and grins at his comment. "I've never been any place like this. It's so different. I'm glad the king brought us here." She giggles at his comment on the fish stalls. "You know me too well."

She twirls in front of him. "So do you want to get a new dress and have my hair done up?"

King Budig traveled with his wife, Elaine, and his daughter, Gwen.  The Queen and Princess have been dragged on several journeys beyond their simple royal home in Kemperlacum, generally when Budig feels the circumstances are safe.  And what could be safer than an Elven fortress?

From up on the terrace of the “guest house” he looks out towards the mainland.  Darioritum, the largest city in Brittany, is not so far away- a mere 20 miles as the seagull flies, a little longer for a boat to pass the straight of Ardon and cross Morbihan Bay to reach the harbor.  But surprisingly close… and yet, different worlds.

The Elves do not normally have Human visitors.  Word gets around quickly.  A steady parade of Elves find excuses to be somewhere near Budig and his party.  Not to stand and gawk… just to take quick, curious glances.

For their part, the royal family makes use of the guest rooms to change.  Clothes picks up the salty spray of the sea and stiffen- it will be more comfortable to dine in clean clothes.  They assume Morgan will want to do the same. Fortunately, they packed well for the short trip, expecting this.

(Vincentas probably never notices, and neither does Ongriss.  Covered in salt water is her normal existence)

As the characters are guests, the Elves do not leave them to simply wander.  Guests must be fed and entertained, so following a reasonable (long) rest for changing clothes and settling in, the Elves provide an evening dinner.

There are a lot of  Elves.  Again, the curiosity.   Word has spread; it’s not just “some Humans”, it’s their leaders!  The great hall of Khyberon has about fifty Elves in it, and even a few non-Elves; Fey Folk who also live among the islands and coasts here.

The Elves serve seafood, of course.  It’s the main course for just about every meal.

 He was not sure how doing a fancy haircut would survive once Ongriss went for a swim he smiles and nods towards the dress shop "Why not have a look to see what kind of dress they might have that will fit you and is somewhat resistant to dampness and cold.

 No i am curious about the other fey that have come around the outpost here and what information they may have heard about the war and who has done what to who."

 He marched proudly alongside Ongriss as they attended the welcome for the king and his entourage of humans and few. He enjoyed the food and small talk but he found himself assuming a more alert status to those who seemed to pay to much attention to the king. He was fairly sure that the huns could hire some assassain to try and take out the king, even here within the elven realm.

Ongriss enjoys looking at the elven throngs as much as they enjoy looking at them. Giving them a grin, she walks along next to Vincentas behind the queen.

The food is remarkably good. Of course a lot of it is seafood, the elves certainly know how to eat well! "Oh, this is good!"

When Vincentas tells her about the dress shop, she nods. "Maybe later. I'd like to explore first!"

Radyul doesn't leave his guests much time to explore that evening.  Besides, with the setting of the sun the other Elves- those that aren't actually present for the dinner- have their own lives to get back to.  Elven shops do not open late.  In the view of Elves, there is no need for impatience.  They can always shop tommorow.

He keeps the group entertained.  After dinner, there is wine and tea and the playing of Elven music and the reciting of an Elven ballad, the classic "Tower of Niphridel".  The ballad is beautifully done but very hard to follow even if you speak Elven. Fortunately, Ongriss has heard it before (Selkies and Elves have had extensive contacts, even intermarrying, although for the most part Selkies just don't think Elves have the same fun zest for life that they find with Humans.) and she can explain.

Eventually, Radyul calls it a night, everyone calls it a night, and they return to the Khyberon guest rooms.

The beds are nice, but may be on the soft and fluffy side for some, and were not made for someone as big as Vincentas.  His feet dangle over the end.


The next day, Radyul hosts a late breakfast, and learns that his guests might want to explore.  He sets himself up as tour guide.  He starts with the grounds outside, apparently thinking that Khyberon's beaches, rocks, cliffs, and trees are special because, well, because it's Elven here.  They do look somehow grander and more colorful than other places, though.

As they walk along, the king and Lord Radyul share the tidbits they've received about the war in the east.  As far as Radyul understands, it is very serious now, and the Ardennes Elves feel besieged.

In reply to Ben (msg # 394):

Mystal busied herself darting from one crevice to another, passing between the spray as it sprang up from the sheer rock face. Her last sweep of the hardy grass was both rewarding and sorrowful. Deftly landing alongside a clump of grass as it clung tenaciously to the cliff she peered intently into its midst. Yippeee she cried in delight at her discovery Its a tenner she jubilantly informed the rocks walls.  Now all she had to do was find someone to confirm her find. Removing her belt bright orange and secured it to a boulder that sheltered the tenner from the sea. Nodding contently she darted up heading towards the biggens haven which was a shot distance away. Fortunately she noticed a group strolling nearby; they would serve well enough to verify the find, and perhaps even offer to look to assisting with this boon. As she approached she notice the groups composition somewhat odd prompting her to coming to a halt ten foot above then. Well met this fine day to Thee biggens; wouldst Thee be willing to acknowledge our discovery she announced.

ooc Mystal has found a clump of ten leaf clover and is hoping to get the elves to confirm her find
This message was last edited by the player at 11:09, Thu 07 Feb 2013.

There Fey are few in number, and they live in complete harmony with the natural world around them, asking little from it and always returning more than they take.  As such, they are always welcomed by the Elves- though sometimes with caution, as the Elves have learned to anticipate the often “playful” approach to life of the Fey.

This one is a kind of Sea Sprite- the small creatures related to Pixies that play above the waves where they crash against the rocks.  That is their natural environment- no matter how violent the surf, a Sea Sprite can skip along the waves as easily as an Elf through a spring meadow, never in the slightest bit of danger.

Talk of the war in the east stops suddenly,  and Radyul halts the little party- a small group of Elves, and his Human guests.  Humans have never been seen on Khyberon, at least, not in a long time.  The Elf lord takes a few moments to tell his wide eyed guests that this is a Sea Sprite.

Morgan knows much about the Fey folk, having spent her childhood on the rocky shores of Finistere.  Ongriss has seen them before, of course.  And Vincentas has seen a few.  They even know one by name- Sinaluria, an “associate” of Merana the Ocean Nymph.

But this isn’t her.

In curiosity, Radyul the Elf lord approaches the sprite.  It's his land, his castle, and therefore, his duty.

He leans in to inspect the little plant.

"Forgive me," he says, "I am an Elf of the sea, and do not know the lore of land plants so well.  It is clover with ten leaves, is it important?  I am Radyul, little one.  Welcome to Khyberon."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:05, Thu 07 Feb 2013.

Ongriss explains the ballad as best she can, and curls up on the bed with Vincentas. Of course, in a bed (even a short one meant for elves) she doesn't take her seal form. It's surprisingly comfortable, and she makes the best of it.

She is grateful that Radyul gives them a tour of the place, though she's a little surprised that he's the one to do it. She walks along, her bare feet dig into the sand of the beaches; as they go along, she pokes into all kinds of places that she finds along the way. Sometimes she lags behind and others she races ahead of the group and then finds something interesting to distract her for a little while until the rest of the group catches up and passes her.

She's letting the kings talk of war and other stuff when she spies a sprite heading towards them. Curious, she pauses and watches as the sprite talks with Radyul. She tries to remember what Uncle Cullen told her about 10 leaved clover.

23:25, Today: Ongriss rolled 15 using 1d20+8. knowledge nature.

In reply to Ben (msg # 396):

Mystal gave the assembly a curtsey Tis a pleasure to meet Thee Long legged Radyul, anst Thy company we are Mystal Fortunata. she informed, motioning for them to follow. After gliding some twelve feet she flipped about to face the regal elf. Aye Master Radyul, Methinks it be a boon, ast Aunt Myfista oft maintains; any clove having moren three leaves be sure to bring some a good turn. she imparted almost by wrote.  Ast such We doth think a crop of Tenners be moren much much better. she beemed.  Come see here for Theeselves she flapped her delicate wings several times covering another eight feet, and pointed at a clump of clover which had a small orange cord tied about several of its leaves.

Enjoying the walk, Morgan wondered at the seemingly random arrival of this fae.   So very much had hinged on the presence of these beings, of late.  She had discussed as much with Budig and Elaine, just before they had departed.   And, now...one presented itself to their company.   Morgan was not so much a believer in coincidence.  Her studies, and of more import recent experience, had made of her a firm believer in patterns, if not outright fate.  Which she did not believe was predetermined.  Experience had shown her that, as well.  As to clovers...

The Romans associated the (rather meager, compared to the eight, or the "tenner") triple clover with their triple goddess -- a deity for whom Morgan's reverence was strongest, of all the gods. And, her own people held it a sacred symbol of the sun. In hedge-witchery, the red clover was used in a ritual bath to attract prosperity, as well as a floorwash to chase out evil and unwanted ghosts. The white variety was used for breaking curses, worn as a sachet, or put in the four corners of a home to effect that purpose. The four-leaf was of course a semi-famous good luck charm. One considered to ward against a whole host of bedevilments.

But this fae sought and had discovered the wholly rare "tenner."  Perhaps, an auspicious sign for all of them, and for the cause that brought them here.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

There was once an industrious Gnome baker, who observed that his customers paid more for loaves of bread that came pre-sliced.  Cutting the bread into slices, however, was a tedious task, and so the baker enlisted the support of the tinkers in his family.  They built a marvelous contraption of gearworks and blades,  capable of quickly cutting up four loaves of bread at once.

Now, customers appeared just to see the machine at work- and often purchased the bread.  The baker prospered as a result, and was soon a very wealthy baker.

He would later say that he owed his good fortune to his lucky four loaf cleaver.



* * * * * * *

The arrival of the Fey, with the strange clover, changes the mood of the day.  Budig and Radyul cease talking of politics and battles, strengths and risks.  There is an instinct by a few of them to approach the delicate little creature, but Budig's wife, Elaine, knows some Fey lore and knows they don't like to be crowded.  She motions for people to give the Sprite room.

"I've seen them before," Budig says.

Radyul makes a beckoning gesture towards Mystal.  "Dear little one," he says.  "May I present our other esteemed guests.  Budig... the second, is it not?  King of Brittany.  Of... the Human lands of Brittany, of course, though no doubt you have heard that for the first time among Humans, this king has struck fair agreements with your kind and ours.  And that is his wife Elaine, and his daughter Gwen... and the wizard Morgan, the Mariner Vincentas, and his wife Ongriss."

Out and sea, there is another boat turning towards the harbor.

Radyul looks at his.  His eyes are sharp, even for Elves.

"I do not believe you are the only Fey being here," he says.

In reply to Ben (msg # 400):

Mystal sweeps upwards a short distance arching towards Radyul pausing to hover 5' from him. With a nod and a smile she repeats each name and affords a curtsy to the long legged being is introduced. At the mention of a wizard she gives a slight wiggle. Wouldst Thee be such enchantresses who inclined to turn any Fae into a frog, or badger or a... she paused smiled, curtsey and repeat Mariner Vincentas, Mariner wife Ongriss's name. Then tilted her head in a questioning manner to peer at the wizard Morgan

Before I answer this one -- does Morgan have any knowledge of what Mystal is referring to-?  I'm unclear if this is folklore, or something that happened in game (when other players had this character), or other.

As well perhaps any recognition of this ship.  Morgan has the general Kn skills wizard sorts often have.  Will roll, if needed...

Ongriss hangs back when Mystal approaches. She's dealt with the fey enough to know that they can be very shy and don't like to be crowded.

She flashes a grin and waves when the little sprite pronounces her name. "You don't have to worry about Morgan! She uses her magic to help. I was told that she helped stop an unseelie duke that was trying to usurp power from Princess Rosedrake!"

In reply to Morgan (msg # 402):

ooc I'd attribute her question to Fey folk law, rumour and mischief

In reply to Ongriss (msg # 403):



Mystal's eyes widened and she clasped both hands together in an excited manner.
Thee hath rendered aid unto Princess Rosedrake by preventing the Unseelie Duke from usurping her power... Ye are truly a wondrous Enchantress, one who doth aid the fair anst homeless... Pray do forgive our error of comment for any who wouldst risk life anst limb in the service of such a fair Princess be beyond suspicion she curtsied and smiled once more at Morgan. Turning to face the clump of clover she paused a moment to reflect on who Princess Rosedrake and this Unseelie Duke were all about.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:12, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

News of the bizarre (and possibly courageous, even revolutionary) doings of Nia Sian Rosedrake has reached King Budig long ago (through Morgan, when she came home) and he fills in the others who do not know the story, including Radyul.

A little Brownie Background, first:

Of all the various races of Fey (who call them “Kinds”) the Brownies are a very unusual lot.  Along with their cousins, like the Domovoy of the great forests of the East, they are the Fey that have adapted to the ways of mortals.  Most Fey are creatures of nature- Brownies like peaceful, prosperous Human villages.

But they are still tiny creatures, and very shy.  Brownies will typically inhabit the home of a good hearted person who needs help.  They will provide help, and in return, “borrow” things they need.

A Mortal who knows Brownie Lore will understand what it means when there a job left half done in the evening is mysteriously complete in the morning- or perhaps the torn curtains resewn, or the floors cleaned.  If they know Brownies, they will leave out rewards for the Brownies- food, and materials for them to work with.  But they will never, ever, mention the presence of the Brownies, for Brownies hate being noticed.

The Brownies are like this because they are Fey- shy, secretive… but they have also learned to appreciate the nice things about Civilization.

(To other Fey, Brownies appear very eccentric.  Not downright touched-in-the-head loopy like Pixies, but eccentric.)
And he tells the tale:

Once upon a time,  a very recent time, there was a little Brownie named Nia Sian Rosedrake.  The Brownies, emulating the ways of Mortals, long ago adopted the titles of Mortals.  The head Brownie in a town is the mayor, and there are lords, kings, etc.  This can be odd because like all Fey, there are not many of them.  A kingdom can be a few hundred Brownies.  But… we said eccentric, right?  And they take it very seriously.  Royalty is Royalty.  So Brownies listen to Rosedrake because she is a Princess.

Then she decided- she should be princess of Something.  Not just a clan of Brownies sneaking around Human towns, but a real place they could call their own.  On top of that, it would become the core of a genuine nation.  She established her nation on an island off the north shore.
The large number of Fey on the north shore of Brittany already regard her island as a meeting place where the different Kinds can cooperate- that right there is a very new thing for Fey.   But a nation?  The results of the venture have yet to be clear

In reply to Ben (msg # 406):

Ahhah One's delighted Master biggens King Budig, of Thy knowledge of our urbanited kinsfolk. anst Thy entreeties with Princess Nia Sian Rosedrake for such close association be sure to bring may benefits for each. she smiled rubbing her hands together, and glanced at the others What Thinkest Thee wouldst yon tenner be as it appears, a tenner in need of suitable care careful attention. she enquired

 He had meet some fey in his travels and even more with Ongriss but he had to admit that this one was very different then any he had seen before. Still to be polite he made a nod slowly to the small figure by the clover.

 "I am Vincentas, just a sailor who got very lucky", looking over to Ongriss with love, "I confess that i dont know fey history very well at all, so will accept the words spoken for truth in all this. Either way any friend of the elves is my friend by our bond with the king to the elves here."

 Not sure what the elf had said he would try and slip around any commitment to himself or of the ship for now.

"There was no offense taken, Mystal Fortunata," replied Morgan with a smile.  "And, no worries that I'd be changing fae, or any other folk, into other than what they should be. I've not learned such spells of changing, as yet. And have no present plans to. Yes, I am the same Morgan who aided the princess Rosedake.  A most gracious and good hearted princess. Even compared to her generally gracious and good hearted people.  It was my honor to help." 

And, for all that she had originally departed Brittany to receive instruction in esoteric knowledge, not readily found at home -- it was interesting that she returned to be employed by a pair of people, who were not without their own such.  The heritage of their native culture -- untouched by the Romanization that was yet present in regions like Brevastus.

"I think in fact those tenners are quite authentic," Morgan nodded. "And suitable care and careful attention are fully appropriate. Is there something your people usually think is best, after you find them-?"

In reply to Morgan (msg # 409):

Mystal clapped her hands together joyfully her face beaming with pleasure. She flew up and dropped gliding around Morgan's head three times Thankee, thankee, thankee Mistress Enchantress, for not changing any Fae into other than what they are anst for Thy confirmation.

Ongriss snuggles into Vincentas' arm while they talk with Mystal. She gives a shrug in response to the question about the clover since she doesn't remember anything that Uncle Cullen mentioned about it.

She giggles slightly when Vincentas comments about being lucky. "I am very lucky too." Her arm is around Vincentas' waist, and she gives him a hug.

Since Morgan seems to know about these plants, she nods in agreement. "Morgan is very smart and knowledgeable. I'm sure that her advice is good."

The way the little fey swoops and whirls in the air is amazing. It's almost like she can swim in the air! "Do you swim?"

In reply to Ongriss (msg # 411):

Mystal paused midflight prompting her to execute a forward roll tucking her wings in then spreading them to arrest her forward motion. This lifter her a foot higher, why of course all fey swim

“We have a good terrace garden in which we can plant this… tenner,” the Elven Lord says, pointing up towards one wall of the Khyberon castle.  The party can see fronds of green draping down over a parapet.   “It is kept warm through the winter, to provide herbs and flowers.  I suspect that with the winter upon us, it will do better there than anywhere.”

And then he directs everyone back towards the inner harbor.  “But there is one of our boats arriving,” he says.  “And unless my eyes fail me, another of Mystal’s kind is with them, for I see one flying about them. “

He looks at the little Fey.  “Is there something I should know?  Some meeting I am not aware of, planned for Khyberon?”

Walking back towards the inner harbor, they can clearly see that two women coming off the boat are definitely not Elves.   And that small Fey creature, perched on the one young man’s shoulder…

Not a Sprite… A Pixie.

It is said among the Fey that the Pixies are immortal, yet ageless- they are either blessed or cursed to have eternally child like minds.  They frolic and play and plan tricks and pranks and never take things as seriously as they ought to, and they live in deep, beautiful places within the forests.

But this Pixie is familiar to a few, and the familiarity runs two ways.  It approaches like a small rocket, delicate wings beating furiously,  leaving a trail of golden glitter hanging in the air, and shouting in a gleeful, squeaky little voice; “MORGAN!!!”

So excited is the Pixie that Morgan is quite sure she heard all three exclamation points.

The two groups converge in a new thread:  Khyberon.