We move to the following day.

After their evening in Taroduna, the Court of the Queen of the Black Forest Elves... with whatever details are yet to be filled in... the characters manage to reassemble the next day.

Hylensia is managing breakfast, which involves lots of flat breads with honey.

"Elves do seem to have a sweet tooth," she explains.  "They have so much honey.  They gave us some.  They were quite surprised that we had little ourselves!  Now there's honey for bread, honey to go in tea... "

Argentos has been giving thought to today's performance.  Celeste had predicted it, she knows her father.  Argentos believes that yes, that Fox's over the top hinting about the world outside the Black Forest meant something.

"And since the Queen did not simply banish the creature, and in fact she invited us here... well I have already picked up speculation that there is less disagreement between the two than meets the eye.  But monarchs, even Elven monarchs, are heavily bound in what they can do and say, more so than many think.  She wants the outside world, we shall give it to her, the theme for today is Distant Lands.  That is what we shall celebrate."

Unseen by most, Alayna came sneaking into camp, still the hint of sleep in her young eyes. She made her way carefully to her own place, hoping she could get a bit of sleep before she had to start getting ready. She hoped no one would see her. Or see she was late getting up.

She paused as she smelled the bread and honey. Oh, she loved honey! She wondered if she could abscond with some, taking it back to her wagon.

Tahra woke refreshed to watch the sun rise. She climbed down, took care of her bodily needs and made sure Klimmin was snugged in his pocket nest.

She went to the Argentos with this proposal: I should like at the outset to start the tale of stone soup, furthering it along between performances, I actually want to make the soup, so I'll need a large kettle with fire underneath. Also, I"ll want to go around begging some foodstuffs from this elf an that. I'll also need pails of water.

Nwofia smiled at the sight of so much honey.  "That is a lot of honey," she said.  "If we can find Gesho, we can make Tej".  After a moment or two, she realises that nobody speaks any of the languages of her homeland and for a moment, tears well up and threaten to fall although they do not.  Instead, she dries her eyes and says.  "Mead.  I think you call it mead.  Or if we can find any ice, we can make Honeyjack."

She doesn't translate the word 'Gesho' but instead asks Topaz or a friendly elf or both about bitter plants growing in the area. She talks enthusiastically, explaining patiently how mead is made and then how, if one has access to ice, from the Alps say, it can be cold-distilled by freezing the mead and then filtering out the ice, leaving behind a smooth spirit she calls 'honey baraka' (honeyjack).

Topaz considers his unresolved conversation and walk with Nwofia the night before, then smirks impishly to himself and wags his tail while he thinks about it.  Still, there's breakfast to be had.  He goes to it with all the gusto his folk are famed for.  Certainly he's neither Satyr nor Silen, but a Faun's not really so distantly removed, merely a little more refined from closer interaction with non-Fey.

He's happy to see honey available.  Tasty stuff!  He sniffs at it, then tastes it from the end of a finger, wondering whether it's early or late.  He asks of Nwofia, "It tastes different, you know?  Like if it's from maples or wildflowers or mostly from blackberries, even tastes different depending on where you go, like wine."

The Faun serves himself a bit of bread, cheese, honey, fruit, or whatever else is available, finding himself in a fine mood this morning, then sits back down with Nwofia.  Considering, he asks her, "Ever hear what we're performing today?  I expect you'll have a place front and center, the way the Queen looked at you."

"As for me, I expect I'll be playing something, dancing, singing, magic tricks, telling bawdy jokes, or the like, and most likely juggling geese while I do it," he says with a mischievous smirk.

Deciding she didn't dare stop for the food, no matter how good, she made her way to her wagon. She knew she could grab a bit of sleep. She changed into her bodysuit, so as to give her less time to have to dress, then laid down.

She fell asleep almost immediately, a smile on her face...

Nwofia smiles and nods as she discusses honey with Topaz.  "It's the same with Tej," she says, "Different flavours of honey make for different flavours of Tej or different flavour Baraka.  I find the best is honey from the flowers of the fever tree in season.  It's interesting because bees make honey from the sap of the fever tree as well but it's not as good"

She too enjoys the easy conversation, straying as it does over a multitude of subjects.  When Topaz asks about her performance she says.  "I shall dance of course, but I shall also use the ropes to make the dance fly through the air, walk along slack ropes, and generally free the dance from the ground.  I shall perform as nearly naked as I am allowed and you will not get distracted because I will need the music."

Celeste counts up the performers and realizes they have one missing.  Or at least, not around for breakfast.  Taking a deep breath, she sets out across the troupe campsite, questioning a couple of musicians.

"She went to her wagon.  She looked tired."

Simple, straightforward... the musicians obviously might have provided, but Celeste didn't ask.

She cuts across the camp.  Alayna's horse is there, and looks bored... and a little unkempt.

"Alayna normally pampers you," she says quietly.  "You've been rolling... well that's a horses perogative."

Then she knocks on the door.  "Alayna?  Are you in there?  Did you oversleep?"

**** **** **** **** ****

Phileas has been working on his plan for the day.  He listens intently to Tahra.

But he looks more thoughtful than enthusiastic.

"Stone Soup is a moral tale.  Elven lore has plenty of that.  Not that Elves don't appreciate moral tales but... can we dress it up in some grand exotic style?  Exotic is the goal today.  Take them somewhere far away.


**** **** **** **** ****

From their tree home, Siankiir can see these "entertainers", first Human... mostly... visitors the Black Forest Elves have had in a long time, organizing themselves in the morning.  She might have heard about the strange smells of Human cooking, where they add spices from distant lands.  But... this doesn't smell odd.  Maybe they don't do that for breakfast.

The flock of performers includes a Gnome, she can see that.  No Elves in sight, though.

Alayna sits up with a start. "Oh! I... I... Yes, I guess I did..." she stammers, trying to wake up and falling out of her cot with a thud and an oomph. "I... I will be right there, Celeste. Sorry!"

She crawls to the door and opens it, revealing herself in her bodysuit, her hair a mess, slight circles under her eyes and clearly only half awake. "I... um... Let me take care of Angel, then I'll be ready. Don't worry about me!"

Siankiir eyed the troupe setting up with much interest.  "I wonder what they'll be doing for us tonight?"

Ualiar made no effort to look outside or over at her daughter.  "It doesn't matter.  We will not be watching."

The younger elf felt the tension rise in her shoulders at her mother's dismissal.  Still, Siankiir pressed on.  "The Queen Herself invited them to perform.  It would be impolite not to go!"

"And it would be equally impolite, if not worse, for the Queen to force Her people to attend this circus..." Ualiar uttered that last word with all the disgust that one might give the word "brothel".  Her eyes narrowed sharply as she walked over and shuttered the window, blocking off Siankiir's view to the outside.  "Bawdy dancing and tasteless attempts at jokes, no doubt.  Sleight of hand and parlor conjuration that pretends it's the same as true Magik and fails miserably."

A faint smile crossed the older elf's face, almost as if Ualiar enjoyed ruining any joy her daughter might try to find elsewhere.  Or maybe Ualiar was comparing such entertainment to Siankiir's lack of the arcane. "A frivolous distraction, nothing more."

Siankiir said nothing, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

Then immediately shoved the shutters back open.  Ualiar looked at the girl in shock.  "Mother.  Gods, 'mother'...I doubt you've ever looked at me with love or kindness!  All those years, I never saw you smile at me.  Kiss my brow and hug me.  Everything I do or say is to mirror your whims.  Your wishes, never mine...."

"Now you're being petulant--"

"Shut. Up."  The anger poured out of Siankiir.  It terrified her.  She wanted to slap her mother, to shake her into some sort of emotion rather than constant stony disdain.  But she's not denying it, is she...?  "I'm just a possession to you, not a living being.  You don't respect me.  You certainly don't love me, so why not let me go?  Stop pretending we're a family and get it over with!"

Siankiir paused to take a breath, wildly hoping that maybe, just maybe, Ualiar would start to cry now and say she didn't know, she was sorry, just overwhelmed at being a single parent.

And that she truly did love her.

"Are you proud of yourself?"

Ualiar's tone never changed, that was the most heart-breaking thing.  She stared coldly at Siankiir, fingers flexing slightly at her sides.  Instinctively, Siankiir stepped back, suddenly terrified at what the older elf could do right now.  Instead, the older elf clenched her jaw...

...then stepped aside, shaking her head.  The hateful scowl never left her face.

"You will learn that you know nothing about the world.  You will learn that you are a disappointment.  You will always be a disappointment.  No matter where you go or what you do.  You will crawl back here in the end.  We are blood."

A strangled cry escaped Siankiir's throat as she fled the house.

Not waiting for an answer, Alayna lept immediately into her routine, doing stretches, then exercising Angel, then brushing her, then doing more stretches. She was breathing hard by the time she was done, but still took time to hop on her horse and do a few tumbles and practice her dismount. She was glad to feel good as she landed, and then went to clean up, then head to the cook's wagon to see if there was anything she could quickly eat.

She arrived, her hair still in waves down her back, no makeup and her bodysuit covered with dirt and out of breath. But at least she was feeling ready.

Phileas Argentos paces through the camp.  A showman had to be an entertainer himself, a larger than life master of ceremonies taking the audience on a journey.

This was going to be a special audience.

Black Forest Elves.. Queen.. and Fox.  He toyed with ideas in his head, edited.. discarded.

**************************

Celeste could not help but notice that Alayna looked... off.  She could also not help worrying.  Worrying is what she did.

"If you're feeling ill, though, please let us know.  It won't hurt to hang back for one performance if you must. You do very dangerous stunts and if you're feeling ill you might get hurt."

It occurred to her that the troupe really had no professional healer.  Amateurs, yes.  A bad tumble off a horse could put Alayna on the sidelines a long time.

**************************

Phileas found his musicians eating breakfast.  "We have trumpets, yes?"  he asked them.  Of course they did... but he wanted to hear it confirmed.

"We do, sir, we haven't used them for the last show."

The trumpets really were more "sound effects" than musical instruments.  People couldn't sing over the sound of the horns.  You couldn't hear a lyre or lute over the sound of the horns.  They were used when the show needed "sound of trumpets" for a scene.

"We will start with a trumpet fanfare," Phileas said.  "Loud, brash, something of a lost and distant kingdom.  Think of Nwofia's kingdom."

"I really don't have any idea what their music sounds like," the drummer said.

"No one does except Nwofia.  The Elves don't either.  Invent something."

It usually worked, when Phileas told his performers to do that.  He'd learned that when asked to be creative, artists were more than happy to oblige."

"Have you seen Nwofia?  Today we build the show around her.  Marcos's illusions... I wonder if he can learn the animals of her land.  What's that thing like a camel, with spots like a leopard?"**

"Giraffe?"

"Maybe Marcos can make one.  We have to be careful with Illusion.  The Elves know magic better than we do.  Simply showing them magic won't impress.  Or dragons.  We need things they haven't seen.  At least, not in a long time."

**************************

If Siankiir is traveling in the direction of the troupe's caravan, she will see it, hear it, and smell it.  A dozen or more brightly painted wagons, some having frills, sequins, tassels, flowers... all manner of decoration.  All bright, a stark contrast to the muted forest colors preferred by the Elves.

Even the horses wore bright colors.

The Argentos Travelling Show, like others of its kind, can't afford more than a few servants.  In between shows, the entertainers tend their animals and their wagons, and do the domestic chores.  Breakfast is in the air.  It's not everyone for themselves- on any given day Hylensia organizes a few to cook, and they cook for everyone from the portable kitchen carried by one wagon.

The whole affair, every morning, looks cluttered, busy, confused, and yet organized and purposeful at the same time.

Alayna looked surprised at Celeste's comment, then she quickly shook her head.

"Nay, I am just fine. Just... just running late, is all," she stated, finishing eating. "I have stretched and Angel is ready. I just have to get us changed and made up, then I will be good to go. Promise!"

She looked as sincere as a teenager could, then hurried away before she could be questioned further.

When she got to her wagon, she sat down and sighed. "We have to do our best today, Angel," she told her horse. Angel came close to nuzzle her. "I know, I'm just a little tired, but I'll be good. We'll try harder, that's all. And we'll be amazing. Right?"

Tahra plans to do three entracte betwen changes:

 Short: Youssof
 Short: The Patter of the Shingle
Longer: His love makes me beautiful
This message was last edited by the player at 04:20, Tue 28 July 2020.

On the outskirts of the camp, Siankiir fought down the hot pain throbbing behind her eyes.  The truth she had feared all along had now been spoken out loud by Ualiar.  Not spat rashly in the heat of a family quarrel, but uttered deliberately with a fencer's precision to pierce her very heart.

Her mother did not love her, had never loved her.

Gods, why?!

Siankiir blinked, shaking her head.  Ualiar had called the troupe a "frivolous distraction".  Well, she needed a distraction right now.  The young elf stuck to the edges, hoping to spy anything about what might happen tonight...

Topaz spends his day actually practicing with Nwofia.  He's not normally one to actually rehearse, so long as he's performing along or merely highlighting another musical performer.  Music is life to him, flying to a bird or swimming to a fish.

For the moment, the Faun does not engage the other musicians, but he does not hide their practicing.  "What will your dance speak of then, Nwofia?  Green mountains and a wide valley with a river that spills into at foreign sea? Or maybe this is a story of the Nile through old Aegyptus before Alexander came?"

"Elves, for all their reserve, love passion, Nwofia.  Maybe you could share some of the tears you nearly shed and your joy at a place, if it's not to near to hurt to tell a personal story like that?"

Feeling reassured, Alayna prepared herself for the performance, changing into her costume. Again, she went with a variable of the air sprite, with the white bodysuit (that was almost the same color as her very pale skin), with a light blue dress that seemed to be made of feathers. She gave a slight tint to her hair, making it more blue than green, then used makeup to give a slight blue tint there as well. Her hair was adorned with feathers as well, and while she didn't wear her angel wings, she had a ridge that was on the back of the dress that looked like the nubs of wings. She also wore gloves of white with feathers.

Angel too was in makeup, with the blanket making it look as if the horse had furled wings as well.

She spent as much time as she could, being careful to get every detail perfect. She needed to look perfect so she could be perfect.

Nwofia dances along with Topaz music, beating time with her feet sometimes, to show the rhythm as they work out the tune they will play.  "Oh yes." She says, "A river, but not the Nile.  This river is wide and meanders, teeming with crocodiles and hippopotami, about people who live along a bend in the river.  Of a man who died at the teeth of the Hippopotamus.  Of curses and exile, crossing the wide desert from one forest lush and green where monkeys howl and strange birds sing, to another by majestic mountains where olives and laurels grow and wine and honey flow and then over the Middle Sea to here."

The musicians are attempting to recreate the music of Nwofia's homeland.  They've never heard it.  They have no guidance, nothing to work from.  They're good musicians... but... well, on the bright side, only Nwofia will know how far off the mark they are.

Celeste, meanwhile, has found a scroll, which she presents to her mother.

"Aegyptos is somewhere near Nwofia's land, right?  Look, this scroll shows a river with animals."

"It's an old Aegyptian tale, dear, Phileas used it a few times."

"This must be a hippopotamus.  This looks like a crocodile... very Draconic, actually.. I wonder if... and this thing must be the most dangerous of all, it has spears on its head.  Does it use them to attack?"

"I don't know," Hylensia says.  "It's a shame all we have are drawings.  I wonder what colors they are.  Oh well, we can give it to Marcos, he'll come up with something."

It isn't possible to create a show from scratch in a day.  Phileas has to work with what everyone already knows. It's just a matter of organizing, presenting... a few illusions for scenery... he's counting on the Elves not being sticklers for cultural accuracy.

Back and forth across the camp the showman goes, making mental notes, arranging who and when, polishing and editing the what and how.  Taking his assortment of parts and putting them together for the Elves, crafting a journey into distant lands that... well, they may or may not actually exist, but that's not important.

Elves begin to gather, curious.  Not the royalty of course, they will appear much later.  It's not royal protocol, it's knowing that a show is much more fun to watch when you haven't spent hours watching them put it together.

Tahra, who may be drawn to trouble and woe, has been walking restlessly around the area. She comes upon an elf maiden, blonde, slender, graceful—whose face is a mess.

She sits close by, and a bat peeps our of a pocket. It flits over to the elf, and alights on or near the elf in a position that encourages easy petting of it velvetlike fur.

"Huh?"

The sudden appearance of the bat startled Siankiir.  She blinked, look of confusion now on her face.  The young elf assumed that most bats were nocturnal, but here was one flitting about now -- very close to her.  It didn't appear to be ill or in any pain, but all the same, Siankiir's expression was one of concern now.  Wild animals did not usually approach people and Siankiir would be the first to admit that she showed no sign of druidic blessing.

Still, it was a mystery and it kept her from dwelling on her recent troubles.  She wiped her face quickly, then tentatively held out a finger towards the bat.  "Are you all right, little one?"

The bat crawls forward until its nose touches the finger. Its eyes are on the elf maiden's face.

Escher steps onto the stage, unadorned by any sort of decorations.


I was told to shy away from classical stories, and to shy away from some of the more composed themes.

I will begin simply, because sometimes the simplest lessons are hardest to learn.


Marcos conjures a loaf of bread.
Holding it out he shows it to everyone.

What is the purpose of tradition? I would like to think that it is to allow future generations to enjoy something.

Now that something could be as simple as this loaf of bread. a treat that is only possible because of the traditional recipe used to make it.
But it could also be as complex as the reasons why a certain family encourages their children to do farming or to raise live stock, or my case to study illusion magic. yes I am a child of tradition. but unlike some i don't see tradition as a rod that breaks when we deviate from it, i see it as the rope that we use to anchor ourselves to people, places and things that are important to us. When something important to us begins to fail we can use that rope to reinforce it, or to disconnect from something that could harm us. in my case it was an ancestor who in the wake of a family tragedy took up necromancy to prevent his family from leaving him. the knots in that rope were many and complex. even though that tradition stretched back longer then the records of any book i possess, I chose to sunder those traditions and escape from the legacy i was born into. I still bear the scars of that sundering, but i am proud of the traditions i have made for my self.

Take this loaf of bread, made in a traditional way. The recipe for how to make it is an excellent example of a tradition. This loaf of bread is made with crushed grain, oil from olives, and water drawn from the river.

In its time it was great, but that was because it was the only way it could be done. But after a few short years someone found a way to crush the grain that left fewer pieces of stone mixed in with the grain.

splitting the loaf in to two complete loaves  he holds one up and holds the other up. neither looks like each other. the original is flat and still has large dark specks, while the other is fluffy and large from leavening.

sure there were people that preferred the old way of making bread. The bread made the old way was traditional, and eating it required patience and care to make sure that you did not break a tooth on the rocks in the bread.

Back home, the women of my family once placed a single rock in each of the loaves that are made. To remember the traditions of the past and how we can not see the future clearly unless we know where we have come from. They used the finest milled grains and the purest of filtered water, and only the finest and freshest oils. but they had not forgotten the past. Though sadly the past has forgotten them.

Marcos drops the traditional loaf and it hits the stage like a rock making a loud [whack].

He takes the fresh loaf of bread holds it out.
tradition has purpose and stepping away from it is not something you should do lightly. if you hold it too loosely you will lose it
gesturing to the loaf on the stage.
hold to it too tightly, and the thing you are trying to preserve for future generations becomes crushed, causing this generation to not pass it on to the next. all because they could not enjoy it.
Marcos squashes the loaf of bread into an amorphous lump, before offering the unappetizing ball of bread to someone near by.
Who thinks they would enjoy eating this?

conjuring a ripe melon he holds it gingerly.

take this melon for example, I want to share it with you all, but there is not enough today. Should I hold onto the melon and all it's seeds keeping them bottled up away from the sun. or should i scatter them in a field and let them get some sun and soil and a bit of rain, and hope that they grow into the melon I know them to be. Like the seeds of this melon our traditions are the seeds we place in our children which is the soil from which the next generation will grow. we must care for both the seeds and the soil. because if we don't there wont be a next generation. the surest way to kill off the next generation is to suffocate this one.

Tradition tells us many things and guides our path into the future, but holding too firmly to tradition can leave you vulnerable to new threats, which is what today's story is about. A story about tradition, and how it almost destroyed a civilization, and how something new saved a civilization that learned to adapt without forgetting the past.

with a waive of his hands Escher opens a trap door in the stage and a dais rises holding a large and heavy book. He opens the book to somewhere in the middle.

The story I have for you is of the very first necromancer, the one that existed even before there was a name for it. Long before cruel men used it to do horrible things, before the natural cycle of life and death became about good and evil. there existed a young child that wished to defend his land and his people with something new, something that shed new and unflattering light on traditions, showing flaws in those too ignorant to hear.

But I suppose if I am going to tell you a story about the honored dead, perhaps I should dress the part of a story teller more appropriate to the story.


Marcos pushes his hood back revealing what looks like a skull where his head should be, and it is decorated with colorfull flowers, leaves and ivy.



Marcos continues to speak and the mouth of the skull moves as if it had muscles driving it, but none are visible. the stage begins to roll and shift with tussocks of grass and expand back over 400 ft as old trees vanish and new ones grow in new places making the sage longer and larger. each of the puppets siting lifeless on the edge of the stage, each in turn begins to take on more lifelike features and costumes hinting at station and personality.

My story begins so far back in the histories that only one of my books remember it, for most any creature alive at the time chose not to chronicle what happened because so many swore to bury it.

My story begins in an enclave of druids, as they discuss the education of a young druid.

---

Scene opens on a elder druid appearing to be over 70 years old. The older druid is joined by a young druid who appears around 20 years old. The race of the elder druid seems ambiguous but but somehow familiar its skin is a smooth flawless shade of green, blending in with the foliage with ease a fact that is aided by the elder druid's stature of only 3 ft tall. The younger druid shares none of the verdant pigmentation instead having a pale tanned pigmentation and stands at almost 5 ft tall..

Both druids have long graceful ears that look longer then elven and somehow familiar.

---

You are too impatient, you draw too much from the world. You try to do more then you should and you lose control. When you lose control things can die.

But you said that death is part of the natural cycle. If I draw all the life out of a single weed I can make the plants around it stronger. Why is it wrong to help the farmers when their crops are failing because of weeds?

Because weeds are part of the natural world too. it is not our place to help the farmers with their farms, it is enough that we don't destroy their fields for the destroying the grasses to plant their crops. they don't know their place, if they had their way thy would cut down every tree to make way for their cities and tear up every sacred grove to see if there was metal underneath it. they have no respect for the natural world.

but are not the young races part of the natural world? are they not allowed to feed themselves.

they have no respect for tradition. They were safe in their cave high in the mountains. Why must they want for more, they are too greedy that is why. they insist on perverting nature by destroying trees to build their homes. the trees are sacred and should be left un-touched and unchanged for just like tradition dictates.

Well then why don't we teach them a better way. You have taught me many things, why am i so different then them. why can i be taught and not them?

Because we are immortal, and they are not. There is not nearly enough time to teach them the proper respect. You are being taught because there is some debate about if your tainted bloodline. your father was imprisoned and starved to death for his crimes upon us by mingling our blood with that of the impure.

the young druid pushes up his sleeves to show welts and bruises in various stages of healing.
perhaps the issue is the teacher and not the student.

the last comment from the young druid earns him a savage beating from the elder druid.

the scene fades out.

---

A new scene fades in. the elder druid is sitting on a large fallen tree with many others all looking very formal and somber. Those sitting on the log all look to be the same age but the elder druid stands out as he sits in the center.

before them stands the younger druid looking to be in his late 40s by human standards

Are you going to just ignore the problem? it is at our borders and continues to advance.

It is not our problem, and it is no longer yours either. Those that choose to abandon our traditions brought this on themselves. It is not our responsibility. To clean up their mess.

You speak of this like it is an overturned cart of their produce. But no matter how you minimize the problems, there are still abominations from the lower planes sweeping across the valley. Are you so blindly confident that your traditional practice of waiting will make the problem go away. You can't just cover the eyes of the your and expect that ignorance will keep them from harm. The west Grove is lost to fires that grow large when it takes a life, and do mot respond to magic.

You do not wish to act, but are you forbidding me from stopping this.

i warned you that the young races were playing blindly with things that they did not understand. they needed guidance. but you said tradition kept you from sharing wisdom they have not earned.

we can not give our consent or blessing, we refuse to do so. they must pay for their mistakes. we care not what happens to this stand of trees, or the next. Nature is more then the plants and animals. nature persists and so shall we. If we must move to a new home we will move. in time neither nature nor I will remember this minor grain of sand among the sands of time.

the scene fades out as the young druid walks away disappointed, but at the last second he tilts his head as if making a revelation

Nature is more then the plants and animals.

---

the scene fades back to show a familiar but very old man wearing robes of white. behind him the forest grows wild and pure. in front of him he stands a towering demon with a 15 ft whip made of fire. behind the demon an entire horde of lesser demons.

A mentor once told be many years ago that nature was larger then I thought it was. I have come to realize a great many things are part of nature since those days....

kill him

6 lesser demons rush forward to attack the old man only to be stopped in their tracks less then 2 ft from the old man, unable to move.

did you know that nature is everything. rolling in an endless cycle of life and death.

did you know that you are a part of nature, but if i move you forward in the cycle before it is you time to go the excess energy can be used for other things.
the old man rotates his hands like he is turning a knob, and the 6 demons turn to dust leaving 6 crackling sparks that for a moment have the shape the demons once had. the old man reaches out his hand collecting the energy which he absorbs.
I can use that energy to extend life by rotating the cycle of another creature backwards.
the old man reaches out and rotates another imaginary wheal and the old man un-ages back into the young druid still wearing the white robes.
or i can take the energy and release it as an unrestrained burst of destructive energy to just end a life. Having nature at your fingertips is having life and death at your finger tips.
the old man tosses an seed from a Banyan tree at the towering demon, which immediately takes root burrowing into the demon which nearly instantly turns to compost as its branches spread out sending root leaders into demons extending out for 1/4 mile. in every direction as the grass and vines sprout from nowhere grabbing demons and dragging them under the soil as the entire area turns verdant green and takes on a smell of fresh turned soil.


the scene fades out.

---

when a new one fades in, the young druid looking age 20 again stands confidently before the council that rejected him so handily, none of the council members look to have aged.

silence passes between the council and the young druid for quite some time as the council tries to intimidate the young druid.

you pervert our ways, and mock our traditions, you take life when you should not interfere, to preserve live when you should not interfere. you claim a single grove of trees as a home. you teach the young race of things they have not earned. you teach then how to bend nature to their will so they can expand their cities and farms. you rule over them as a king when they should be dead victims of their ignorance and stupidity.

I teach balance, and that life and death are an ever moving cycle. while you tech nothing because you have no incentive to teach what you known. You collect stones and bones thinking they have value.you are the mighty goblin race but you give nothing back to the world. this young race you speak so ill of, are noble and work to better themselves. they work not for them selves but for the strength of the communities around them. But perhaps it is your immortality that striped you of the need to share your knowledge.

with a waive of his hand the young druid grabs hold of a very large but invisible wheel and begins to try and spin it. A mobius strip appears in the air and begins to stretch  and warp.

the young druid begins to rapidly age as the energy flows to his hands and the wheel begins to spin shattering the mobius strip that seemed to represent the life time of the council.

Now you have a choice teach you knowledge to the young races, or continue to be the goblins you have always been scratching through the wreckage of other's lives always hoarding and never sharing what you have. perhaps eons from now the elves you look down on with such disdain, will in turn look on you with the same disdain. It is your choice on how history remembers you and your legacy.

I do regret that i will not live to see you face your own mortality, for in ending your immortality i have exhausted the entirety of mine and burned my connection to the flow of magic.

it has been 100,000 years since you were last here and in another moment that passes just as quickly you will be forgotten. we will see your precious elves fade just as quickly. I fear we may have to clean up the mess you made by sharing magic with these...elves you call them.

---

Marcos closes the book and all the illusions fade in an instant. Marcos lifts his hood back into place as he begins to speak.

As history has recorded this version of the goblin race, their traditions of non interference and isolation became their undoing, they have long forgotten their own history and no longer possess that which they held back, from those they felt un-worthy.

The tradition of the old teaching the young is important, not just for the young to learn. But also for the old to trust themselves that they have taught the lessons well enough that they can let go of the young, confident that the young will carry on down the right path, to become the old and continue the cycle of teaching the young. So don't hold onto the thing you love the most so tightly that you find that you have lost it, never able to reconnect with it. I hope that each of you finds that they have less ignorance then the ancient goblins.

I would like to close by saying that my version of past events has had some details changed to make the story more impact full.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Tue 04 Aug 2020.

"Are you from these woods, little one?  I don't think you are..."  Despite everything, Siankiir managed a faint smile towards the bat...

...then, ever-so carefully, booped the bat on its nose.

The bat looks up at the elf's face, it seems reproachfully. It flits to the forearm that doesn't have the offending hand. It appears entirely healthy and well-fed.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

Siankiir chewed her bottom lip, chagrined at the bat's reaction.  At least it didn't fly away...

"Apologies, little one.  I didn't mean to offend you..." The elf bowed her head to the bat.  Perhaps a better way would be to approach it as if one would approach a cat.

Siankiir's finger carefully moved again, this time to try to stroke the side of the bat's cheek, just under its ear.

OOC: Not gonna lie...hoping for this ;)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVz8rvIl_vY

The bat relaxes.

Restless, Alayna led Angel around the back, mentally running her routine through her mind. Any distraction she had from her night was gone and she was focused on this being her very best show. No fireworks just her best tricks. She had finally decided not to put her hair up, but secured it with a band in a very very long pony tail, with flowers in it to match Angel's tail.

She could see Marcos' illusions, and smiled. He was such an artist, and she could only admire what she could see.

She paused as she walked the perimeter as she saw Tahra and what looked like an Elf. Clearly, the Elf wasn't there to watch the show. What was he.. no, she... doing? She moved a little closer, keeping Angel calm as she watched the two...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Thu 06 Aug 2020.

Phileas Argentos appears in costume.  He has a role to play, the master of ceremonies.  It's a story character as much as any other- when he tells the Elves he will take them to exotic places he has seen on his travels, most of those who have been with Phileas a while know his travels probably haven't covered half of them.

No one is quite sure what land that costume is supposed to be from.  It's colorful, with a bright orange cape with a fur collar, and there's a lot of glitter.  Most cultures probably don't use so much glitter.

But wherever its from, it must be far and exotic.

Marcos's illusions set the stage and lead things off, getting Elves into their seats and paying attention.  The musicians support him.

Here and there, some of the Elves notice the silver white Fox slinking around.  Vulenk gets a sight of the show here and there, moment by moment, but it doesn't seem to be his main interest.

Phileas has the musicians do a trumpet fanfare, and begins his show- Nwofia will be his centerpiece.

"You're used to people, aren't you, little one?"  Siankiir spoke soothingly, continuing to follow the bat's body language as to where it was safe to pet.  She glanced over towards the wagons.  "Are you a part of the circus?  I bet you have a brave act, little one..."

Nwofia moves her feet as if on sand, beating out a rhythm with her soles as she drove the musicians with her body as a driver drives the horses with his whip.  She is wearing her flimsiest costume, seeming almost naked before the audience, covering only enough to hide what little modesty she has.

As the music swells, she tumbles across the area she has made her stage, flying like some kind of creature of the desert winds.  Heels over head she goes, undulating, a sky serpent made of shadows, a living darkness, lithe but never lewd.  Loving she is, but never lascivious, this kind of love is wholesome and life affirming.

The ropes come next, trailing behind her as she has tails much longer than she is. She adopts the persona of the lizards of the Sand Sea, half fish, half reptile and the rope dances with her, not as a partner but as a part of her.  She clambers up a tree on the edge of the arena, one whose inclusion in the act has of course been requested before hand so that the Queen could agree it.

She dances still, more monkey now than lizard, and though she has no idea whether the elves have any knowledge of monkeys, she hopes her movement conveys something of the monkeys' nature. moves along the thinnest branches with the grace of a desert bird, whirling through sandstorms, then surfing the dunes like a snake.

She ties one end of the rope to one tree and then flies through the end to another, tying the slack rope there and dancing along it, not a tightrope, not tight at all, this is like dancing along a skipping rope in the sky.  She dances as an angel might on the end of a pin, finally, dancing to one end of the rope, untying it and climbing to the other end as she falls through the air.

She unties the other end of the rope and finally launches herself into the heavens, finishing the dance with a triple somersault before landing on her feet to curtsey to the queen, a deep and formal curtsey that ends with her forehead pressed to the floor at her majesty's feet.

Tahra rises, walks so she is seen, and sits by the elf. His name is Klimmin, which means "soft". He is a friend and a comfort, for sometimes even amid a group, one is alone. And a great help too. He watches when I sleep, and predacious bugs discover—too late;that they are bat food.

Topaz makes no performance of his own, rather joining the other musicians in accompanying the performers.  Well the Faun knows that music and dance are the languages of the world, together encompassing all the tales that water and wind, fire and earth, spirit and soul have to tell, whether their stories be magical or mundane.

He signals a percussionist to play as a rising crash on cymbals as Nwofia begins, Apollo rising to stir Zephyrus to motion, then bends his efforts to Nwofia's performance.  He alternates between joining the other musicians and leading them,  weaving melody, counter-melody, harmony and percussion into the spell the other players cast to accentuate the mood of her dancing.  Wild skirls, sudden changes of rhythm and volume, and a fey, ethereal longing of strings hint at the freedom of motion Nwofia embodies.  She is not dancing, the music entreats the audience to believe, but is the endless wind itself, slipping over hot sand.  There are no ropes, only the dancer, lianas and branches of the jungle, and the ever-present desert wind.

Nwofia flies, transforming herself to the creatures of her native land, one of elements mingling and conjoining to always become a new thing.  Nwofia dances life, and transfiguration.  Topaz answers with the sun's passionate lover's kiss on sand and stone, with wind's ephemeral caress of the land and the creatures and forest within it.  When she finishes, landing with acrobatic tumble and deep bow, the Faun cues the same percussionist to end the performance along with her, the sudden brazen crescendo on the cymbal left to fade away with Zephyrus' passing her stillness portrays.

"He is adorable," said Siankiir, before realizing there was another person with her.  She blinked.  Bowing her head with a chagrined expression, she looked at Tahra.  "...I hope I am not disturbing anything.  I -- I did not mean to interrupt..."

Alayna blushed, not coming any closer, as she didn't want Angel to startle the bat. "Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude. I am Alayna, and I have to perform soon. but I heard voices, and I was curious," replied the half elf. Her costume very much dictated that she was going to perform. "I will go, so you can talk."

Klimmin nudged the elf to remind her to keep petting. The human woman smiled. Lady, we're the one interrupting you. As for "disturb", we think you were disturbed already. It drew us. </Blue> (pause) So, here we are, perhaps at your service. What now? I'm Tahra Schwarz by the way.

The attention of hundreds of Elves is on the performers.

Not on one fox scurrying around behind them.

Vulenk comes across Topaz as the Faun finishes up.  "Hail to the musicians!" the Fox says.  "I have not heard anything like that in... quite long.  It's been a while.  How I wish I could join you in your journey!  Alas, there are great demands on me, and promises to keep.  There is a great gift in the freedom to travel, you know.  Such a terrible thing that the Elves, bound by such duties as bind me, cannot enjoy it.  It is the only way to know, to grow, to explore.  We explore, and the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time."

"The Queen knows herself, the older Elves know themselves, but the young ones, who were born past the time when the Black Forest Elves forsake all beyond their well guarded mountains, they have never had the chance.  The dream of what they do not know, their elders do not understand what an awful yoke they place upon them.  I wish I could travel with you.  I know that if I did, and I chanced upon a young Elf who also wished to share your adventure, I would do my best to support that Elf, even risking the ire of her queen, for in the long run, it is best for all of the Elves, even if the do not see it.  You, I, them, we are all creatures of forest and magic, of the land.  We cannot be who we are if we have cut ourselves off from it.  We risk never learning the things we should."

The Human musicians give the Fox puzzled "What the heck is this creature talking about?" looks.

"To think most of the Elves have never even seen the Rhinefalls" the Fox adds.

********************************

As each act is completed there is applause and cheers from Elves.  Hylensia Argentos is with Elven leaders, at times explaining and introducing, answering a lot of questions, as so much of what they are seeing is beyond their cultural knowledge.

Some of it's beyond anyone's cultural knowledge, but Phileas values showmanship over dogged adherence to authenticity.

Hylensia asks about what's ahead, as Phileas will no doubt wish to get moving again, the next morning.

"Baiovari," the Elf queen says.  "Wild and uncivilized Humans, Germanics who have absorbed the remnants of Celts who came before them.  Not a friendly people, and certainly not our friends.  They are full of the wild stories the Huns told them about us."

"Perhaps we can bring them a little understanding, then," Hylensia says.

Alayna, not wanting to leave, looked at the two. "I have to go perform. Please, come see me? It... It will either be my best, or my worst, but I want my friends to see it."

So saying, she led Angel to the front of the wagons... and to the show.

After Nwofia is done, Topaz slips off his tunic, using it to wipe the perspiration from his brow.  He then sits down to rest and take a long drink of wine, mead, or whatever beer is to hand while the acts go through and other musicians take up highlighting the physical performances.  He's mid-swallow when Vulenk "happens" by.

The Faun nods in acknowledgement of the fox's comments about the music, then situation, but doesn't immediately reply.  This, too, he suspects is one of the vulpine provocateur's efforts to pry loose young elves from the safety and sanctity of their forest.  He listens until Vulenk reaches his conclusion, taking the opportunity to finish the remainder of his beverage, only answering afterward.

"I cannot join you in your intrigues, Master Fox.  I am but recently departed from this place and returned to it again as well you know.  It would be a most grave breach of courtesy for one of my own court to counsel one of the Queen's people to go against Her desires or commands.  But shortly ago, I came here as embassy from my own Lady and it would reflect most poorly on relations between the two, now I am returned as Guest," he says.  "Were She to wish to discuss the matter, then I should be obliged to share my counsel would she hear it."

He considers what duty a fox might have, though he suspects Vulenk isn't entirely simply a talking fox.  All Fey have their cynosure, the thing they protect, the place, object, concept, even person to which they are linked.  Though some Elves might have an inkling, it isn't something to be discussed the other folk, even Elves.

With half an ear to the performances outside, the Faun pens a hasty note, then folds and seals it with a mark.  "Deliver it to the Queen unopened, unaltered, and unread, Master Vulenk.  If it is Her Will, then we shall converse on the matter.  Otherwise ... well, the river of the question must find its own course."

Hearing Alayna enter the performance space, Topaz uses a quick seeming to cover himself in fine musicians clothing, though beneath the glamer he remains bare to the skin.  The bard gestures to the other musicians, calling them again to their own duty.  "If you'll just deliver that, Master Fox, and pray excuse us.  The show must go on."

"...I suppose we should see your friend's performance.  She seems quite insistent on needing an audience..."  Siankiir felt very reluctant to stop petting the (very cuddly) Klimmin.  "Would I be permitted to maybe talk to you after your show?  I don't want to distract anyone where I shouldn't be..."

Elven bards were very protective of their rehearsal time and space -- Siankiir wondered (and worried) if it was the same for other humanoid entertainers.

The Elf Queen watches Alayna's performance, and notes that the Irkayo Sathower, the Elf who guided the entertainers here and took a special liking to the talented horse girl, is still around.

"You must be the greatest fan of these performers, among our people," the Queen says.

"I have seen three of their shows," Irkayo admits.  "For our people, I think I hold the record.  I very much wish they will come back this way."

"Human entertainers travel for money," the Queen says.  "Humans enjoy things that are different.  They will pay more money to see something fresh and new.  So the entertainers travel.  They have done so for centuries.  I have seen it before."

"Do you think the Baiovari will let them travel?" Irkayo asks.  "Might an Elf guide help them through?"

"Absolutely not!" the Elf Queen says.  "And it is not only that those who know that land well are few, and needed.  The Baiovari have been fed stories by the Orcs.  They believe we are all immensely rich and sitting on our wealth and magic which we stolen from the world by cunning and mischief.  I would say the opposite would be true, Phileas and Hylensia Argentos would only by burdened by an Elf.  Do not even think of this- you must return to your home."


*****************************************************

Nwofia, and just about everyone, is back for the finale, of course.  Phileas believes in big, colorful, noisy, get them to their feet finales.  For the finale, even Hylensia, who normally is not a performer, has something to do- it's just playing the cymbals on cue, but it's something, and it adds.  Nobody's abilities are wasted.

Phileas concludes the show, with a glittery bow.

"Lords and Ladies of the most remarkable and beautiful Kingdom of the Black Forest, we thank you for the opportunity to show you our skills.  We hope we have touched you in some way."

"Indeed," says the silver white Fox.

Alayna was both relieved and happy. She had managed another nearly perfect show, despite her fatigue. She landed both her backflip on Angel's back as well as the flying dismount, which looked to many as if she momentarily flew. Her glittering silver costume looked wonderful, and letting her hair fly free did not cause problems at all.

Of course, her eyes, when they went to the audience, were on Irkayo, and she winked at him when she circled the ring in a handstand, her hair blending with Angel's. She hid how tired she was when she took her bows, and finished the finale with everyone as Angel stood on her hind legs.

She waited to see if she would be called to the Queen, or to Irkayo. She kept her youthful smile on her face, hiding her fatigue and pulling her very long hair over her shoulder so it would stay out of the way.

The Fox continues his wanderings, even after the show.  He seems to pause by each person in turn, sometimes chatting a little, sometimes offering his cryptic words.  But he moves on, goes on his way.

Looking for something.

And perhaps, in Tahra, he has what he needs.  He senses... something.  And for a few brief moments.. Vulenk puts his aloofness and vague words aside, and says what needs to be said.

"They say Elves are bound more closely to nature than Humans are.  Nature finds voids and fills them.  Clear a patch of forest, and give it enough time and its forest again.  Elves are like that.  The queen worries, there are too few Elves.  But there is too little Elven land.  My theory is, if there is more land, there will be more Elves, just like trees return to the clearing in the forest.  But not just any land.  Some places are more special than others.  The Elves have left the Rhine Falls long ago, but it is a place they need.  They are weakened without it, stronger with it.

"There is a turnoff just outside of an old town, held by the Baiovari.  Iuliomagos.  A great, old oak, with sheets of moss like curtains.  Faerie Fire will reveal the path.  Be very careful when you travel it, it has been unused a long time and the smell of magic calls to many things, but it still leads to the Rhine Falls.  There are some things there an Elf was meant to rediscover.  I would say more, but it would just burden you.  You understand."

"I do hope I am right about this," Vulenk says as he turns away.

**********************************

The queen is still with Hylensia Argentos, and many other Elves.  If Alayna is headed in her direction, she does not make it.  Alayna is intercepted by Irkayo Sathower first.

"That was marvelous," he says.  "I cannot wait to see you perform again... I hope it is soon.  They tell me that great performances among Humans is an occasion for the giving of gifts.  So I have gathered flowers."

He presents her with a large bouquet of wildflowers.  The Black Forest Elves do not have garden grown flowers, but their wild flowers are diverse and impressive, and there's a few in there with a pale blue glow.

"And.. I cannot deny that I am not happy to know that you are going through the land of the Baiovari.  I heard it discussed around the Queen.  They are dangerous people.  Human, but civilization has barely touched them.  They drink heavily and they can be as brutish as Orcs.  If you need to disappear quickly, I have this."

He gives Alayna a small skin flask with a stopper, and explains that it is Potion of Invisibility.

"Just in case, because you know I want to see you again."

Tahra has heard (let's say she heard before hearing the elf maiden's crying). She awaits that maiden's reply.

Nwofia curtseys once more at the end of the show and makes herself available to talk to any of the elves who wish to talk.

Siankiir's expression had been the picture of wonderment during the entirety of the show.  It was like experiencing a whole new world.  But, as it came toward the inevitable end and reality reasserted itself, the young elf felt again the doubt and uncertainty skulk back into her heart.  Siankiir dreaded returning back to her home (if it ever was a home) and to Ualiar's icy hatred of her.

....how could anyone take pleasure in the pain of their own flesh and blood?!

Siankiir saw the tail of the old fox as he departed from Tahra and cocked her head curiously.

Alayna ran to meet Irkayo. Upon seeing the flowers, she gave a girlish squeal of delight and literally threw herself at him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, pull herself up and kissing him soundly. "I love them! Oh, so beautiful! Nobody has given me flowers!"

Fortunately, she was both petite and light, and had strong arms. She held herself there, then lowered herself with a blush. "Um... I thank you, and appreciate the flowers and the compliment. I hope you see many more shows." She took the potion and held it carefully. "I know we shall see each other again. I would not have it any other way. And I promise to be most careful."

She glanced to see if anyone else was watching, but still did not leave him.

Following the performance...

Vulenk pokes around a lot.  He asks questions of everyone.  Just innocent simple questions.  Always different.  As if perhaps from a myriad of tiny little answers, some great secret will emerge.

But it is soon evident that the Fox is doing more.  Vulenk also intercepts and talks to Elves that might stray in the direction of Siankiir, asking yet more questions, telling brief, amusing anecdotes, and guiding them away.  He does this on several occasions. But unless one actually knew where Siankiir was, or of course if one was Siankiir, there'd be no way to notice.

Eventually, he makes an appearance to Siankiir as well.  He offers very short, simple advice.

"There has been no finer opportunity in ages.  Their fears are hardly inappropriate, there are more than enough tales of young women curious to see the world and coming to dreadful ends.  The world is a dangerous place, of course, or what would heroes do?  But the Argentoses are good, and with them you are safe.  They are more experienced and have more resources than they let on.  And there are other kinds of heroes.  The Elves need an emissary, they must be connected to the world, or the world might pass them by and leave them behind and that would be a terrible thing. You can help them.  With every tale and memory you bring home, you will.  Keep yourself hidden from the Argentoses until you are past the bounds of Black Forest Elf territory, do not put them in the position of deciding whether to turn around to take you back, or not."

 ***************************



The company spends its last night here.  It's not worth the effort packing up and moving out on the same day as a major show like that.  Things can be pushed too fast, there is more work involved in getting ready for a show than actually performing it.

Although..

They have discovered that Marcos's Golem friend is of considerable help, there.  Jolo seems remarkably unable to learn new skills (not remarkable at all, as the Gnomish artificers all know) but the one thing it is good at it is really, really good at, and as costumes are very important to performers there is a growing list of "Could Jolo take care of..." requests.

The porcelain doll Golem does not mind.  It seems to enjoy doing work, though it is hard to say exactly one knows this.

***********************

Alayna is light.  This is a good thing.  Irkayo, being an Elf, is not exactly a pillar of solidity, but he's strong enough to not be knocked down.  He staggers just a little, because he was caught off guard.

"Somehow I am not that afraid," he says.  "Hylensia was near the queen the whole show, and they talked about the road ahead for you, how it goes through some dangerous country, but to Hylensia this was not at all disturbing.  Though, not in the way of someone who ignores dangers.   Someone who has confidence.  I understand they have been traveling with their show for many years, so maybe they have learned a few things."

He stops and thinks about what he said.

"Funny... many years.. they couldn't... not by our count of years.  But somehow when Humans tell you their stories, it is almost like they are in a rush to fill their years, and they have just as much life as we do, they just have it faster."

Then he shrugs it off.

"But we still have a last night.  The Argentoses leave in the morning.


We have a new thread:  The Baiovari

"Please, if there's any way to hinder my mother from knowing where I've gone. I fear her trying to stop me or worse..."  Siankiir was afraid to elaborate further to the old fox.  Disobeying the Queen was one thing -- but family was more terrifying.

Vulenk gives Siankiir a nod before scurrying off.  Off.. and then, briefly, back...

"There is a funny little magical doll walking around here," the Fox says.  "It looks like it is managing clothing.  How strange.  Perhaps you can ask it for something different to wear.  If you wish to hide, a good start is for you to not look like you."

And then Vulenk scurries off again... and Siankiir sees neither the Fox, nor her mother.

(Tahra is accompanying Siankiir. [Some PMs])

(joint post)
Earlier...

"I am sorry...it feels so odd, talking to a stranger.  Yet I do not know if any of my people would be willing to listen."  Siankiir sighed.  Klimmin's fur felt like velvet under her finger tip.  She shot a glance back towards her residence.

"I have just realized that my mother never loved or wanted me.  I think she resents being burdened with me -- yet at the same time, she does not want me to leave.  That my unhappiness and failure is some perverse enjoyment to her.  I will never be a mage like her.  The callings of a druid or a priestess have never come to me, nor am I a great hunter.  I am just...there.  In the background forever."

The elf chewed her lip, looking shamed.  "...I probably sound rather silly and selfish to you.  My people are supposed to respect our elders -- but my own mother will never respect me..."

Tahra looks, or seeks to look, the elf maiden in the eyes. "Neither silly nor selfish; quite otherwise. A question, if you don't mind, what about your father?"


"I never knew him.  He left while my mother was pregnant with me." Siankiir flinched suddenly.  "Left the Black Forest entirely.  Perhaps that is why my mother hates me so -- I am the last reminder of him.  Or, my birth was what drove him away?  I know not.  Maybe it is better that I never know.  Maybe he would be just as miserable and spiteful as her if I ever met him."

Siankiir cast her eyes downwards.  She had no far off hopes pinned on her mystery sire somehow being wonderful, waiting for his long-lost daughter.  He had, after all, chosen to leave Ualiar while she was with child -- with her.  As harsh as her mother's attitude was in the end, what sort of man would willingly do that?

Gods, what sort of people are my parents to do this to me?!  Am I supposed to be some sort of punishment?  Or am I the one being punished...?

Tahra nodded. "You're discovering. Would you discover more; do you want to change your situation? As you consider, know this: Despite all, you have grown straight and beautiful. Klimmin, to me; this must be her uninfluenced decision."

The bat gently disengages and flutters over and into his pocket; his eyes peep out, ears up.

"...just -- just what are you asking?"  Even the elves had their tales about bargains too good to be true -- and the cost never revealed until it was too late.  Siankiir wanted to leave the Black Forest, leave her mother desperately enough -- but not at the expense of sticking her head in the noose.  "...please speak plain.  Can I safely leave with you?  Is this something that your group's leader would even allow?  Because yes, I would dearly like to...."

"I don't know about "safely", but you can leave and travel with me...and I'll be traveling with the group.  So...if you have some packing to do, let's get with to it. By the way, what's your name?"

Tahra observes how the elf maiden stands when/if she rises.

"Siankiir."

(OOC: SHE-ahn-keer)

The elf was tall and willow-thin.  The two cutlasses she possessed were peacebonded -- one sheathed at her side, the other strapped to her back.  One never knew when the quiet of the forest would be endangered as the Queen stressed.  She bowed her head to Tahra. "I do not need much."

Tahra bows her head back. "Siankiir, shall we proceed to retrieve the 'not much' you are entitled to take with you?"

*****

As the two of them walked, they passed by the fox with his cryptic words.  Siankiir knew not what to make of them, but sensed that they would have no trouble now in her gathering her belongings.

Especially once she met the little automaton Vulenk mentioned.  Some shyly spoken words and the elf's clothing was now what she hadn't worn that morning.

*****

And Siankiir's mother was, thankfully, not in her residence (though the young elf noted that Ualiar had returned the shutters to their "closed" position).  It took her little time to throw together a pack of Useful Things, not to mention collecting a mithral shirt and a well-made belt.  Siankiir hoped that they wouldn't be needed, but at the very least, she owed Tahra and her troupe now the use of her sword arm should misfortunes rise.

"I am ready."

Somehow, the guilt Siankiir was steeling herself for leaving never came.

The one remaining issue for Siankiir would be hiding, of course, long enough not only to leave the Elven land behind, but to make it impractical to turn around are return her once found.

After all, the Argentoses would hardly want to be accused of kidnapping.

But Siankiir appears to have an accomplice, now. What Tahra can do, and what the Argentoses can do, are very different things.

The concept of Plausible Deniability had not yet entered the world.  At least not officially.

Alayna took her time to kiss her elf long and hard. "I will come back to you, my love. I promise. And I will be careful. When I come back, we'll be together. But... I have to travel and perform. Forgive me?"