Theirs a small coffee shop in town its cozy enough inside, but also has a lot of people sharing a drink outside too.

the music play is perpetualy changing, ranging from very soft extremely lively.
the place isnt a freehold, but is a popular enough hang out for many Kithain, commoner and noble alike, almost exclusively Wilders

Right now, theirs a Wilder Squirrel Pooka by the name Annabelle, with her Tail curled in her lap currently sipping a cup of Cappuccino

You know her enough to know shes unseelie, She trades in information, and oftentimes plays malicious pranks.

She was happily seelie throughout her childer years, but the Accordance war killed several of her friends, and left her feeling Devastated and embracing her darker impulses


Theirs also a boggan , who you know is training to become a baker, he's quite seelie, and is a trustworthy salt of the earth fellow, he's finished his drink and enjoying the afternoon.

(You can approach either of them, or do something else)

As Bathsheba ap Scathach enters the cafe, she neatens her headwrap, silver jewellery chinking at her wrists, and looks around. She's a very tall Afro-Caribbean woman dressed in elegant but expensive clothes--a purple suit, evidently tailored, with an orange ethnic print silk shirt underneath. Although she is 43, she looks like she's in her mid-30s. To fae eyes, her suit is layered with lightweight armour plates adorned with ornate symbols. She wears trousers for mobility, which are padded at the shins and ankles. Meanwhile, her eyes are magnificent flashing brown, like the bottoms of bronze pans, a clear marker of her fae heritage which peeks through into her mortal seeming.

As she spots the boggan, she nods, recognising age before beauty, and then nods, too, at Annabelle. Opting to keep to herself for now, she heads to the counter. 'Do you make Turkish coffee?' she asks. 'Last time I was here, the girl recommended I try it and it was great.' She smiles at the server, aiming for a warm but authoritative demeanour, which is her preferred way of dealing with mortals.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Tue 20 Sept 2016.

he nods "We do indeed ma'am" he says with a smile.

'That would be great,' she says, maintaining her pleasant smile.

When the hot cup arrives, she takes a seat at the back of the cafe, observing.

Sat alone, and now sure she's not being watched, Bathsheba begins to trace the shape of a veve on her hand with her chimerical blade. As she chants to Orunla, Orisha of fate, she draws Glamour to her to empower her rune.

Bathsheba wants to use her Treasure here to create a rune on her hand. She intends to then read her palm if the rune attempt is successful, using the extra successes from the rune to make her prediction more accurate. If it's appropriate, she'll actually carve the rune/veve (chimerically) into her palm. Treasure systems being what they are, I'm not 100% on the system for activation. Does it automatically work if she fulfils certain criteria, or is she required to power the imbued Art with a roll?

After creating her veve, she pauses her chanting, drinks her coffee quickly, and then peers at the swirling coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup. Resuming her chant, but this time even less than a whisper, she smears the grounds across her now tattooed palm and begins to read...

So this is her bunk for the scrying cantrip.

Okay, I'm adlibbing here and assuming perhaps, as it's a simple Treasure and a simple effect, the Treasure just gives its rating as dice to the rune-enhanced cantrip. That seems balanced, I guess. So she'll roll for Soothsay 1/Omen with those two dice added on. So it's Intelligence (Scholarly) 4 + Fae 5. I'm guessing the bunk of cutting her palm to make a veve, smearing on the coffee grounds and chanting to read her fortune counts as at least a level 3 bunk? But I'll include my full dice roll just in case it isn't: 00:44, Today: Elizabeth rolled 13 successes using 11d10 with the World of Darkness 3rd ed, Specialised system with a target of 3, rerolling 10s ((6,3,7,8,10(+9),8,7,6,4,10(+8),5)). Even if it was only a level one bunk, thus reducing the difficulty to 8, she'd still have four successes. So what does she see in her own Dan?

She Can see Harmony, about to be shattered, a time of Political tribulation, that could establish her in the court... or destroy her utterly.

Intrigued by what she sees in the Dan, Bathsheba considers her options. Would fame and fortune suit her? Perhaps. What about power? Undoubtedly much more so. Political power brings with it titles, titles bring holdings, holdings bring Glamour and access to the Dreaming. These things she could enjoy, even if it means mingling with the buffoons of court.

Standing, Bathsheba draws on her inner reserves of wit and cunning, and heads over to Annabelle. She is precise in her movements, showing poise and power.

'Good afternoon, Annabelle,' she says. 'May I sit?'

She pauses for a second sizing you up then says.

"We are not at all interested in making the acquantance of another Kithain And it would not aid us at all to have someone who could do the next order for us, talking with the shopkeeper and explaining our order is very easy" she says pulling up a chair.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:57, Sat 24 Sept 2016.

Smiling darkly, Bathsheba considers the little riddler before her. To help the girl would no doubt make her indebted to Bathsheba--at least in some small manner--and that might be helpful in her search for allies here. With her mentor still at large somewhere, and the mark that might leave on her own reputation, she has her work cut out for her. But she has things to do. Important things to do.

'Of course,' she says. 'What would you like to drink? Then maybe we can chat.'

"Definitely not a Chai smoothie, with whiped cream on top" She says with a smile getting out $5, limiting what she owes you for, to relaying hte order for her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:04, Sun 25 Sept 2016.

'It would be my pleasure,' she says, waving away the money. 'I'll be two minutes.'

Bathsheba orders the drink, then brings it over to the young pooka. She takes a seat, imposing, commanding. Her back is straight, her hands resting together in front of her on the table.

'I hope it's good,' she says. 'So, I'm new here, but I've seen you around. I think it's always useful to scout out fellow Unseelie. We're usually in the minority, right? Power in numbers and all that.'

She studies the curious creature before her and continues, 'Do we have any Unseelie freeholds here? I'd like so introduce myself to the landlord in case I need to . . . replenish myself.'

She accepts the drink then smiles bitterly at the question

"Absolutely, our seelie masters have been so very generous with us. I've of course forgiven them for killing my mentor with Cold iron, water under the bridge, since neither he nor I were at all especialy loyal to the Seelie court" She SEETHS with quiet outrage, even if you did not know she was a pooka, you might have guessed she was telling you the opposite of the truth.

'And they call us the tyrants!' she says, her voice as dark and thick as treacle. 'Tell me, are the nobles here popular? I myself have no title. As a lowly Scathach, I am seen as something less than sidhe, it seems. But I don't mind. My kind have mingled in the Autumn World with the commoners when the other houses snubbed those who remained. There are lessons they have never learned.'

"Their are none amongst the Sidhe who know better, im sure if their were any they would be listened to" she says shaking her head sadly.

"Popular? On the surface everyone hates and resents them, underneath, more then a few think their nice guys, but not enough to help them any"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:20, Mon 26 Sept 2016.

She nods, mulling over the words and what they actually mean. So, she thinks, it's as expected: unpopular sidhe, but without any real, organised opposition.

'What if the opposition were to organise? What then? I do wonder if your kind can ever learn to share. There should be Glamour enough for all, don't you agree? And these humans have taught us much: though the Dreaming picks natural leaders, it surely doesn't presume that only those it picks to lead from birth should ever do so? After all, the Dan is a largely ineffable thing. We merely try to interpret the signs it gives us.'

She shakes her head.

"When I first heard of the return of the sidhe It filled me with outrage despair,  and Fear." sighs forlornly

"Now I welcome their rule with open arms, and have no interest, whatsoever in seeing them feel what I felt when I learned of the Fae death of my mentor, who taught me since I was a childling of only 4. My Departure from the seelie court was quite amicable."

she pauses raising an eyebrow.

"To be sure, were only fighting for the unseelie, right not for those commoners who are still loyal to the Seelie court too right? I am of course, not at all interested in preserving the innocence of idealistic childlings like I once was, it would be wonderful if they all grew up like me, I am after all so very chipper."

sighs Shaking her head

"Its so right and fitting dont you think, I dont feel at all like a Grandmother towards childlings. Not that it would be that ridiculous to feel that way at my age. Because if I did Im not at all curious if I'd be a kind and doting Grandmother, or a Cynical and Manipulative one, who ultimately saw herself as looking out for her Grandchildrens interest wheither they liked it or not"

Sighs again "I'm barely a Wilder its so wonderful Im allready acting like a Grump dont you think."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:27, Tue 27 Sept 2016.

Bathsheba smiles, less darkly than before, the words of the pooka actually softening her somewhat. 'I won't lie, power is attractive. I want what is mine, as--I'm sure--do you. But I like to pull up those who stand beside me. This isn't just an Unseelie battle. This is a battle for everyone who wants what they deserve. No fae should die at the hands of cold iron. Such a thing is a travesty--an evil even the evil must deny. The Accordance War has harmed us all. There must be a time for reparations on all sides.'

She nods

"Im so agrieved We seem to disagree here,  Back before the accordance war I would have gleefull gone out left and right killing with Cold Iron, now..." she pauses

"Now I wonder if its really ok... but have decided to do so anyway." She sighs shaking her head

"I Hate what the Seelie Code Preeches, but Deeply respect what it practices"

(OOC: Its good practice speaking in Pooka)

"On the thing about me not feeling the tinyiest bit like a Grandma, not at all, anything to say to that?" asks curiously