The Argentos’s discuss it for a while, as the show closes with the last few acts, and eventually opt for the night departure.

“Alayna should be up front, I think,” Hylensia said, looking over the line of wagons being assembled.

Phileas looked in the direction of the “stunt rider” girl.  “Like we came into town, be just as showy going out?”  Alayna had the role of lead rider entering the town, primarily because she was “showy”.   She made a good first impression.

“She’s a half elf,” Hylensia said

“Of course!  Some of that Elven eyesight!” Phileas replied.

“That, and we are going into Elven territory.  I mean, they are Schwarzwald Elves but they are Elves, of course.”

“Though there’s no telling what that means, Hylensia,” Phileas said.

 The popular rule of thumb for Elves in Europa is to classify them by color- somehow, the colors they are most associated with in their dress and art also seems to work to define their personalities.  The Ardennes Elves are Green, the Savoy Elves White, the Veluwe Elves are Gray, and the Schwarzwald Elves… well they seem comfortable with camouflage patterns.  They have a small culture, reclusive, and for thousands of years isolated by neighbors of various types with whom they never had good relations.  When the neighbors became Orcs, what relations they did have became vicious, and the Schwarzwald Elves have now held their ground after more than a century of warfare with Orcs.

“Not an open and friendly kingdom of Elves, exactly why they need us,” Phileas said.  He called out to Alayna:  “Alayna, you have something of the Elven Sight, do you not?  If we travel at night, would you be comfortable in the front?  I would be there as well, and Og.  Most certainly Og.”

Tahra speaks up. I'll take the rear. Klimmin can flit behind as a sentinel.

"If we're travelling at night", said Nwofia, "I have to confess that I am more than a little useless as a sentinel.  I have to rely on my ears I'm afraid because otherwise, I'm stuk in impenetrable darkness."

Alayna blushed, nodding. "Aye, I have some of the sight, not all but I can see better, I've been told," she replied, walking over. "It would be an honor to assist in this way."

She looked positively giddy to be trusted to do this for the troupe.

"We're not traveling in complete darkness, are we?" Lindon asked.  "We're going to have our lanterns aren't we?"

He really hoped the horses could see better in the dark than he did.

Og casts a few dancing lights that hover a few feet around his head, lighting up the area around him well enough that he is confident to lead the way.


“If anyone else can benefit from a torch I can summon a few more.” He offers to the group, happy that his magic is finally of use.

Raising a hand shyly, Alayna spoke again. "I am not able to see fully in the dark, like my half blood side, but... I can see better in the near dark than most. And I see things that other full bloods might not. So I... I can ride ahead a bit, and you can have your like. And I can see other things. Maybe."

She bit her lip, wondering if she was being too forward.

“No. Absolutely no. It may see you before you see it. Whatever it is. At least they will see us all together and be afraid, but if it sees you all alone ... well, I’m not saying I would not be afraid of you, Alayna, but maybe it is not as wise as I am.”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Tue 27 Aug 2019.

There are whispers and questions among the people of Cambete:  Why are they leaving now?

Now?  People don't travel in the dark, they just don't.

Speculations seems to revolve around the reliable excuse the entertainers have for many a strange thing:  "Performers are weird".  It appears to be the consensus.

Humans don't travel at night because the world, most of it, with the exception of moonlit nights, tends to be very dark.  Traveling in the dark isn't safe- it's not just the monsters, it's all the little things one can miss- the deep rut that can catch a wheel or twist an ankle, for example.  Tonight, the clouds hide the half moon.  Away from the lights of the town it will be very dark.

The Rhine at this point is 150 yards across.  This is a relatively narrow stretch, and it is one of the reasons for the existence of Cambete.  The narrower the river, the easier to bridge, all else being equal.  The bridge of Cambete is a strong old bridge, battered and weathered and mossy in places, but held together by that amazing Roman magic of "concrete", and illuminated by the faded glow of centuries-old magical lanterns on posts.  Beyond the double row of pale amber lights, the far side of the bridge is in utter darkness.

The Argentos's do know a few things about what they might expect, and they have passed this on to their troupe:  Orcs held the strip of land along the river, the Elves stayed in the forested highlands, and raided them.  But the Orcs were relatively few- just enough to remind the local Humans of who was boss.  When the Orcs at Cambete were defeated, many of the Humans there flooded into Cambete to live in the safety and relative comfort of the town.  The Elves were left with the control, but still haven't been seen often along the river.  For all they know the land has been left empty.

Lindon followed the wagon in front of him as he tried to direct his team through the darkness.  The lantern swinging beside him wasn't all that much help as it just threw everything into dancing shadows.  He really hoped they didn't have far to go.

Well aware of Og's warning, Alayna only rode a little ahead. Just enough so the lamplight would give her a bit of a view, and her own native part-blood vision a bit more. She didn't want her horse to trip nor for her to become Orc-bait. A thin cloak covered her even more thin body, and she shivered slightly. But she was proud to lead, even in unknown lands. And she would do so as long as needed.

Tahra rides, half-dozing, trusting to Klimmin, who is having a buffet lunch.

Nwofia lies still in the wagon, half sleeping and half listening except she's not used to sleeping in wagons so pretty soon she is half listening and the other half listening too.

Og continued to cast lights as far as his magic could take them. He prayed. He wasn't sure what he was praying for, either that they would be safe or that the orcs were indeed waiting, so he trusted God would pick one.

They are soon across the bridge, and into the dark wilderness beyond.  Wilderness, but still with a stone road- the Roman paving has held up long after the Empire itself faded away.  But there have been no farms, no villages on the far side in this area for a long time.

With few exceptions among the cast, visibility is almost nil past the limits of lights, and the lights are few.  Behind, the lights of the bridge and the town could as well be stars in the sky, just little spots against the darkness.  And then, one by one, these too vanish.

In the dark everyone stays alert as they plod on.  In the distance, north along the river, they see the silhouette in the sky: a dragon.  It's impossible to make out important details, like "what color is it?"  but it is certainly a dragon, perhaps a mile away.

And then, while the dragon is still flitting in and out of view as its flight seems to zig zag along the river, they come to a fork in the road.  The old roads might not have been maintained in many years, but the markers are stone and long lasting.

One branch leads north, keeping closer to the river (and the dragon.  The other takes a more eastern course, and according to the sign, leads to a place named Aquae Villae.

As the darkness comes, Alayna pulls back. Her dark vision is only part, so she still needs some. And the sight of the dragon makes her both shiver with a thrill and with fright. Oh, to see one close up! But it would eat her, would it not?

At the fork, she pulls her horse back to report to the Family. A water village sounds inviting, but... there is that dragon. And she is curious, as she always is.

Tahra looks around when her hose stops. Nothing seems stirring, though the party has halted. She relaxes again while her hose takes the opportunity to crop some grass.

Nwofia wakes up rubbing her eyes and looks at the darkness around and the silhouette of the dragon. "Ooh a dragon!" she says, then, realising that the wagon has stopped, asks the nearest person, "Where are we?"

The party is in the darkness, somewhere over the bridge on the East bank of the Rhine.

The troupe's owner and manager surveys the situation.

"A Dragon can be a bad omen, or a good omen.  Depending on what sort of Dragon..."

"Which, obviously, none of us would know, here in the dark at such a distance," his wife notes.

Phileas nods thoughtfully.  "True, true, just a flash of Dragon wings in moonlight.  Nothing to be known from that."

He has an old map, curled and wrinkled with lots of notes and corrections scribbled onto it.

"What's north?" Hylensia asks.

"Villages along the Rhine, and Brisiaca.  Brisiaca was under the rule of Orcs until Cambete was liberated.  After that... they have no bridge themselves, so... I don't know.  Just not enough recent information.  And Vilae Aquae... a water village, as our young star notes... well that's just a note on the map.  Nothing more.... but... it is to the east, and the Black Forest Elves are that way.  If we are in the dark, I would rather be headed towards Elves than towards a... an unknown dragon."

"Agreed," Hylensia says.

The Caravan turns east.  The land changes as they go further from the river- it rises, gently and then more steeply.  More and more trees.

They have been traveling for hours, now, and it is well past midnight.  Clearly, they are going to be very tired the next day.  It isn't easy to get any real sleep in a wagon over rough ground.  But the group in front stays alert, and as the trees become more and more dense, they spot an Elven symbol on a large tree in front of them.

Anyone good with the Elven language?

Tahra says Not I. However, we could call out...or sing as we travel. If we come to a clear place, I'm for stopping.

Alayna looks at the symbol. "I know Elvish. As a half-breed, it seemed I should know that as well as your tongue."

She stares at it, trying to read it.

Nwofia shrugs. "No clue, sorry.  The only elves I knew of growing up were Garamantes who are Drow."

Further back in the caravan atop the wagon he was driving, Lindon wondered what the holdup was.  Did they get lost in the dark already?

Alayna can read it, although the style is a little strange for her- the Black Forest Elves are remote even by Elven standards.  It's a simple thing, nothing more than a territorial marker.  It has no words of welcome, just a notice that this is the territory of the Black Forest Elves- the Schwarzwald Elves.

"And yet the name of the village ahead is clearly not Elven," Phileas observes.  "I suppose borders have shifted.  Time being what it is, and all.  Elves, as far as I know, don't set out to conquer."

"They don't expand their numbers quickly," Hylensia says.  "So they never have a need.  They'd rather hold what they have."

"But whatever the case, they have an old Roman... Water-Village.  Well, the answer to that little riddle is ahead, isn't it?  There might be some risk in entering Elven territory at night.  I should take the lead.  But.."  he turns to address everyone before continuing.  "Even if there is some... over reaction.. on somebody's part... we come in peace and only peace.  Don't even look threatening. Unless, you know, monster or something like that."

They begin to move again, tired, in the dark... and in the front, the occasional rustling in nearby trees seems to get more and more real and less like a mere illusion of the dark.  Finally, they can confirm it in the movement of shadows- the group is being watched from above.

Despite herself, Alayna begins to sing softly. It is an old Elvin song she learned as a girl. It is a song of woods and leaves and the warmth of the green. She doesn't know all the words, but she knows the melody, and sings softly, her voice soft but strong, her heart in the song as she rides.

PM

Nwofia rides in silence, her hood pulled over her head, gazing at the road behind while she listens very carefully to everything that goes on around her.

Og snickered. “Don’t even look threatening.” He pulled his jacket’s hood over his mask  and kept his torches floating around the caravan.

To any Elf, the different styles of the different Elven kingdoms are immediately recognizable.

There is a blur of motion, and there is an Elf standing in the path.  It was so fast he might have just teleported there, but for the shaking leaves in his wake.

He speaks in Elven.

"A song like those of the Savoy Elves, yes?  You...they... Savoy Elves are here, from time to time.  I think they find our forest dismal.  But you are not... all... Savoy Elves."

The Elf is clad in a gray cloak with random jagged stripes of dark green and brown.  It's hard to tell anything about his features in the darkness, but he doesn't seem very old.

He switches to Latin, the Common Tongue here.  It's clearly not his native language.

"No, the rest of you are not Elves.  Why are you come?  Why are you in the night?  What are you?  Are there danger?"

Nwofia smiles a white toothed smile and holds her hands palm forward to show that they contain no weapons.  "We are here to entertain you." she says, "And we hope you will enjoy us, but as for why we are travelling at night and yet with no subterfuge... because we hope that you will see us first, before any of the forest's other denizens."

Og rolled his eyes. This time the truth would have been more useful. The elves did not fancy orc, despite how the humans were trying to get along. But to say anything now would only make them all seem foolish.

He cast prestidigitations on the ground in front of her to create blasts of bright green, pink and blue smoke to make Nofia's promises of entertainment even more alluring.

The elf surely had his own magic. But did he have style?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:48, Thu 26 Sept 2019.

Alayna blushed with the Elf's comments. "I am not fully Elf, no, but I know my people," she replied in Elvish.

She shifted on her horse, her legs hanging over one side. "As my friend said, we come to entertain. No one is more nimble on a horse than I," she stated in her accented Latin, leaning to grip her horse's neck, then slipping around it to rest on the other side, her feet touching the ground only long enough to leap. "We travel by night, to arrive by day, good sir," she added, once again sitting on the horse normally.

Tahra is at the back, waiting.

Many of the better traveled, older, wiser elves have been to the diverse, crowded, and busy cities of the world, and they have seen things like this.

But those Elves do not get stuck on midnight road patrol.

This Elf looks baffled.  Especially when Og lets loose.  If a dragon had landed in front of him and started doing card tricks, he would have the same reaction.  The magic he is used to does not involve bright pink smoke, ever.

For a moment, he takes a defensive posture, and then relaxes.

"You are... entertainment?" he asks, trying to recall anything about this.  "You are here... I do not know if you are supposed to be here."

He sounds hesitant and uncertain.  He does what comes naturally:  kicks the problem up the chain of command.

"I am Alio, of the Black Forest," the Elf says, finally deciding what he should do.  "You are not enemy, but you cannot travel freely on our land without the permission of the Elders.  You must camp at the Aquae Villae, but go no further.  It is.. a human place, it would be good for you.  I must report your presence.  Follow me up the path. I have no magic of light for you but... you have come so far without it."

Aquae Villae is not far, but the going in the darkness is very far.  It comes into sight soon, through a gap in the trees.  Nestled in a narrow valley, strangely alone, uncrowded by other buildings pressed against it (which would surely be the case in a Human town) the see the cream colored stone walls in the moonlight.  It is a great bath house built of carved stone.  A curved, vaulted roof rises against the forest backdrop.

Most of the characters would be at least slightly familiar with these.  Once, they were one of the major features of the Empire.  Beautiful places, and when they were fed with underground springs, often with magical or spiritual powers (everyone knows underground springs carry the magic of the Earth!).

Alio explains that the Elves have recently expanded their land here, and so are the new owners of this place, but they are not quite sure about it yet.  Stone walls, however beautifully crafted, are strange to the Black Forest Elves.

Tahra exclaims happily I'd wager a bath will be possible here! A good place, Master Alio!

"Thank you for bringing us to this place Master Alio," says Nwofia, "and thanks in the name of Iment, Blessed be her name, to those to whom you must tell of us for their consideration of our position."

Alayna spoke as carefully in Elvish as she could to their guide. "Thank you for your... courtesy. We appreciate it." She had to fumble a bit, but made it work.

Later, she giggled at the comments. "A bath! Oh Goddess, I would love a bath!"

Alio looks a little surprised at the enthusiasm the travelers have for the building.  He gives it a worried, skeptical look.

"We have streams, springs... this is... well it is warm, they say.  In the winter, even now on cold mornings, you can see the steam rising from the roof.  But I haven't wanted to go in."

Alio explains things hastily:  "Once upon a time" time is different for the Elves.  The older Elves in the Black Fores remember the when this was Elven land, before the Romans came and the Elves drew back away from them.  The Romans came and built this place.  And then, they were gone... centuries, but all within the lifetime of the oldest Elves.  So the Elves retook this forest, and found this place.  But the Black Forest Elves do not take easily to marble floors beneath their feet, even polished and beautiful marble floors.  So they have let it be."

"Only a few of us have dared explore within," Alio concludes.  "But I was not one of them, so there is nothing more I can tell you.  I have brought you here, I cannot tell you not to go in, after all, it is built by your people.  But I would hesitate.  Especially in the middle of the night.  Please stay around here until my people come for you, though.  To prevent any misunderstandings.  We shall be here after dawn, with elders with whom you can discuss entry into our lands."

And with that, he is off, quickly, silently, though looking back a few times out of curiosity.  Once away from the party, into the shadows of the forest, he cannot be seen or heard.

Hylensia Argentos has been listening to the Elf.

"Well this is camp," she says.  "I am exhausted.  Travelling by night... it is not for me.  Maybe I would wish to explore the bathhouse, but I will explore some sleep first."

Alayna bit her lip, then sighed, dreams of a warm bath leaving her. "If they will not sleep there, then neither shall I. If he doest not wish it, then here we sleep. And I am most tired."

Almost in a funk, she pulled the saddle and blanket from her horse, took several moments to brush the horse, then took the blanket and laid beside, her head on the saddle and pulling the blanket over her.

Tahra is in somewhat better shape than others, perhaps, because she had been dozing. She takes care of her mount and then helps others. Finally, she sleeps with Klimmin flitting and feeding nearby.

Nwofia has been sleeping most of the way here so she sits up and looks around, listening to all around and decides it's her time to keep 'watch' or more honestly, to keep listen.

It actually took very little time for the teenager to realize she was being pissy. She sighed, then picked up the blanket and the very small saddle and led her horse to the back of the wagons. She took a decent amount of time to take care of her horse, then made her way quietly to her wagon, truly hoping nobody noticed her snit. She found her bed, then climbed in, falling asleep immedietely.

OOC: Correcting the writer's own snit when the previous post was written.

Og doesn’t sleep. He brews some strong coffee for himself as well as some chewing tobacco to keep the buzz going so he can guard everyone till daylight.

He also thought that elf was a prick for not appreciating their showmanship, but to each his own.

The group encamps...  and sleep comes quickly, as they are tired.  For most of them, at least.
Og chooses to stay up, as guard.

He learns a few things.  First, Alio was not alone.  The Black Forest Elves make it a rule not to post lone guards, and always leave at least one in hiding.  That one never comes out- of course not, that would defeat the whole purpose.  But someone has stayed behind to watch the camp in front of the bath house as Alio has gone off to spread the word.


and then...

morning already?   It is, but barely.  The sky is pale blue above... but there's no sunlight.

Someone protests, pointing out the lack of sun, but you hear Celeste Argentos explaining, "There is a mountain to the east, so the sun is up, just not high enough up, and if important Elves are coming to see who we are, it would be best if we weren't lying around in bedrolls."

She moves along the caravan.

"Come on everyone, it was a long night, but we need to be presentable and make a good impression on whoever is coming for us here.  Impression is part of our job, you know!"

There is steam rising from the roof of the bathhouse.  And... maybe it is some trick by which it has caught a flicker of the hidden (but presumably rising) sun before anyone else, but it does seem like there are lights inside, through the large glass windows flanking the main door.

Alayna came awake reluctantly, despite her being an early riser. She was sore from a whole night of riding and felt icky. She looked around, seeing Celeste. "Can we get a bath first? A girl looks better clean, especially with all this hair!"

But even as she spoke, she looked for her bodysuit and costume. She loved this new job, and wanted to keep it, so she dressed anyway, hoping she could look her best.

Tahra rises and, after doing the necessary where politeness indicates, takes some clothes and heads into the bathhouse. Once there, if there is a place that seems water-inviting, she speaks. God, goddess, guardian, or spirit of this place, I ask Your permission to bathe for the good of my body and the ease of my soul.

Unless there is reason to avoid it, she immerses herself.

Nwofia follows Tahra but she does not pray to the undine, bannik or whatever other sppirit dwells in the bathhouse.  Instead, she prays softly to Inent, asking Her to negotiate on her behalf and only then, does she immerse herself naked into the water, bathing herself quickly before emerging and standing in the heat as she waits until she's dry before dressing again.

Seeing the other women go in, Alayna follows. She gives a very child-like squeal of joy, pulls her clothes off and almost dives into the water, clearly not at all modest. Anyone looking will notice she is quite fit and thin. Her back is criss-crossed with many scars, as if she had been whipped at one point.

"Oh, this is heaven!" she cries out, taking the time to wash her very long silvery hair.

Marcos dismounts his heavy wagon and instead of heading for the baths, he casts a prestidigitation and brushes all the dirt and sweat from his body. then proceeds to half open his wagon and"magic away" all the road dirt from his wagon and puppets. To aid his efforts...

(He snickers that no one asked him earlier during trip out of the last town, the performance back there made sense, because of the whole..."no elven magical trickery"...)

...he waives his hands and casts a minor image illusion of the full stage lights, which light up the area not quite noonday level, but close; and continues cleaning the wagon and props un hindered by pesky shadows.

Marcos' apparent absence was not effected to be malicious or lazy, but he had felt that his presence or skill set would have been a detriment to his fellow performers as they put on the show for the orc patrons.

Marcos does not turn away spontaneous conversations should anyone approach. but there were a large number of joints and seams that needed maintenance and a good lubrication with a bit of bar soap and beeswax.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:52, Tue 22 Oct 2019.

After fully getting clean, and soaking to her heart's content, the teenager climbed out, dried herself as best she could, rung out her long hair, then dressed, gathering her hair over her arm until she could braid it.

"Oh, I can die now. That felt heavenly! Should I ever be rich, I want such a place for my own! I'd never leave it!"

Og helped Escher clean stuff up. Sharing his unspoken sentiments about magic.

“Damn orc.” He muttered now and then.

The adrenaline of a possible attack was still coursing through his veins.

The bath house is in remarkably good condition, considering the Elves don't seem all that interested in it and there doesn't seem to be anyone else living around here.

A little... too nice.  The floors are clean, and polished. The pools (one hot**, and one not hot, in classic Roman style) are full and clean.

But the folded towels on the shelves, that is just too much.  One simply does not find the towels clean and fluffed and folded in an abandoned building.

In their eagerness to have a hot refreshing bath, perhaps the performers overlooked these odd little details.  But once everyone has a chance to relax a little they become more and more obvious.

It is the puppeteer's lights, though, that bring forth a possible answer, as almost immediately, there is a clatter of small feet.   Yes, clatter, like the sound of small solid objects clicking against the tile floor, not soft shoes or feet padding along.  And those feet are on the bottoms of little legs...

They are little creatures... humanoid... perhaps from a distance one might mistake them for the Fey.  But here, at close range, illuminated, they can be clearly seen.  Five of them.
 They have shiny white skin, rigid, and bright clothes.  They seem like porcelain dolls more than anything else, each about two feet tall.

For a few moments they are fascinated by the lights outside.  They stare through the window.

"Oooh."  "Lights".   "Lights are nice."  "It's been a long time."

Then they realize they have... company.

Their expressions seem painted on, no parts of their faces move.  And yet one, a doll representation of a teen aged boy with a fluffy mop of hair, suddenly changes its neutral expression to a smile.

"Are you happy?  Do you need anything?  Do you like it here?" it asks.


**You might say "Geothermal"  or you might say "Magic of the Deep Earth".  Same thing.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:57, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

At first Marcos does not "seem" to notice, but as he continues with the maintenance it is clear that he is taking a reactionary stance. Not wanting to make a sudden change that could be misinterpreted as hostile.

Marcos sets his stuff down and bows with an flourish, and extends his hand in a friendly (thanks for letting me be here kind of way)

My friends call me Marcos

Tahra rises, careless of her nudity, and takes three towels... one to wrap around her, one to wrap around her hair, and the third to dry with. She replies Yes, thank you; but it is time for us to be on our way.

Hands full of damp hair, Alayna didn't get up, but stared for several moments. So that was why everything was so nice! "Why, thank you for all this, truly! I am very happy and love it here! But we must go. Thank you for making it so wonderful!"

She finished her braid, then stood.

Nwofia finally dresses and flashes a bright, white, smile. "Very happy thank you."

The others don't seem to need anything from the little doll like creatures, but Marcos has introduced himself.   They return the courtesy, introducing themselves.  Simple names, all of them... Oli, Tholi, Nelli, Mally...

They are glad everyone seemed to like it.  They seem to take a lot of pride in the bath house.  They apologize to Marcos (and anyone hanging around to listen to them) for the fact that parts of the bath house haven't been properly kept up.

"There were more of us" Oli explains.

"Are" Nelli corrects.

"Well we don't know where they took the others," Oli says.

"That's true but Gili and Quolli and Zoli are here, just too damaged. We must not forget them." Nelli says.  Nelli adds, explaining to the party, "Elves can heal, but not us.  They can heal flesh and blood things, we are... crafted. They cannot help us, they think we are strange.  Perhaps we frighten them."

Another one speaks, maybe it's Tholi?  "Three others were damaged, too, and the Elves took them away.  We thought the Elves would fix them, and bring them back, but they never did."

And then... A few of them have been staring intently at Marcos.  They seem curious.

A look of realization crosses Oli's painted face.  "You are like those who made us." the little creature says.  "Very much like.  I remember."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:10, Thu 31 Oct 2019.

Og was too embarrassed to bathe with the others. Though he did his best to take care of his body, he always made sure people only saw the perfect-non-scarred parts of it. He removed his boots and washed his feet in the cool pool before joining his family in the hot pool, just dipping his toes in, completely clothed.

He respectfully tried not to look at the females, but occasionally gave in to temptation and stole a glance once in awhile.

When the dolls appeared he was at first scared and ready to fight, but the calm reactions from everyone else settled him down.

“Heh. No one is like Escher.” He told the dolls. “I am Og Worman. You seem friendly enough. What are your intentions? Do you need help?”

Alayna quickly knelt down to see the little creatures, her eyes wide with concern. "I am Alayna. How awful! Can I help? I know little of crafting, but I would truly like to help. Or even to find your compatriots!"

She realized her emotions were making her excited and took a breath. "But this place is wonderful. You have outdone anything I have seen in my life. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!"

Tahra dresses and holds the towels out to the keepers. You do your work well. It would do no harm for us to take a look; we might be able to help.

Nwofia smiles at the little creatures, saying nothing but bearing an open expression.

"A few of us are damaged and are here," Oli says.  "In the closet, where we stay.  On their shelves.  When we are damaged and cannot serve, that is what we do.  A few others... the Elves took them.  I don't know what happened then, we never saw them again, and the Elves do not speak to us about it.  I do not think they like us very much.  I do not know why.  But you are friendly to us, they are not."

Speaking of Elves...

Alio said he would bring word to the "higher ups" here, and he has, and he has returned with a few "designated greeters".  By their clothing, they do look at little more important.  Or maybe it is just that they are dressed for meeting strangers, with colors and jewelry, and not in the shades of mottled gray that Alio wears for patrolling at night.

But Alio is still in his patrol clothes and looks a little tired.  He has traveled far, and has returned, while the party slept.  There is a very large gray cat with him, and it too looks tired.  Being a cat, it sees no reason for a formal introduction, and finds a place to sleep.

The Elves, though, four of them, are met by the Argentoses, who figure the party has the odd little caretaker creatures well in hand so they are free to concern themselves with the lords of this land.  Lots of talking is going on, just out of earshot unless anyone wants to wander over.  It doesn't look unfriendly, but Oli, Tholi and company shuffle a bit to the left to keep the party between them and the Elves.

A few of the caretakers are very curious about Esher.  And it rings a bell with a few characters: M. C. Esher is a Gnome.  There are things commonly known about Gnomes.  The Gnomes of Turicum, for example, somehow organize and control the money supply of the world and are said to be responsible for a gold piece being a gold piece everywhere you go.  Some Gnomes, though, are known as Tinker Gnomes.  These make the most remarkable things that many other folk simply don't understand.  Clocks, for example.  If these creatures were in fact manufactured, it would make sense that Tinker Gnomes did it.

Seemingly in aware of the re appearance of the elves. Esher is completely facilitated by the small "porcelain doll gollems"...they are clearly more then that because of the capacity to think and act independently...but Esher does not want to call them animated puppets... even if it is only on his head.

So Esher opens one of his belt pouches and pulls out some waifer thin copper gears. (Spellcraft check to recognize them as spell components) and stated rather matter of factly. I would not call my self  among those capable of making yet. My skills are weak at best. But I am good at fixing and repairs. Show me to your friends and I will see what I can do.

In the back of his mind, Esher has a fleeting thought that there may have be a darker side to the story. But he pushes the thought that these synthetic lifeforms may be slaves, held against thier will. Esher keeps the thought to himself, at least until he has more information. Esher pushed the thought deep, while also lamenting the fact that he often sees the darkest motivation in the most benign things.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:35, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

Nwofia tries her best both to stand between the elves and the mechanical people who seem to fear the elves, but at the same time she is as polite as possible to the elves themselves, greeting them formally and curtseying as drow would expect because she is not entirely sure how elves would wish to be greeted by humans.

Tahra bows her head in greeting and awaits events.

As always, Og was overprotective of his boss and his wife, and sticks close to the Argentos. He doesn’t interrupt anything, but is surely keen in learning more about how the elves and his family can benefit from each other.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

Celeste sees what Og is up to.  At times like this, she observes too- maybe one day she will be running things.

"Sometimes, Elves can be, well, difficult," she whispers to him.  "They aren't bad, not like Orcs... most Orcs.. you know what I mean... but the older Elves have been around so long, and been through so much, they can be defensive and cynical.  They can even be hard headed.  But they won't be mean, not like that."

Indeed, once some initial bluster on the part of the Elves is done with, they seem to quickly settle into the basic questions:  what is the group going to do, when, and where.  The Elves don't have cities like humans do, they live in smaller groups scattered in the forest.  They do have some larger settlements, though, were performances of their own kinds are staged in central clearings.  And of course, there is this.

They will allow the group to pass through their territory, and put on their shows.  But they do not want the group to be too long in any one place.  They do not want to be seen as putting a welcome sign for humans- before you know it, they will be everywhere!

So the Argentos's promise to move along at a good clip, a show or two, then on to the next Elven village.   This is as good a place as any for the first show.  Better than most, actually.  It has baths!

But meanwhile...

If it was possible to bring tears to the eyes of the little doll like creatures, MC has done it... with copper gears.  The sight of them has the creatures gathered around, staring at them.

"I remember the makers, they had things like this."  Tholi says reverently.

MC Esher and the others know that small, delicate parts like his copper gears are not found everwhere.  The average smith could never make them.  A skilled coppersmith, maybe.. but he'd have no idea what to do with them.  Little gears is a Tinker Gnome specialty.

"You are one of them," Oli says.  "Those who are broken... would you?  Can you?"

Esher looks at Oli and says with conviction commonly heard from religious figures.
"I will try, but I am just a conduit for the power of the GearLord. The divine patron that inspired mortal hands to shape all synthetic life, in whatever form it takes. I am not a cleric, but a simple servant of a greater power.

---

Ooc
GearLord is a super obscure lesser deity of steam power, clockwork, and invention.
His holy symbol is 5 interlocking rusted iron cogs. There is no game mechanic benefits I get, only flavor and unique perspective on synthetic lifeforms.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:07, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

Having made her promises to the little creatures, Alayna stood, then carefully made her way outside.

Her hair in braids, her partially pointed ears were evident. Dressed in her skintight clothing, her frame was as well. She stayed back, not meeting the elves, though she wanted to very much. As an orphan girl, they fascinated her. And she hoped that she would be able to perform for them and perhaps meet them.

The little creatures don't know the meaning of certain words, like "synthetic" but resort to their standard routine when confronted with the unknown:  nod and go along with it.

They direct Escher back inside, where they have a "storage closet", this is where they spend their resting time, and it is where their damaged compatriots wait.  They seem to have an extraordinary ability to wait and do absolutely nothing when not working.  But then, in the Gnome's experience, this is absolutely normal for animated creatures.

Talking, and having feelings, and wants and desires... that part is weird.  That goes beyond anything he knows of the tinkers' arts.  But working tirelessly at repetitive tasks, and waiting indefinitely when not working, that is fairly standard.  He knows of several Gnomish wizards who could do that.

There are three of them in "storage" here, one having a detached foot, one having a cracked torso, and one in which the head has become separated from the body.  It is complicated work from the Gnome's point of view because in each case there are minute gears and springs and wires that must be reattached, all in the right places, and then secured with multiple Repair spells.... which, fortuitously, he knows.

Meanwhile, outside, the Elves and Argentoses do their planning.

Phileas explains that he does not intend to hold a show today, as his troupe is quite tired from their overnight run and need a rest.  This is fine with the Elves, they aren't known for getting to things quickly, and they wouldn't want to hear "There's a great show but you have to hurry to get to see it today!".

So, if they hold a show here tommorow, well rested, the Elves affirm that there would be an audience of curious Elves.

They also have a question concerning Esher, though.

"The Gnome seems to be familiar with the Golems.  We are not far from the Gnome lands, we have met them often, and we have nothing against them.  We count them as friends.  Yet, the Gnomes we have met cannot explain these, as..."

The Elf speaking is interrupted by another.  "As these are monsters."

The lead Elf sighs.  "In a way, yes, you see... the semblance of life, of thought, is too close to things we hold to be wrong.  The creation of life is for the gods, not... not parts and magic.  We do not know what to do with these.  One of us, the Sorceress Ankinri, brought a few to her tree for study and repair.  One ran away, and now causes great mischief.  Perhaps they are a danger to us, but we cannot simply destroy them.  Not if they are innocent creatures."

Tahra listens with interest and speaks up. They are machines like waterwheels or ovens...but much more complicated. Magic must have been involved in their creation, for the ones we saw did not falter and become still.

The one that ran away is not performing its functions in the bathhouse—functions we quite enjoyed, so it may have become, let's say, crazy. You've shown admirable restraint. This machine, I"d guess, shoudl be captured. Have you nets?

Esher goes right to work. For a bit, it is almost as if he has five hand to hold parts together as he uses his right, left, prestidigitation to hold tiny delicate pieces, and mage hand as well as greater mage hand.

Through out the entire process he is praying quietly. Then with a touch of magic (repair light & minor damage) the damaged creatures are as good as new.

tiny golden cogs appear and begin to fade where the injured parts were fused back together. Just like healing of organic creatures, there are scars and blemishes. But Esher is proud he was able to minister healing to his God's children.

Alayna made her way to her beautiful horse and began to rub the beast down, half listening to the elves and to others, using her very good hearing. But the teen girl did not get involved.

"Angel, my love. We rest today. Let's take advantage of that, and practice later. These Elves are different than the ones I met, and I fear not so accepting of a half breed. And I do not wish to harm our host's adopting of us. So we shall stay out of sight."

She leaned against the stallion's side and began again to softly sing her mother's song, the elvish delicate on her young lips.

Satisfied that everyone is safe, Og offers Escher his aid as a fellow magician. Having huge hands isn’t a problem when he can move things with his mind.

“So, these dolls, very interesting. We should offer for them to join us. It would make for more than a great act. What do you think, Escher?”

In Response to Og's proposal. Esher thinks and then responds.

They are free willed creatures, so that choice is their's to make. I would love if they join us. But if that is what they want they can choose their path in the world.

Og senses doubt. Perhaps its his own perception, "You say that like you're not so sure. Free willed creatures. Do you feel so free, little man?"

"I don't care", says Nwofia, "Whether they are machines or people, they seem to behave like people and we should treat them as people.  We should indeed invite them to join us but I would prefer first to let Escher speak with the one who ran away to find out whether he is mad, malfunctioning, or just making a choice to do something else.  Obviously that makes a difference both practically and philosophically."

"Demons behave like people, Nwofia. These dolls have no souls, be sure to treat them as such. If they will serve, let them serve. We have so much work to do to keep the show alive as it is. At least they won't be more mouths to feed."

He didn't mean to be so pessimistic, he just didn't see the point in making the dolls comfortable when he didn't sleep so well himself.

Og's careless slip of the tongue was not taken quite as flippantly as Og had said it.

Wow Og I didn't know you could be so ignorant.

Just because you don't understand something does not mean you can just claim it does not exist. That is what Gnashrip was doing. Like him, you sir are wrong too.

You will die of old age, they will live on. Your mind will grow weak with the passing of the years, theirs will only become stronger. Your body will wither, their's will not.
That is the weakness of everything that draws breath, or requires food or water to sustain itselves.

To say that synthetic life is better in more ways than it is not, in my opinion would be an understatement.

But as this is the way I believe, and that is the way you believe. Perhaps it would be best if you kept to yourself.

Og shrugged. When he died he would go on to a better place with a better body. "I don't think you're wrong, little man, agree to disagree, shall we? Religion has never gotten between us before. I suppose we just never had much reason to talk about it.".

Tahra tries to interpose. To me, it seems they were constructed to maintain this place and to serve its patrons. When taken away, they, I think, will act awry. From the evidence, they have a will to continue existing and take a sort of pleasure serving. I've a feeling it's important we do what we can to help them. The waters of this place may think so too. Also, their creator, or creators, may be alive...or documents or goods they left behind may be findable.

The Elves see that perhaps there is an issue going on...

"Are you sure they will be ready?"  One Elf asks of the Argentoses.

"Performers can be... interesting," Hylensia explains.  "But of course.. Celeste, maybe you can see what the fuss is over.  We'll be ready for a show tomorrow".

Celeste Argentos wanders over cautiously, wondering what little tiff has started up now, and why.

She listens in.

"Is this about the little bath keepers?"  she asks.  "I'm sure they were made by Gnomes.. but with some added magic I have never heard of, for them to act the way they do.  But only Gnomes make things.  We can shift our route a bit, and if you think it would shed some light, we can visit them after the Elves.  They're not far, you know.  Back on the other side of the Rhine, but there are other crossings nearer to them.  The Bridge at Temedo, though I don't know who controls it.  But on the south side are the Gnome Lands.  Though... I suspect our little friends will not want to travel.  If they were made for this purpose, taking them away might hurt them.  But I agree that if Escher can fix any of them, he should at least try.  It's the decent thing to do."

Yes, I would agree that they appear purpose build for the takes they are performing.

While I see their situation as slavery, without even the illusion of it being anything else.

I can not like it all day, every day. I can and will believe that all day. But just because I feel one way, does not give me any right to force my opinion on any creature that does not want to change.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. So I can point out a problem, but I am little more then an outside observer in this. Because a month or a year from now I won't be here. I don't have to live with the problems that plague the area. I would love to end all injustice, but despite my very vocal opinion on the topic. I am only seeing a small piece of a larger picture.

Esher ends with the same conviction as he began. But his tone indicates he is open to the possibility of being wrong.

Tahra responds. "As I said, they were created for this purpose; otherwise they would not exist. If justice is each having his due, then what's due them is to maintain this place and, because they desire to know, telling them how well they are doing their tasks.

And it is good, a promoting of justice to fix the broken machines and to recover the ones not present, if possible."

Not involved with the discussions of the little creatures, Alayna made her way over to the Elves, not wanting to interrupt, but curious nontheless. After all, she was part blooded, and would always be curious of that half of her.

"Is everything alright, M'lord?" she asked her boss, oblivious to the conflict at the baths and happy with her own cleanliness for a change.

"Changing times are difficult for Elves," Phileas says to Alayna.  "Who can blame them, though, they've seen so much time, I suppose it must get difficult to keep up with.  Can you imagine the centuries?  To have seen the Empire- Humans- rise to unimaginable power and collapse in a single lifetime.  To have seen Humans go from scattered tribes to so many people... and then scatter again, as the Orcs come, and then regroup again and drive Orcs back.  So much has happened for them.  And yet all this time, they stay in their mountain forests and watch it all swirl around them.  How can that be for them?"

"Not all of them," Hylensia says.  "That's only the oldest of Elves.  Most aren't nearly so ancient.  Young Elves can be much like Humans."

Humans often misunderstand the lives of Elves.  Some Humans assume that since Elves can live for centuries, they must spend decades as children.  This was very much not the case.  Childhood is time for learning, and Elves do not need more than Humans.  They may hold on to youth a few years longer, but as young adults, Elves and Humans are very much the same.  But then, it changes.  While a Human ages and matures over decades, Elves will hold on to "young adult" for a century, and then the prime of their adult lives for a few centuries more, and then spend more centuries still in the golden years of maturity.  Half Elves inherit some of this longevity.  But not like the Elves. This is one reason why Half Elves often leave Elven society- they can see that their rapid aging is painful for their parents to watch.

"Entertaining Elves is very different from Orcs, I think," Phileas says.  "That's what we are here to do.  So... we shall try to appeal to the Elven soul.  Timelessness and nature and all that.  We have some planning to do."

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

Being a Gnome with his characteristics, it is likely that Esher knows of the Gnomish Artificer and what they can do.  More than likely, as he has copper gears that only they make.  Intricate workmanship, and a touch of magic, and the Gnomes can make a Golem of gears and wires that will faithfully execute simple commands.  But to speak like these dolls do?  That's something Esher does not recall.  Great magic, beyond what Gnomes can do.  There is an old Gnomish folk tale he recalls, from the hills of Italia, about a toymaker Gnome named Gipetto who wished his puppet was a living boy he could adopt for a son.  Although the wish came true in the story, it was power from a being far beyond mortal Gnomish understanding... and besides, it was just a story.  No one goes around turning puppets into real live living creatures.

That he knows of, at least.

He looks over his patients.  Each would need time, and his repair skills and magic.  He could fix one a day.  But that means, to get all three, either the group must delay here, or he must bring one or two along for a little while.

Does he wish to start with one today?

Alayna nodded, now understanding many things that she had not known. "To be so old, must be difficult. To one as young as I, it seems like forever just thinking of human lives, not to mention those of Elves."

She nodded to Phileas. "I shall go work on my costume. Perhaps I can finish the wings on it. That might make for an interesting show. Thank you." She smiled shyly, then made her way back to her wagon.

Nwofia considers how best to impress the elves.  The skills she showed the orcs will be of little use, she needs to produce beauty from evanescence.  Perhaps decorating her body and letting the movements of dance in sunlight or moonlight.  Perhaps using her own dark coloration to show that one of her hue and shade can produce beauty.  After all, the elves of whom she is aware, the Garamantes seem much different from these elves, almost as if they were a different species.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:47, Sat 30 Nov 2019.

Ooc: if I need to back off, let me know. Some events in my life have me on a civil liberties mission, but I don't want to take it too far here, if you and the rest of the party don't want to explore that facet of society in as much "depth" as I am pointing suspicious fingers at.

Not hearing the the elves wax self depricitive about being miss understood for living so long...

---

Speaking to the small constructs again.

I have a feeling that if the elves had ill will towards you as living constructs, they would make a point of avoiding where you all live and work.

Speaking of that...why were they not in this village when we arrived? The place seems all but abandoned. With the group of you all tasked to keep the lights on.

Anyway I am walking away from my point. The elves have always been the races least willing to change. They live for so long that they remember how things were when they were young and often chose the old way, which is not always the best way. They are literally one of the only races that live long enough to see multiple generations of humans, as they are born and then die of old age. They are so long lived that thier childish rebellious phase lasts decades, and believe me they know how to be rebellious...how do you think all the half elves exist.
They don't end up stopping thier childish phase till about 100.  Once they do stop acting like children, they go back to doing this as thier parents have always done them. Based on points of view thier parents have.

So once again if they had some malicious intent towards you all, they might be inclined to try and draw some parallel between themselves and the short-lived members of the caravan. In some hope to disingenuously curry an ignorant cooperation from members of the caravan. So that the caravan members are seen as doing the "right thing" in some blind obedience to the will of the elves. Probably use some unique point of view and and how they can act like adults long before they hit thier full childish rebellious decades. I mean it is true elves and humans stop soiling themselves around the same time, and learn to read, write, and speak at the same age. But that is not the same as no longer acting childish. The elves know they will live for over a half dozen centuries, so there is little to no motivation to start acting like an adult before they are forced to. Any one of them that says otherwise is either aberrant, or lieing.

So don't judge them too harshly, they are just elves, despite thier long view of history. You must remember that you will live long enough to see elven life span like the humans see mayflies. Here one day and gone the next. But don't trust anyone blindly, even the kindest and gentlest face can hide the darkest of intentions.

But like my thoughts that you are being kept in slavery, I may be wrong. That is why you must decided for yourselves. Choose the path you want, but remember that dark intentions are eventually met with great violence. So treat others how you wish to be treated, and don't accept treatment from someone, that they would not accept in return.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Sat 30 Nov 2019.

Tahra has joined the discussion group and adds a possibility. I'm less than sure we should do anything that emulates elves. Instead, we could show how it feels to be short-lived but with hope of a fitting after life. And show what how...fulfilling...it is to cooperate with other types, other races—ones inclined toward the Good, anyway.

Nwofia claps in response to Tahra. "Yes, we show them beauty that emerges on the instant rather than the slow accretion of elven works.  We show that the mayfly is as beautiful as the tree."

The Elves leave the group to prepare, but as the troupe begins to plan, they note that some curious watchers are already gathering.  Elves, watching from a distance, making no real effort to remain hidden- it's their territory, after all.

But only a few.  Elves are thinly scattered, not town dwellers.  A few, but a slowly increasing few.  No one is telling anyone "get back to work", either, not even to the young ones watching.  The Elves seem to be taking great interest in this.

After a while, Elves return to talk to the Argentoses.   But these are newly arrived Elves, and they have news:  They already have a travelling performer with them.  He is coming.  Topaz, a Faun, and he has expressed an interest in seeing this interesting show.

Meanwhile...

Celeste helps Alayna get her costume ready.  She has her wings already, she acquired them in Cambete, but hasn't really had time to use them yet.  "They will like you," she says.  "I've met Elves.  Not these Elves, not here at least, but... all Elves appreciate grace and skill.  They are as far from Orcs as you can get, when it comes to that.  They like completely opposite things.  Are you sure these will stay on?  You don't plan on doing any actual flying, do you?  With magic?"

And Meanwhile...

The little doll golems have trouble following much of what Esher says.  They may be capable of thought far beyond the machine like obedience of a typical golem** but they lack any understanding of abstract philosophy.  They pluck out the simple messages "you will live for a long time" and nod along, the hard parts go... to use a bad phrase... right over their heads.

But the last part seems to have an effect.  Treated... Returning...

"We expect you to heal us... we cannot return this, we cannot heal you."

And another one makes a leap of logic.  "We can return service for service.  We can offer you service, because you heal us, it is the return of the treating, how we wish to be treated and how we treat you in return.  Is that right?"

Alyana giggled. "Nay, I plan not to fly," she told Celeste. "Not for real, anyway. The purpose of the wings is to make me appear that I may, either by nimbly moving on horseback, or going to the ground. They just need to be strong enough to say on, not even to spread. Think of a butterfly or moth who is so light, the wind moves them, but they do not need their wings to be such. A costume, no more."

Still, she has a young woman's joy of pretty things, and this is one of the more pretty that she has ever gotten.

Tahra says If it's agreeable, I'm gong to a crone dealing with old age and death.

The Argentos, and their Travelling Show, are no strangers to Topaz.  He's journeyed with them in past, at times alongside, oft along with as a performer himself.  Certainly, he doesn't expect them to appear in Elvish lands.  The Schwarzwälder Elfen are generally quite prickly about allowing other races inside the core of the lands they hold; so much has been yielded over the centuries.  But for acting as an emissary of the minor Fey court of Princess Nia Sian Rosedrake, it's unlikely he'd have been given hospitality he's enjoyed while staying with them.  When word of a troupe of performers arrives, he has to come see for himself.

It's with this in mind that Topaz is pleasantly surprised to find Hylensia and Phileas at their familiar doings, here of all places.  He greets them warmly in his role as a former performer and something of a friend.  He asks after others, former members of the troupe and some of those new he does not recognize.  Everyone is so much younger than he remembers from past iterations of the show!

He regards each person briefly as they're described and named, perhaps their art or skills described.  Should eye contact be made, Topaz nods in acknowledgment and offers some some slight gesture of salutation, punctuates each meeting in a manner making it quite remarkable.

Concluding his reunion with the Argentos, he says in a rich and warm voice, "It's a great pleasure to meet you both again and I'm eager to see who you've brought along.". Afterward, the Faun wanders at apparently loose ends, greeting everyone as if he's never known a stranger all either a friend long lost or a welcome new companion.

Nwofia smiles and nods as she continues to think about what her act will be this time.  Then she has a thought.  "Is anyone able to make ice?" she asks curiously.

Marcos seeing that most of his words, are being lost without understanding. Looks to the small constructs as he is finishing his work.

I am happy I made your lives better

He returns to his waggon and prepared for the upcoming performance.

Setting out scripts for any members of the troop that wished to participate in his performance. A puppet play in five parts telling the story of two humans planning a wedding, and thier 4 day encounter with the fairy court, as they meet king Oberon the king of fairies, and his queen Tatiana.
The magority of it set during some extended dream sequence over a single night of the summer solstice.

He spends an extra hour re-preparing his spells, partially pre casting so in the moment he won't need material or verbal components,

Illusion spells for sets and lightning as well as costumes. Total performance time lasting 3 hours
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Wed 04 Dec 2019.

Nwofia smiles at M C Escher.  "I would love to have a part in your play if I may."

"And I would like to be part of the play as well, if there is a place for me," she tells Marcos. If there is something Alayna loves almost more than riding, it is play acting.

When she sees the newcomer, she is taken aback. She has never seen any such as him, but has heard stories. And as a naive part elf, she is more than aware of what the myths tell. Is this one called Topaz like that? She decides to be friendly, as she always is, and see if she can get to know him before judging him.

those that choose to participate, Esher walks through the preparations and what is needed and how to control their puppets.

preparation takes one hour prior to show (to allow puppeteers to get comfortable with 3 concentration duration spells, and the simultaneous control of each)

script book is rechargeable, single charge, magic items (self crafted)

Major image (controls voice/wardrobe/puppet effects on "environment")
mage hand (to hold the smaller puppet "control cross"; controls face/hands/head rotation
mage hand greater (to hold the larger "control cross"; controls the legs/puppets movement in/around set and environment)

contains detailed images and texture swatches of costumes and cues and clues needed during performance, as well as lines for that character

those not wanting to control puppets can also control set and scene changes, as well as set lighting.

those characters not be puppeteer-ed will be handled as a single illusion (without physical puppets) by Esher.

much of his preparation is generally silent as he is checking and rechecking and mentally preparing and recharging the magic in the script books.

(ooc some of this is (game mechanics) beyond the capability of esher's level, but as puppeteer and an illusionist, I am blurring lines between reality and physical props)

Nwofia frowns and scratches her baldness.  "Oh.  I'm afraid I don't know any magic nor how to use magic items.  Perhaps this is not for me after all.  I do apologise."

Can you concentrate? Because like being handed a bowl of water, all you have to do is keep the water in the bowl.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:05, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

"Well it depends what you mean by concentrate." said Nwofia.  "I don't get distracted by every bird or butterfly but I'm not brilliant at concentrating, no."

"I can concentrate, whatever you need. I have small hands, and can move anything." She giggled. "Puppets are fun. Let me try."

Marco has rehabilitated Willo, who, being fully restored by Gnomish magic, seems eager to follow him around the rest of the day, to help in whatever he is doing.

It is a little problematic because Willo doesn't have many usable skills.  Like the others, Willo was "programmed" to run a bath house, and that is the full extent of the little doll's ambitions.

Willo continuously asks things of Marcus like, "Would you like a warm towel?"

In bits and pieces, Marcus learns a few things about their odd existence.  They do seem strangely between Golem and Living Being.  They have feelings, they can be learn, they can express themselves, all things Golems do not do.  But they seem as focused and tireless as Golems, and like Golems, have no desires or needs other than doing their assigned job.

But one more thing that Marcus finds odd:  They have no memory of the Gnomes that made them other than some very dim vague knowledge: someone like Marcus.  And anyone who knows Gnomes could have guessed that.  But if they were conscious back then, why not?  They do not know why their early years are lost to them.

*****

The Argentos's remember Topaz.  They get around in their life, and they meet a lot of people.  While they don't remember everyone, they certainly will not forget a performing Faun.  Fauns are known for their music, but as they are generally reclusive forest creatures, it isn't often heard by others.  If one is running a traveling troupe of performers, one does not forget such a meeting.  Of course, Topaz is quickly offered an opportunity to travel with the group.

"It is my goal to see how far to the East we can get," Phileas says.  "I want to follow the Danube, and see what we find along the way.  Honestly, east of the Black Forest Elves, I know very little."

****

Elves continue to gather.  They know there is no show today, but they want to watch what happens anyway- some out of friendly curiosity, some with a little suspicion.  They are not used to getting visitors.

Elves are also proud of their skills in various arts, including entertainment, and a few want to perform as well.  The Argentos's tell them that while their talents are appreciated, this kind of show is not an open-to-all informal thing.  Everything presented, song, dance, illusions, puppetry and all kinds of spectacle, is designed around a theme and fits a coherent whole.

"At least it is supposed to," Hylensia explains.  "That is the plan.  But our staff is excellent this year."

"Rules and formality, are they not too binding for artists?" an Elf asks.

"Harmony is part of the art," Phileas says.

He asks one about visiting the Gnomes, next.

"I understand the Gnome Lands are in the Alps, south of the Rhine, and you Elves do visit their often," he says.

"It is true," an Elf explains.  "But we cross the Rhine with light, little boats.  You, with your wagons and animals will need a bridge.  There is one.  It is not always safe.  That region is not well settled.  Once, a terrible hag ruled there, but she was driven out.  Still, though... Neither the Gnomes nor the Humans of Germania will act to guard that bridge.  If you choose to go that way, speak with us before you depart, we will tell you what we know."

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

Hylensia and Phileas address their crew.

"Topaz joining us is very good news!  He is an adept musician, and his styles are unique, built on the traditions of the Fauns, which few ever hear.  Are we planned and rehearsed sufficiently for tomorrow?  Are we rested and ready?"

Tahra reminds the group that the Huns of the Hunnish empire in Gaul have gone east.

She looks over the elves. If one of you is willing, we can perform together...I think four, let's say, incidents. Maybe five. You'll have to pretend I'm attractive.

Nwofia thinks and then says, "I think all I can do is dance.  I would like to do so with Topaz music if that's okay.  Sorry Mr Escher but I do not have the skills to operate your puppets.  A shame but perhaps some other time when I've had a chance to learn."

Topaz is, as the Argentos suggest, a talented musician, conversant in diverse musical styles.  Some could be called exotic, while many are quite familiar.  In either case, the Faun is unabashed in his use of slight enhancing magics to complement performance.  Where one ends and the other begins is perhaps best left to conjecture.  Introduced, he gives a slight bow of thanks to the proprietors for their warm reception.

He watches the others at their performances, considering the merits of each.  After watching M.C. Escher at practice a while, the Faun juggles a few small leather bags for a time.  Topaz is not the singularly most polished of jugglers, but he's clearly quite capable.  He tosses balls in an idle, almost distracted cascade while he watches.  Eventually, he tosses one of the balls over his shoulder, out of sight, only to replace with a cup in the rotation.  "With a small, friendly, and willing audience, it's fun to pluck things from collars, pockets, and such to add to the rotation.  Much harder to accomplish, though, and far more risky.  It's do-able, but best left to the professionals," he says with a smile.

With Tahra, he is uncertain.  She's neither spoken with him nor shown any overt skill, so for the moment he he only considers her.  He's seen those touched with tragedy or strangeness before; she reminds him greatly of those souls.

The Faun regards Alayna, then inclines his head and offers the slightest of impishly suggestive smiles.  He is in no way a skilled scout, far too easily distractable by this or that, but her sidelong glance is all too familiar to him.  Perhaps he is like that, after all.  Perhaps.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss," he says in a mellifluous voice, a rich and warm baritone.


On Nwofia's announcement that she'd prefer to dance, his eyes light and he actually wags his tail in staccato rhythm.  A dancer!

Topaz drops his satchel without ceremony and offers his hand to hers.  He gives the slightest of formal partner's bows in plain invitation.  "Madame!  If I may?  It would be to my great delight."

<edited>
This message was last edited by the player at 16:48, Tue 17 Dec 2019.

Topaz notices that Tahra has a pet bat.

Alayna, aside from her offer for to help with the puppets, offers nothing else. She doubts the Elves can help her part of the show, unless they can ride and maybe do catches and tumbling. She practices enough that they can see her antics, and see she is very very good at what she does. Nimble enough on the ground, she is simply more on her horse. And they compliment each other.

She blushes at Topaz's glances. He is attractive, if a bit odd, and she is young enough to be intrigued. She wonders if music would accent her show, and she goes to him to discuss it. She deliberately wears her snug bodysuit, hugging her fit body, making sure to look her best.

"It seems you are a skilled musician, good sir," she began, trying to not be shy. "If you have seen my show... do you think music could make it better? Or perhaps we could work something... together?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:45, Tue 17 Dec 2019.

In reply to Topaz (msg # 108):

Nwofia begins by dancing along to the rhythm of Topaz' tail but unfortunately, too late, she realises that he is moving his tail in 6/8 time rather than the 5/4 or 4/4 she is more used to.
 She falls over and picks herself up with some embarrassment.  Nevertheless, when, when he asks after the kind of music she would prefer she says, "I know many dances, and am happy to dance with those you know and love, but if you know the music of Afrika or of Cyrenaicia, then I would be overwhelmed with delight."  She curtseys then, a deep dip combined with a bow that that bends her like a wheat stalk in the wind.

Topaz would be the first to admit he's not positive about the significance of Tahra's bat.  He's known others who've kept unusual pets.  Snakes, wolves, owls, and various mustelids have been common.  One old woman even had a large pet toad, enchanted to defend her.  He's still reminded of someone who's experienced far too much tragedy.

---

With Alayna later, he looks her over curiously, then smiles slightly.  The unmistakable scent of equine about her betrays her act.  "You're the vaulter, then, miss?"

He considers thoughtfully before suggesting easily, "Music underlies most everything and you can hear it, if you listen just right.  I've not seen your performance in person, but it would be a simple enough thing to complement it and that of your partner"

He asks, "Perhaps we're asking the wrong question, miss.  Elves are long-lived and have seen many things.  A well-trained horse or skilled rider with music would not surprise them.  The height of your art should delight even someone as jaded as an elf.  You've dancing and tumbling, as well, and can guide your friend with gesture and voice?"

"The Elves love their sublime beauty, even if it brings them sadness in the moment.  Tone key with the old folk is to tell them a story and make them feel.  Before I speak, or play, tell me what story you'd tell someone who's seen a hundred turns of the year, something that could move then to tears in beauty."

He thinks aloud, "Perhaps we're asking the wrong question, anyway.  Elves are long-lived and have seen many things.  A well-trained horse and skilled rider with music would not surprise them.  The height of your art should delight even someone as jaded as an elf.  You've dancing and tumbling, as well, and can guide your friend with gesture and voice?  Dance for them together, mayhap a tale they already know, that lives in their memory but has turned to myth in the common telling?"

The Faun considers the young woman a moment, short tail resuming its earlier flit.  "Perhaps a dance of the coming of night, acting as Nótt and Hrímfaxi?  We're not so far from the Frisian lands so the Elves will have their own version of the tale.  Sing your own tale as you dance, maybe in Germanic?  If you don't speak the tongue, perhaps words aren't required.  Sing your mood and heart to the world, a darkness that comes with your eternal circling of the world and bestowal of the morning dew."

"Then Allfather took Night, and Day her son, and gave to them two horses and two chariots, and sent them up into the heavens, to ride round about the earth every two half-days. Night rides before with the horse named Frosty-Mane, and on each morning he bedews the earth with the foam from his bit. The horse that Day has is called Sheen-Mane, and he illumines all the air and the earth from his mane.  But this is the tale of the passing of day and the coming of his mother," Topaz speaks aloud in Germanic.  "Wherever you go from there, I can follow, miss."


---

Timing.

At first, Topaz is uncertain whether he's been the butt of a prank, a comedic pratfall taken by a talented dancer.  Not to be caught out, he offers a hand and helps Nwofia rise.  He is as genteel as any courtier, formally courteous and gracious.

"Thank you, madame, for your indulgence," he says easily, as if the fall were planned from the outset.

He listens while Nwofia explains her experience before responding, "I know of neither, save as names for places far away.  Dance a dance you know, madame, and I'll follow your lead.  But tell me first what you mean to say when you mean.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:30, Wed 18 Dec 2019.

"Of course", says Nwofia as she begins to move her feet in the steps of the Ahwach, a dance of Numidia.  "The Ahwach is a communal dance of the people of Africa and Numidia," she says, "But I am one alone and I have stolen the steps and mixed them with the Shikat dance of Africa and Libya".

With that said, she raises her arms and moves every part of her in syncopation with the steps of the Ahwach, her ass, her belly, her shoulders and head, her arms, legs and hands all moving together in a highly provocative and yet stylised belly dance.

"The key is unique to Africa or so I believe.".

10:15, Today: Nwofia Barandi rolled 24 using 1d20+9.  perform showmanship.

She begins to ululate, making sound and tune in time with her dance but in a strange key, hoping that Topaz can follow.

Esher continues his preparations for his performance.

While he is grateful for those that volunteered to assist, he understands that every one has skills and not all lie in the same direction. But at times he wondered if some of his companions were aware of how much his skills could augment theirs.

He is greatful for the company of the small golems, and the constant offer of a warm towel brings up a question about the method used to clean and replace the soiled towels.

As limited as the small golems are, he decided to test the limit of thier understanding. Asking them to fetch tools and components from his tool box, just a few ft away.

His intentionally limits certain aspects of his illusions during the preparation for the show, so that his Illusion never dance, sing, or do things better then the troop can do, unless it is done to draw attention to the awesome skills of the troop members.

Admittedly unfamiliar with the words and the languages from which they derive, Topaz watches intently, golden eyes flecked emerald green with the season.  More importantly, he listens, bending to the sound Nwofia's dancing as seedlings quest in search of the sun.

The Faun has travelled broadly, the length and breadth of Gaul, Germania, even to a few of the higher and dryer portions of Hispania.  It's in the rhythms of that last arid land he recognizes a distant cousin of the dances Nwofia blends.  The connection is electric, a moment of enlightenment flashing through him.  This is the music or the Travelling People and other foreigners living in lands not their own, wagon folk in lands of wind, sun, and stone!  Be it from Afrika or Europa, he recognizes its entire family lineage.  He exclaims in surprise and delight, "Oh!"

Topaz upturns a bucket and sits, taking up a rapid percussive rhythm of hoof-on-stone, rapid single taps at first, punctuating Nwofia's steps and turns.  Continuing that cadence, he reaches for his fiddle.  This music, he knows, is constructed of a rapid sequence of notes, syncopation, and triplets, woven through with complex flourishes.

He's not by training a percussionist, but keeping a rhythm for a dancer is like breathing.  Besides following, then setting a rhythm, the Faun explores the dialog between musician and dancer.  He attends sharply to the queues in her motion for a change in tempo, up or down.  This is a dance from a land where fire and sun reign, and that is reflected in his music, whether it be the slowly dying embers of a campfire or a roaring, leaping blaze welcoming the return of the sun on the winter solstice.

Music, and dancing alike, are acts of passion, raw emotion given expression.  He both strokes and strikes his instrument as well as the ground, giving eager little whoops of raw exuberance at crescendos.  His hair falls between his horns and over his eyes as he surrenders to the ecstatic trance of the moment.  He entices anyone standing nearby and watching to to clap or tap the urgent rhythm of the dance, thudding out a rhythm for them to follow before returning to his own joyous embellishment.

So long as she'll dance, Topaz embraces Nwofia in a passionate musical embrace that encircles the Middle Sea, ranging from familiar African rhythms, through styles later generations might know as Gypsy Jazz, Flamenco, Hellenic Wedding tunes, and Klezmer, but always cleaves to it's percussive beginning.  It's only when Nwofia calls for the end that the Faun emerges from beneath the waves of the music.

Topaz absently brushes the hair back from his face, then smiles, somewhere between sheepish embarrassment and impish amusement.  "Will that do?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Wed 18 Dec 2019.

Nwofia grins a white-toothed grin in the obsidian softness of her face.  "That'll do, Topaz, that'll do."

Alayna nodded. She was wearing skin-tight leggings and and a simple tight dress that left her shoulders bare, showing the vine and leaf tattoos that adorned her arms and shoulders. "Angel is very smart, and the two of us function almost as one. She knows my every movement." He could likely tell her love of her horse in her voice.



This was weighty thinking for the young half-breed, and clearly, she had to wrap her mind around it. "My tricks are both of fantasy and the moment. Even someone who is very old, which for me is everyone," she added with a giggle, "Remembers the flash and rush of youth. That is me. Those who know tricks watch me to see if I can truly do what I do, and appreciate, I think, that I am nimble and young enough to try them. Those who are younger often watch me for me, delighting in my movements because they like to see me dressed as such," she noted, indicating what she wore as she talked.



She listened as he told the tale, then smiled. "I don't know if I have enough time to learn the tale... perhaps you tell it? And I shall tumble and turn to accompany it? I can tint Angel in dark, and wear my outfit of black and silver. With my hair, it is very striking. I can learn a few key words, but perhaps I can be but the picture, while you paint the story with words and music." She smiled, happy with the visual she had just created.

Topaz looks Alayna over curiously, tail resuming its rapid wagging.  He shrugs easily.

"You already know the story of night following day, I'm guessing.  Happens every evening.  It's not my story to tell, really, but yours if it's one you choose to tell."

"There are endless tales to be told, miss," he adds.  "Elves to love their magics so.  Not the rude sort of magic, like items and spells, but the special sort that retells a story or myth, perhaps in a new way."

He takes up his seat on the upturned bucket, encouraging Alayna to her art.  A skilled tumbler is one thing, a talented vaulter another yet.  The Faun looks for the artist behind those, the one who loses herself to motion.  Easily, he says, "This isn't my story, miss, it's yours and your companions.  A virtuoso performance doesn't take the breath away from someone a century old before we were born, but passion does.  Tell them why you tumble and turn with your companion, but tell them with the doing itself.  That's what I'd like to see, your passion and you lost to the ecstasy of performing."

Just how old are these little Golems, anyway...
They remember back over two hundred years, to a time when the Empire firmly ruled here.  They know they were older, but is as far back as their clear memories go.

"Isn't it interesting," one says, "that the time we know is the same for all of us.  But I don't think we were made all at once. Are we not great time and effort to create?"

It is a very ungolemly thing for a golem to be considering.  "Where did I come from?" is a question no construct bothers to ask.

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

They work out their routines during the day, having a relaxing day of it anyway after the long overnight trek.  It's a good thing, because the pace has been taxing, and the less constitutionally gifted members of the troupe are already tired.  There are more off notes from the musicians than usual.

Phileas directs the set up of the stage in the clearing in front of the bath house.  There isn't any kind of traditional theater here, although they are common in areas that were once part of the Empire.  This was apparently a spa village, and never had the people to justify such a thing.

It is time for the evening meal and the end of the work day when an Elven messenger arrives.  He has news: Word of this has reached the royalty of the Black Forest Elves.  Elven royal families are not like their human counterparts.  With the oldest Elves having hundreds of years, families often span six, seven, or eight generations.  The "Royal Family" with its descendants can be very large.  Some will be here tomorrow.  If they like what they see, they will let the Queen know, and then the group will be invited to perform for the Queen of the Black Forest Elves, Latheer.

Another thing about Elven royalty... great magic runs in their blood.  Elven Kings and especially Queens are known to be very powerful magic users.  Or so they say.

Phileas inquires about where they would have to go for this.  It would be northeast, through the forest.  He is skeptical.  "We have large wagons, that are not suitable for forests and mountains such as I understand you have in your realm," he says politely.

"There is a road through our lands.  Old, made by Humans, under truce.  We will take you there."

He discusses the matter with the troupe over dinner.

"Performing for the most powerful is generally a thing sought after," he says.  "Even though the Elves are shy and hidden, it will only help our reputation.  So we must earn it tomorrow.  I hope we are ready?  We should make sure we get plenty of rest."

Does Tahra have two elves who agree to perform with her?

Considering everything Topaz had said, and considering how tired she had been, Alayna kept her practice short, and chose to mostly duplicate her previous show. Now that she had landed the flying dismount, and the flying remount, she decided that for the Elves she should simply do her best on things she could do well. She also decided not to wear her new outfit, saving that for the show after. Again, just showing the Elves her 'passion' and skill seemed enough... and best, with her being tired.

She considered having time for another bath before showtime...

They spend the day in practice and preparation, resting, and possibly bathing, with the little golem-dolls being their helpful selves to whoever uses the bathhouse.

The next day is breezy and cloudy, not the best of days for a performance outdoors, but certainly not the worst, as it isn't raining.  The Elves use some magic which gives warms the immediate area, the bathhouse and its surroundings.

A few hundred of them are here, now, gathered in little groups, gossiping and chatting as they await the performance.  The curiosity is evident and everywhere.  The Black Forest Elves have not been very open to outsiders, lately.  Some of them have gone to trade and debate with neighboring Humans, but the contact has been limited, and Human traders haven't often been permitted in.  So a great many Elves, especially younger ones, are intently curious.  They'd be fascinated even if the performances were terrible.

Escher has one of the damaged golems restored, Willo, and there is much hope among the Golems that he will be able to restore the other two damaged Golems.

But they see a problem.

"He has been asked to perform for the queen of the Black Forest Elves," Oli reminds the others.  "It is important.  Like... a command for us.. he will not refuse."

"He can refuse," Lili points out.  "He is not... like us."

Others nod.  Whatever will and spirit the doll-golems have, they do not refuse their commands.  No Gnomish automaton would.

"But he will not," Oli says.  "It is important.  It would cause much trouble for him, for his friends.  That would not be good."

"We should not be a cause for trouble for him," Nelli says.  "For Willo, much is owed."

"Then for the others to be repaired as well, we must find another way," Lili says.

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

Tahra gets the assistance of two young Elves, a brother and sister, both with some performance skills of their own.  Elven dance, mostly.  But they are of adventurous spirit, and curious, and willing to help.

As the hour approaches, the Argentoses supervise the setup and preparations.  Last checks of costume and instruments.  And, of course, the young Elves want to know what it is they are supposed to do.

17:23, Today: Marcos Conner Esher rolled 25. concentration check to maintain the grand illusion.

As the sun is still above the horizon Esher steps onto the stage, lifting his hand and gesturing to the assembled crowds he speaks in a voice amplified by the power of illusion.

Good evening to all, please take your seats wherever is comfortable within the two circles facing outwards.

As his gesture continues he tosses a single gold coin on the ground which "ignites" 2 lines of gold coins as they appear on the ground. One encircles the stage wagon at a distance of 100 ft and another at 400 ft. the outer circle includes arches made of stacked gold coins each placed at equidistant spacing.

After seeing most people moving to within and between the two circles. He gestures to the ground which begins to emit a fog that extends from the ground beginning at the 400 ft line but leaving a tunnel radiating outward from the golden arches, and extending further away by an additional 200 ft through a dense fog shell surrounding the audience.

I am here to tell you the truth, but not any truth you know. But a truth so real you wont believe it is as anything but fiction.

With a gesture the fog begins to change gaining a smoothness of Italian marble. The stage wagon then lights up, and the shell of "marble" fog lights up mirroring the stage but expanded to scales that make Esher who is standing on the stage wagon appear 20 ft tall and the puppets on the stage just as large.

Ladies and Gent, hobos and tramps, cross-eyed mosquitoes and bow-legged ants; I have come before you, to stand behind you, to tell you about something i know nothing about...with out further ado...

The illusion magnified stage bursts to life with colors only possible in illusion, as the play begins, shifting from one of five magnified stages allowing for a seamless story moving from one stare to the next. As an illusion of a 168 part orchestra plays the full orchestral accompaniment score in a floating balcony 30 ft above the central stage wagon.

ACT I

SCENE I. Athens. The palace of THESEUS.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and Attendants

...the play proceeded for a full 5 acts; lasting over an hour and a half. But some how appearing to be the passage of 4 days as simulated days and nights passed within the illusion shell.


PUCK
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

following the performance  conclusion, the illusion fades into simple illusion lights over the stage wagon and each puppeteer is invited out to receive their recognition and applause for their contribution and skill as Esher simply served as a magnifying mirror for their skills.

long after the applause has died the lined of gold coins remain, save but the arches which simply form an unbroken line with the outer line they are part of.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:25, Sat 11 Jan 2020.

[Aplogies for being so slow]

Tahra and the two elves present, for possible approval, a rehearsal of the playlet below:

Act I
Scene 1
Forest glade by a stream. Setting moon, dawning.
Enter elven couple singing of what their life might be should they wed. The bachelor mentions that it would be a new experience, the maid that life would continue more deeply.
They see a something by the stream.
Sun rises and shines on an emaciated mortal woman, long red hair, clad in a robe of deepest red.
The elves wonder at the sight and discuss what to do. They decide to take her to their enclave, nurse her until she is escorted to the border of elven lands.
The bachelor sings about “at last, something new”. The maid about love and mercy.

When the woman’s eyes open, they are brilliant green.

Scene 2
The much-improved convalescent woman walks, regaining her strength, with the elves commenting on the beauty that surrounds them how hard it will be to leave, and how precious the memory will be. The bachelor and maid talk of how elven and human women differ. The maid says the human has her own beauty, but it’s the beauty of a flower., purposeful but short of days The bachelor agrees: Elven women are like yews, slender and evergreen-lovely while this human women is impossible to miss. He is close by her; indeed, she stumbles. He takes hold of her elbow. She thanks him and lays a hand on his arm to remain steady.  The bachelor is startled but then smiles. The maid asks the woman for her name and what happened.

“My name...call me Iunomaga. I was being carried to Death’s destination. An ooportunity presented itself, and I took to my heels. But Death is a persistent pursuer; and, though I had water, no nourishment had I until you rescued me….”

The bachelor listened with fascination while the maid looked on with foreboding, which increased when her beloved now walked on hand in hand with this scarlet woman.

Scene 3

It is night. In total darkness (or behind a screen), the woman sings an ecstatic song passing from cooing through urgencies to an explosion of delight.  The bachelor accompanies her with guttural, rhythmic soundings.

Time passes, the bachelor walks with the pregnant woman, full of life. The maid sings her anguish over  love abandoned.

Act 2

Scene 1
Behind a screen, the woman now cries and groans with childbirth pain. The bachelor hurries out to the maid. “She is in labor. Please, please, help her!”

The maid replies that now he comes to her. But all mothers, of whatever race, are akin in bringing forth life. The maid goes to help.

Her soothing words, and urges to push-push-push are intermingles with the woman’s cries, until there is silence except for two tiny wailings. Silence. A gray vague shape appears and goes behind the screen.  The woman says clearly, “So you show yourself. I am ready, for I have accomplished the needful.
Scene 2
The maid appears with two bundles. “She is dead. Here are your twin daughters.” The bachelor is taken aback. “I’m so sorry for leaving you so. I felt such and attraction, compulsion…. Please forgive me. I loved her while loving you….”

The maid kissed him on the lips. “Hush. What’s done is done is done and should not be undone. We shall raise them. Then they shall have to make their way in the wider world.”

The man takes one of the bundles in one arm; the other embraces the maid. “So it shall be.

On these words the woman appears standing in midair. Her hair gray, her raiment gray, lines of ancient age on her face and hands. However her eyes are still the green of life.

She speaks. “A matter of necessity. Their names are Abeonal and Adional. They shall be alike and yet different. Needful, for they can be, if allowed, a bridge between elves and humans. For the weal of both, let there be peace, respect, and respecting. My thanks and blessing to you both. My, this life is done. Fare you well…” (This last said in diminishing voice as the woman goes back, fading away.)

The couple turn to the audience. “Now this story is ended, but the story of life, and dealing with life, goes on. How will you shape your part in it?”

Elves make for a patient and focused audience.  They do not need constant pandering and spectacle, they understand how things must be seen through to their ends, they try to look for the context and meaning behind each element.

The older Elves, at least.   The younger ones are very much human like.

But the younger Elves seem in short supply.  It is normal, according to those who know Elves.  While Elves can live for centuries, they will not have any more children over their long lives than Humans will, and possibly fewer.  The population, in the long run, is just as stable, though it is slower to recover after a loss.  But it means a far smaller fraction of any Elven population is composed of children.  An Elf child's siblings will likely be young adults.  In a Human population children are everywhere, but the very old are few.  Here, most are well over a century of age, and the children are very few.

It makes for some profound differences in the way Humans and Elves see the world, and how they value things.  Perhaps these differences are greater than those between Humans and Orcs, but in a different direction.

Elves are also less impressed with magic unless it is accompanied by artistic skill.  They are much more exposed to magic than are Humans.  To them, casting a spell is, on its own, no more impressive than plucking the string of a lute.  Lots of people can make noise, making music is something different. They are moved by skill, not power.

Argentos adjusts the flow of his show to the Elven rhythm.  Fewer performers are featured at once; the show is quieter, spot lighting one at a time instead of barraging the audience with sight and sound.   When it is Alayna's turn, it is only Alayna, her horse, and subtle musical and light accompaniment.

The Elves are very much impressed, and the performers find themselves swarmed by new fans, who have all kinds of technical questions- everything from details of spell casting to the sewing of the costumes.

A few want to know what it is like to be travelling so far.  Elves generally do not do this.

Tahra thanks her fellow elven actors and waits for anybody to approach. She now appears as her normal self, costume and makeup gone.

Nwofia finds Topaz and once again, joins him in a dance that would later be Gypsy Jazz except those people do not come from Egypt and neither does the dance.  Nevertheless, it is redolent of travel, of the desert and the red rocks of the Atlas mountains.

Alayna had been careful, doing her very best tricks but taking no chances. As it happened, she still landed every move, though she did a backflip and landed seated rather than standing on her horse's back, which was now starting to ache as she watched the end of the show. Her costume was a favorite, the silvery bodysuit with green leaves woven in, with her hair braided with flowers. Slightly green makeup gave her a dryad-like appearance.

Still in costume and still catching her breath, she walked gingerly out to see if anyone wanted to talk. She hoped the elves would talk to her, but she was not sure.

Elves do have questions for everyone, and the biggest center of attention for the younger ones is Alayna.

There is also something going on with the Argentoses, they are talking to representatives of the Queen.

Rumor escapes from that little clutch, as one of the Elves around Alayna, a young male Elf possibly in his 20's... or 40's... 50's?  It's so hard to tell with Elves... discloses:

"They want you to perform for the queen next," he says.  "She'd like the show you just did.  I could show you the way there, and tell you about her, if you want."

*** *** ***

For the Black Forest Elves, the idea that one can make a living traveling and performing is very interesting.  Older Elves scold the younger ones several times, when the young ones seem to express too much of an interest in that.

"We do not leave our home, it needs us.  We care for it and protect it.  We do not leave it," one mature Elven woman tells two younger Elves.

Tahra and a few of the other more traveled characters know empirically that this is not true.  Black Forest Elves DO leave their home.  Maybe not for long, but they do leave.  At the very least, they go to Cambete and other places to trade.  But maybe the Elf woman was referring to long term departures.  Then again, what is long, for them?

The Elf woman, apparently seeing a potential tactic to discourage adventurous young Elves, asks, "The long roads are dangerous.  Even here in our lands, things must be much worse beyond our forest.  How do you protect yourselves on your journeys?  Has it been difficult?"

Topaz has performed for the Elves before, though not in the context of a formalized program of entertainment.  He joins other musicians in their accompaniment of the performers, playing in manner to highlight their own displays.  Where he can, he joins in a dialog with an individual performer at dance or in song, circling around the work of his fellow musicians in flourishes and trills reminiscent of the highlighted acts.

The Faun plunges into a flowing river where music rolls as water, as magic, as life itself.  This night, he pours forth the story of that river, from it's source, a rivulet drip-drip-dripping from a glacier from spring-time melt high in the Alps.  The faun's music grows, tripping over itself merrily in as it becomes a brook, dropping in sudden cataracts, crashing against stones, and burbling its way through alpine meadows.

The brook joins a stream, the stream a fast river, the river the mighty flowing torrent of the Rhein. At each confluence, the Faun weaves another theme into the warp and weft of the tapestry of sound he coaxes from his fiddle.  Eventually, the Rhein spreads out over the broad plains and splits into a myriad of fingers, dividing and rejoining endlessly until it meets the rolling and gentle breakers of the Frisian Sea.

Throughout the journey from the roof of the world to the shore of the sea, the Faun recounts the secret name of the mighty river, revealed to the listeners as the first drippings of ancient snows from the high glaciers in the pizzicato pluck-pluck-pluck of a string with his little finger.  At the end, he emerges, drenched with the sweat from his exertions, an intimation of the droplets falling to the sea from mountains far away.  He lets the Rhein swirl away into the sea, salt and fresh mingling indistinct each into the other.

He concludes, rising from the same bucket he occupied for his earlier performance with Nwofia.  While it's not his finest work ever, but it'll do for an evening with the Elves.

Later, when Nwofia finds Topaz, he's both happy to play and to dance himself.  Though it is far from his specialty, she may find him as capable at the arts as she herself and he joyously dances to the tunes other musicians play as the evening winds on.

"There's the show, come and gone," he says easily, before adding, "While there's not a tavern, perhaps there's a fire and a small revel.  The Elves have performers of their own and they may come out to play.  We might hear a tale of further up the road."

OOC: 18:40, Today: Topaz rolled 35 using 1d20+21.  Perform (Strings)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:18, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

Alayna was delighted with all the 'young' elves, knowing that she truly was the young one among them. But she told them of her orphanship, her love of her horse, her delight at being adopted and then learning to ride. She did not hold back in telling that her childhood was difficult, and that the world was harsh. But she was now happy and worked every day to be better at what she did.

The young elf that came to see her, the male, was the one that made her blush. He truly was handsome, even if she wasn't sure if was a year or a century older. "I want to perform for the Queen. And I would love to see her... if you will take me," she added coquettishly. After all, she was a teenager, and why not flirt?

Marcos may fool the senses and befuddles the mind with his magic, but lie he does not do. So when asked by the elven elder, he responds honestly not hiding his answers for the curious young elves.

My road has been long, but doing things the right way takes time. My road was hard, but if it were easy it would not have been worth doing.

I have seen more hazards on the road then I have years behind me; and in more then a few of them I have lost friends, heck in one of them I died. But I am still here. My best defense was and still is, not traveling the road alone, and never traveling unprepared for the worst the road has.

The ways of my ancestors, are old and seem outdated, but there is a reason elders have lived to be called old, I have never forgotten that. we all learned lessens; many of which were passed down to them by our elders. The elders may not know everything but never assume we don't know what we are talking about.

the greatest lesson I taught my family, and ended up teaching my self while i was young,...sometimes the very young don't always do as their told.

In my youth my greatest mistakes were the direct result of my ego, and my pride. I am grateful to have survived my mistakes because I made a lot of them, but I learned a lot.

the greatest pearl of wisdom i can give is this...you have time to make mistakes and learn from them, but don't be in so much of a hurry that you make all your mistakes at the same time.

Nwofia undulates shrugs at the question.  "Sometimes it is dangerous to travel", she says, "but sometimes it is more dangerous to stay at home.  I come from the land at the edge of the Desert, to the South of the Middle Sea.  There are no orcs there, but there are lizard people in the desert and humans called the Tuareg and black elves called the Garamantes."

Alayna talks to Elves...

"Then I will lead you to the Queen, by way of our trails... those big enough for your wagons, anyway.  We do not have these things.  They look like traveling houses!"

He introduces himself as Irkayo of the Sathower family.  "A very well respected family here," he says, "but also very large, and easy to get lost in.  There must be two hundred of us.  If you are an orphan and part Elf, it is possible this is your family too.  Many things happened during the wars.  It's been less than two years since the last battles, and like the marmots in winter, we haven't fully stuck our heads up yet to see what the world is like, so I want to hear the tales."

They talk a little while.   Like most of the young Black Forest Elves Irkayo Sathower has no fixed routine in his life.  Often he fishes, it's something he does well, and so he has gone to the shores of the Rhine and looked out across it.  He's been curious about the rest of the world.  The elder Elves, of course, don't like young Elves exploring.  They say they need everyone here to guard the forest, and it's dangerous.

"It can be dangerous, beyond our home," Irkayo says.  "Even on the edges.  The wars have left empty places, and these are soon filled."

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

Other Elves think it is odd to hear Escher describe his fellow Gnomes as old fashioned.

"the Tinker Gnomes old fashioned?" one Elf woman says, sounding shocked.  "How can that be, they are constantly unleashing new things upon the world, so many that it can be overwhelming."

"Not that we have them here," another Elf clarifies.  "Except a few things... the Golems, you have met.  But we hear the stories and there are occassional traders."

"I saw a musical... umm.... a device/." one older Elf says.  "A box that made music like little bells being struck, when you opened the lid.  Strange idea for a magical device.  If people had these things, would the young grow up not wanting to learn to make music of their own?  So many strange things the Gnomes make.  They are mysterious."

It gets later.  The Argentoses have no need to start dinner- the Elves provide food, they think it is part of what they are supposed to do.  Mostly, wild game and fish, and spring greens from the forest.  Bread is rare for them, they have no wheat fields.  But they do have some flat cakes baked from nut flour.

Hylensia reminds people, just because we have it easy this evening do not forget, we must pack up for a journey through forest.

"I wonder what the trail is like," she muses.  "I do hope not too rough for the wagons.  But then, if we are stuck here for repairs, the Elves seem friendly enough."

In the meantime,  Klimmin is flitting, keeping the area bug-free.

Alayna found herself blushing with the attention from the (clearly, in her mind) older Elf. He was cute, as all Elves were, to her, and she couldn't help but wonder. But of course he could be her brother... or half brother... or cousin... or something.

"I would love to see your Sathower family. I truly know nothing of mine. I lived on the streets until I was an older girl, maybe seven or so, and then I was found by a kind woman who took me in before something truly bad happened. She let me live with horses and learn to ride and love them. My horse was raised from a colt. Angel is my love, and my joy."

He would have seen her tattoos, the vine and leaf designs on her shoulders and arms.

"I know other tricks, but I saved them. I am not as practiced, and did not want to slip in front of my own kin."

She nodded with his warnings, and made sure the younger ones heard her. "It is dangerous out there. I know. I am lucky to be here in this troup, with these wonderful people, who do not judge me and accept me."

When all are rested and all is ready, they prepare to depart, guided by the Elves, particularly Irkayo Sathower... though some of his interest in Alayna was taken down a notch or two when he realized just how young she actually is.  When the numbers all clicked in his head there was a sudden, unspoken, but evident "ummmm" moment, and Irkayao casually mentioned that he was 51 years old.

Years tend not to show on Elves.

On most Elves.  It is clear, as they are around Elves, that many do show the effects of time.

"Sometimes it is not the years, but sadness that is brought with them," Irkayo explains.  "Losses can accumulate with time, and that, more than the time itself, weighs on us.  So when you see a wrinkled and gray Elf, it is an Elf who has experienced much loss in life.  Myself, I have been fortunate.  Much better off than some."

The caravan is lined up for the departure.

The Golems appear to bid their goodbye.  This has been an extraordinary time for them, not in many years have they been appreciated and needed and put to work.  And never since they were made has one of them been healed.

They make a last request of Escher:  "Can you bring Jolo or Ino with you, or maybe both, and heal them as well?  They will want to come back, we were made for this place, but until then they will help you as you command them.  It would be better, to know they are with you and serving you, than to have them lying useless in the store room waiting for one like you to come this way again.  We have waited so very long."

After raising the possibility of the elves protecting the Golems, who are beneficial and helpless to protect themselves; Tahra rides at or toward the rear of the caravan. When her pet bat rides on her shoulder, awake; Tahra dozes. when he sleeps upside down in the shelter of her cloak.

Alayna could not hide her disappointment. He didn't look 51 seasons old, and though she would be 17 soon, perhaps... But she could see he just saw her as a child, and it made her almost cry. After all, he was cute. And Elvish. But still. And of course, they could be actually related, which would be awkward.

"I don't care how old you are. You're really nice. And I still want to meet your family. After all, I'm old enough to do this," she stated, indicating her petite form in her bodysuit. "And maybe I am related anyway. But I'm not a child"

So while she assumed she would not get to ride near him on her horse, she still planned to see him. So she spent a short time bathing, then made sure to brush her hair carefully, put the long locks in a ponytail rather than braiding, letting it cascade down her back. She wanted to look her best when they came to the Elven village.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:50, Tue 04 Feb 2020.

Esher is happy to speak with the small constructs again.

I would be happy if they chose to join me. As a gift to all of you, I present the group of you with this golden gear. May it always remind you that you are never alone as long as you work together in harmony with peaceful creatures. The Gearlord watches and care for all of his creations great and small.

this gift is not as effective as some, but with patience it can repair even the most broken things.

(repair minor damage {1 hp} 1/per day use activated [0 lvl spell * caster level 1 * (1 use per day) *2000] 200 gp)
This message was last updated by the player at 01:35, Thu 06 Feb 2020.

Topaz joins in the general activity, preparing to depart.  He has little to pack, himself, so he helps where he can, packing, carrying, or loading.  He's had enough arrivals and departures while travelling with the Argentos in the past to know there's more work to be done than hands to do it.  It's not long before the caravans are packed again, props and sets stowed, dray animals harnessed, the final farewells begun.

While he'd played alongside others, augmenting their own performances, even given his own performance, once the work is done and the troupe gathered to depart Topaz raises his voice unadorned.  Gone is his warm baritone, a voice unsuited to the lament of parting he offers in Sylvan, replaced with a plaintive yet somehow hopeful gravel.  The Faun sings of stories and myth shared, of magics conjured and lost, of companionship shared around a fire at night, and of brief moments of joy and amazement.

But now is the time for leaving, so he sings a tale of the turning of the wheel, sleeping beside the road, of cold morning frost and spring rains, of another performance, another festival, and of meeting again in the mists of distant future, should time and fares allow.

Done, he climbs without a further word onto the nearest wagon and waits for yet another ending to herald another beginning.

Nwofia too has little or nothing to pack but she can't sing either so she makes herself useful wherever she is needed.

Escher has a patient/passenger with him when they depart:  he is joined the Jolo the Golem, who is quiet.. damaged golems are more or less inert.  Even these "intelligent" golems, it is as if losing the ability to perform their function robs them of whatever force empowers them.
But the others reverently load Jolo aboard in the hopes that Escher can repair him.  The others tell Escher that if he can, please return Jolo one day.  Jolo was created as a Towel Fluffer, Incense Mixer, and Back Rubber and like all Golems, the instinct to perform the intended functions is strong.

Which is still a little odd to the Gnome.  The tinker Gnomes build magical animated automatons, yes, but they have instructions, not instincts.  A golem should just do what its supposed to, not feel an instinct to do it.

And that seems to be a big part of the unease the Black Forest Elves feel to these creatures.  Living beings feel, the golems should not, and that bothers Elves.  There is a special providence to the beings of the natural world, one of the Elves tells Tahra, and these Golems violate that, much more than others.

Yes, the Golems will be protected, as they are now: the general protection of the Elves for this ancient human bath house.  But that is all the golems can expect.  Certainly the Elves will not invite them to festivals.

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

One of the benefits of the informal way of life of the Elves is a lack of clear daily schedules.  If an Elf thinks he is going to be carving arrowheads or making baskets one day decides to take the day of and see what's going on with these odd visitors, there's no shame, no implied laziness, no "Get Back To Work!".  It's the main reason Irkayo Sathower is able to shrug off a few days of his normal activity in order to escort the caravan.  A few older Elves do as well- they feel it is necessary to make sure other Elves know the caravan is invited, and not intruders.

Irkayo starts the trek riding near Alayna, telling her stories of the Elves, not just the Black Forest Elves but the others as well, because he thinks possibly she missed out on that heritage.

"Of course you know that there are the Savoy Elves of the Alpine Mountains to the south, and in their way one might think they aspire to be Humans.  They build towers and palaces and wear clothes made of shining white cloth. Lots of clothes, complicated clothes.  If you search within yourself for visions of home, if you see white topped mountains instead of deep green forest, it may be that your family is from the Savoy.  I have met some.  Very educated, and their lives are filled with joy and light.  Some might envy them.. but not those born to the deep forests as I am."

The Elves are masters of the Black Forest in more ways than one.  Centuries of Elven magic has adapted the forest to them and them to the forest.  When they travel with the caravan, the narrow foot trails open in front of them, wide enough for the wagons, and the forest closes back behind them.  It's much easier going than they thought.  Not very fast, because the paths still aren't very level and the wagons must go slowly to avoid damage.

The draft animals like the pace, at least.  They all seem quite relaxed.

Alayna rode with the elder elf, hanging on every word, even as it was clear she was becoming enamored with him. After all, she was a teenager, and he really didn't look that much older than her.

"I truly have no memories, but I suppose I haven't tried. With all you have told me, I might try harder now, knowing what to look for. I just remember being alone, having to protect myself as a child, having to hide and being oh so hungry. I never knew anything of where I came from, and it hurt. Was I abandoned because I was half blood? Didn't they want me? I just never knew."

From that point, she was somewhat quiet, a little sad.

21:06, Today: Marcos Conner Esher rolled 17 using 1d20+10.  arch eng.
20:45, Today: Marcos Conner Esher rolled 22 using 1d20+10.  craft puppet.
21:03, Today: Marcos Conner Esher rolled 7 using 1d8+2. repair light damage CL2

---

Esher had no reference on the construction of a golem, but from a standpoint of damage to limbs Esher looks over the construct. noting specific areas that will need attention.

but he was going to need a guide, during his work and what better guide then Jolo himself.

so with a few arcane words of power and a prayer to the Gearlord that this would work...Esher cast "repair light damage" healing the small construct for 7 hp.

he then checks to see if it has regained the willingness to interact with its surroundings.

The forest parts to allow the passage of the caravan, and closes in behind them, but it seems to do its bare minimum.  The path never opens any wider than it has to, twigs and leaves brush against wagon sides.  When there is any natural meadow, clearing or even a stretch of good, level ground the path opens into it, even if it requires a short detour, as if not willing to waste any energy.

Because it isn’t.

“It is important to us to be part of the forest,” Irkayo says.  “Alayna, I would ask you which part of nature draws you the most, the forest or the mountains, but I think that would tell you only a part of the story, and a part of the story can be more deceptive than no story at all.  When we get to the court of our Queen, there are those with strong spells who can learn of your past.  Perhaps we can talk one of them into looking into your heritage, if you do not know.”

It is at this point when Celeste Argentos, nearby but pressed within hearing range by the closeness of the forest around them, asks a question.

“Mister Sathower, there have been many references by yourself and others to your queen.  It was she that requested us, they said.  But of your king… he did not wish it?  Or do you not have a king?”

Irkayo Sathower sighs.  “We are an old culture here, and we have been isolated and have our own ways of sustaining ourselves.  It is our way to have a queen, but no king.  She takes only consorts, and only temporarily, and always from different families.  Latheer has been our queen two centuries and she has lived seven.  In that time, she has had consorts from at least ten of the families of the Black Forest.  So in this way, she is more a part of our families.  We are more.. interwoven.  More so than a single king and queen would give us.  I hope this arrangement is not disturbing to anyone?  I would advise that if so, say nothing.”



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

Jolo blinks.  The little doll touches his head and neck and leg, where there had been cracks.

“I am repaired”, Jolo says in that very Golem manner of reporting the absolutely obvious.  And then, a little more tentatively.  “Mostly repaired.  I am capable of most function but… where are we?”

Nwofia hears about the reason for the Queen and she smiles the most beautiful smile she has ever smiled before. She finds this a beautiful concept and decides that should she ever settle down, it will be as a queen.

Esher continues to look over JoJo. Lookiy for damage that need more then simple magic to repair.

What is the last thing you remember?
What damaged you so horribly? Because it does not look like a normal lack of routine maintenance.

He had learned from his experience with the others of his kind that they answered best when presented with straight forward inquiry. But just as every creature is different and unique, he hoped to find more then a child's mind within this piece of master craft engineering.

Word filters back to Tahra about the Queen. She replies "Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor."

[William Cowper]

Alayna blushed, thinking of what she liked most. She did know her favorite costume was the wood nymph one, so perhaps?

"I think the woods call to me more. I love these woods too, and I sometimes I feel like I am closer to trees and green than anything else. But perhaps that is because towns and such sometimes hold bad memories for me. But if I could learn more, that would be wonderful. More than wonderful!"

She held her tongue as Celeste Argentos came to ask her question. It made her smile. A woman related to them all as Queen. What a wonderful idea!

Topaz isn't really sure what to make of the tiny Golems Echer's taken on the task of repairing.  He doesn't intrude on what seems to be a deeply personal moment between the Gnome and the tiny creations, but he's quite taken with the amazing artifice that can coax awareness and empathy out of brute matter.

In a later moment, he asks Esher curiously, "They are clever, it seems.  Are they alive?"

---


The Faun's met the Crown of the Ardennes, performed in the court there as a courtier, embassy for Princess Nia Sian Rosedrake, and simply as a talented musician.  Elves are long-lived, perhaps eternal in some cases.  That Latheer would long reign is of little puzzle to him.  There have been many Titanias and Oberons through time, with some returning to the role after a time away from it.  In each and every case, the incumbent gradually becomes the Fey ruler in question, replete with memories and mannerisms of their predecessors.  The Queen's choices are of little surprise or concern for him.


When Nwofia and Alayna, alternately, smile about the Queen and her choice of consorts, Topaz is amused.  He's not positive, exactly, what spurs their smiles, perhaps the thought that a queen rules and selects her consorts.  Maybe they're imagining themselves through the lens of the Elven queen.  The Faun doesn't question the smiles, but does respond to them with his own lopsided grin, perhaps adding the slightest flick of an ear or wag of his tail.

Esher Pauses a bit with Topaz's question, and then begins speaking; not out of any coherent thought out direction but in a rambling we will see where this goes way seeming to paralell a conversation he has been having with himself, as he worked through an internal discussion on the meaning of life and big unanswerable questions.

Being alive is not for me to judge. But the way I see it; to be alive is to be uniquely capable of independent change in response to external stimuli. the stimuli differs from one creature to the next. you could sing and dance for a fish, and there is a chance it would not understand or appreciate it, but it is clear that the elves did.

a tree is alive not because I say it is, but because it responds to water and nutrients in the soil by growing. you are alive not because someone else says you are, you respond to music ans dance, and i am sure a good meal and fine wine. but it is all stimuli and to each you respond differently then any other creature, such is the magnitude of infinite variances to infinite stimuli.

You are alive just the same, I grant that the spectrum of stimuli you respond to is wider then a tree, or a field mouse, or even myself.

regrettably my response to most stimuli is to copy it and reflect it latter, I may manipulate it and twist it to show a new point of view, but i am not a creator of great art. In some ways this tiny construct is more alive then me.

I believe the harder question is to the presence of a soul, this creation though it may be artificial contains within it a consciousness that cares what others think and what others want.
Which is more then some of us have seen from some creatures.

this creature's capability to comprehend, this conversation may not match your or mine. but it has likely not stopped caring if you or I want something from it, or if it can help in some way.

It was not designed for it but I am certain if I asked it to hold a tool it could and would do it because it genuinely wants to help. and if presented with that stimuli I would likely try to assist even if it was not designed in that way for that task.

It cares and wants to be the best it can be, and takes pride in it day to day work. Can you say as much about every man woman and child you have met...or ever heard of?

Because I cant say that I have never lost faith in a single creature. There are days when I cant even say that I live up to half of what i just described this broken creature as being capable of.

...

...

wow I did not mean to dump all of that on you. But since i did...thoughts?

While Esher wends his way circumlocutorily around the idea of whether a Golem is a living thing or not, Topaz listens.  Life is one of those fuzzily-edged things.  "Many things can respond to a prompt.  If one was clever enough, I suppose, one could even make a machine with enough ways of doing and going that it could sense and respond in limited ways.  I'm not sure that would make it alive, though."

"The best thing we could do, I suppose," he adds, "Would just be to ask one of them.  Maybe they've an opinion?"

Hearing the conversation, Tahra offers an opinion. Whether a non-evil animal, machine, person, plant, or tool—or rock for that matter; I suggest one treat it with respect. And the evil ones, with the respect due danger.

Esher listens to the comments made by his companions, and while they give no finite and mesurable answers to big unanswerable questions they seem to be in a general agreement that respect and inclusion should be shown, allowing each creature to self determine for it's self.

looking to Jolo
What do you think, of all this? do you believe that you and your companions are alive?

The Black Forest is very "three dimensional", as forests go.  Up, down, over hills and around them.  The caravan finally settles onto a broad trail in a valley screened by forested hills rising like walls.  Here, the first sign that Elves do build things... at least, beehives.  And there are tended fields, although much smaller than the fields of Humans, and divided by strips of forest.  Then, here and there, almost invisible in the trees, they can see homes.  Small, rounded cabins with walls and roofs of old gray wood, enrobed in moss, almost indistinguishable from the trees they sit in.

Irkayo Sathower may have some doubts over Alayna's youth, but he is a male elf, and reasonably young as Elves go, and much like his human counterparts, "resistance to flirting" is not one of his strengths.

They are going to see the queen.  At least, perform for her.  That's the invitation.  But clearly, Alayna means a more one-on-one meeting.  The Queen of the Black Forest Elves isn't as detached from her subjects as some Human royals might be. She can't be- a large number of them are family, at least through marriage.  He can't be certain, but...

"Of course I will take you to see the Queen," he says boldly, dancing around the issue of what his chances of success actually are.  "And you do not have to worry about the rules.  I have heard Humans are very formal and have all kinds of rules for this.  We... do not.  We are fewer in number, but closer together, rules aren't necessary for us."


They roll along, with Escher talking to Jolo.

It's not easy to read the expressions on the little golems.  The mouths can move, the eyes can move, the rest... well the rest is glossy paint.  Artfully done but incapable of showing any emotion other than a cheery sense of duty.

Is Jolo pondering?  Or staring blankly? Hard to tell.  But after some silent moments Jolo offers an answer.

"Not a question I was made to answer," is Jolo's first response.   Of course not. Jolo was made to answer things like "Do you have scented candles?". This is so far off from that!

And then, after a moment's more pondering.  "I see, I hear, I speak.  I do not eat.  I cannot continue my kind... only a maker like you can do that.  But here I am.  What is life?"

When she hears Irkayo Sathower say "...rules aren't necessary for us.", she rolls her eyes.

Esher looks pleased with himself, while also more confused then before.

I could read into that and make all sorts of assumptions that would likely be wrong. So i think that if I cant answer those same questions about myself, I should not pause before I assume implied meaning. I think that recognition of ones limits is a lesson i have not yet learned so in that, Jolo you surpass me in the understanding of one's self.

for now I say rest, because it feels like the wagons are circling and stopping  it is time to set up for an extra special performance.

Esher waives his hands a bit to renew the illusions comprising his costume, make up, and various personal illusion adornments. He ensures the stitching is just so. With missed stitches and frayed threads and amateurish miss aligned patterns. something that to the keen eye, and intelligent mind would stand out as intentional. because a perfect garment is easy but intentional flaws show attention to the detail that went into such a flaw.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 23:09, Thu 27 Feb 2020.

She looked at him under lowered lashes, trying not to be obvious. She was underage, but aware she was pretty.

"I am so grateful to you, to take me to the Queen," she replied, trying to sound seductive, but failing as she really didn't know how to do it. "But I just want to mind my other family. And I am so very grateful. Thank you for trying."

She giggled, much more her age. "And I never worry about rules. So worry no so much of me. Whatever you can do, is much more than I deserve."

Nwofia is somewhat shocked at the thought that humans are particularly fond of rules, but she says nothing.  Instead, she continues to look around her, learning what she can of her surroundings.

They pass small fields and beehives and more scattered Elven homes.  No sign of anything like a town or even a village, just homes, sometimes a cluster of them, at random intervals along the way.

Phileas, curious about the route, calls on Irkayo, who is, after all, the guide.  The Elf sighs.  "Duty calls," he says to Alayna.

"How much further is it?" Phileas asks.

"An Elf can cover it in a day's travel," Irkayo says, in a way that quite clearly implies "but you can't.".

"An Elf is swifter than our wagons," Phileas says, understanding.  "So we will have to camp along the trail for the night.  Are there settlements along this way, between here and your court?"

"There is, a place we call Rutti.  A rolling meadow, embraced by the hills all around.  It would be a good place to stop- after Rutti we must cross over a ridge.  It is the steading of the Ferleen family, who raise animals.  A few score Elves.  They probably expect us already, as word travels very swiftly when the nobles wish it.  They send messenger birds."

Phileas nods.  "I have heard of messenger birds. Elves are not the only ones who use such magic to communicate.  But tell us, are there also dangers here?  Would it be safe?"

"Is it ever safe?" Irkayo asks.  "We can keep armies of Orcs from our forest, and most things... but those foes that are subtle and skilled sometimes sneak through.  Sometimes I think our Queen allows it.  It keeps us alert, after all, and our skills sharp.  But at Rutti... even the most daring intruders would be challenged.  We cannot protect the whole forest, but we do guard our homes and children well.  Should anything happen, you would have the arms and magic of the Ferleen family in addition to your own."

"Then that is where we shall stop for the evening.  Perhaps even a little show for them."

Topaz isn't really sure, himself, but has an idea that his folk are the result of imagined things, not made or created from whole cloth, but purely because others imagine they exist, so they do.  From the tiniest flower fairy living a Mayfly life of awakening, mating, and fading again to the mighty rulers of the Fey, they all have being because the collective imagination says they ought to.  The tiny little Golems were like they were because they were made.  But are they things or people?  That's the hard part, though he suspects most see them as objects.

"Not all beings eat.  Nor do they all sleep, age, nor cease at the end of the life they've been apportioned, Jolo," the Faun says easily.  "Whether you can continue, make more of your kind or others, that is, well ... that's something that's yet to be known."

He considers, tail wagging thoughtfully, "What have you learned that you did not know before, Jolo, or were you made knowing all you ever will?  If you've learned, or changed, then you are perhaps not exactly what you were before.  I think maybe I've asked the wrong question, but really wondered were you created able to become?  Are you able to frame a novel idea with the information you did not know before?  Can you reach a conclusions and consider implications?  Do you feel pride, sadness, joy, or shame?  Can you, using what you've learned change yourself and influence others?  That's maybe what life is, I think, the ability to express intention and by doing so to become something new.  Can you do those things?"

As far as rules are concerned, Topaz is unconcerned.  In some ways, he'd agree, though; humans, even more than Dwarves, seem to love putting labels on things, separating this from that, always comparing and contrasting.  It's a reasonable enough way of looking at the world, he supposes.  He elects not to worry over it, but rather to play a pleasant tune on his ocarina and watch the doings of the provocative snd engaging people around him.

Why does Nwofia dance to the tune Topaz plays?
Is it simply because she is entranced?
That, I think would not be a fair or true thing for me to say.
Rather, I think she moves merely because she enjoys the dance.

Alayna stopped, and she sighed. The Elf was worried she was too young, and why not, she was. But she knew enough. She grew up in the streets. And he was soooooo nice.

But she dismounted, and took care of her horse, then helped as best she could to everyone else. She was nothing but grateful to help. And so she did. And when done, she went to change, using her dryad costume, as was her favorite, but she wanted 'him' to see it. And she applied her makeup, the green and white careful and artful. Then, she braided her hair, with leaves and flowers, some which she had to gather. And truly, all for 'him.'

After all, she was a young girl. And she thought it was love.

According the great naturalists and philosophers, everything is made of some combination of Elements.  Everything.  Mix Fire and Water and things like that just right, and you get something else out of it.  The debate comes in later, when they discuss exactly how to do that, and just what those most basic elements are.  Four just doesn't seem to do it.  Some Humans add Quintessence, which is basically shorthand for "Whatever else we need to turn this into that." Elves say there are many more, with Magic, Spirit, and Nature being Elements, and Shadow as well, and maybe the great ethical forces of Good and Evil.. it gets complicated.

But if we go with the Elven theory, then one can start to see the relations between things as they see them.  Humans are balanced mixes of Elements, the Fey have more Magic and Nature added in, and Elves are somewhere between.  Orcs are in the other direction, the polar opposite of Elves, if one assumes that Humans are the middle.

Goblins have that admixture of Magic and Nature, like Elves, though maybe a little less Magic.  They are at home in the deepest darkest forests, wholly different from Orcs who detest Nature and prefer to live within stone walls where they do not have to even see it.  Goblins are weak fighters compared to Orcs, Elves, and Humans.  And they do not have great numbers.  But they have skills and a familiarity with the natural world that gives them an uncanny ability for infiltrating through Elven defenses- that mix of Magic and Nature.  Where the Elves are graced with a touch of Spirit, the Goblins are tainted by Shadow.    It is a very good thing there are few of them.

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

The caravan settles into Rutti.  For the moment, Irkayo must play the part of Native Guide, meeting with the Ferleen family Elves and explaining who these travelers are.  It's hardly necessary, they were expecting this visit.  They already have a camp ground picked out- in their village, in a field generally used by the Elven clan's horses.  They can hear the sounds of the horses in the shelter in the distance.  Perhaps the animals are unhappy about losing their paddock to strangers.

The Argentos's speak with the Elders of the tribe, and of course, offers to pay for their hospitality with a brief show, explaining with some exaggerated sadness that their best must be preserved for the queen, whom they expect to meet tomorrow.  The trail ahead, he learns, is the least safe leg of the journey. Yes it is frequently patrolled by Elves.  But it is a very rugged area, with crags, glens, grottoes and gorges, and the Elves are always on the alert while crossing.  It is such rough country that not even the Elves can keep it thoroughly watched.

Phileas does not want to ask about particulars here.  That could be interpreted as rude, hinting that perhaps their hosts are not seeing to the protection of guests.

But he quietly asks those who are not performing to help out with guard duty.

Then, he directs the show for the Elves of Rutti to begin.  Alayna will have to be at her best, here- the Rutti Elves are known for horses.  The Black Forest Elves do not have many, but many of those they have are here.

Jolo tries to be as helpful as he can, especially to Escher.  Anything that can be considered a towel gets expertly fluffed and folded.

though Esher is short on towels, he shows Jolo how the costumes folded for the reformers to quick change their costumes.

Esher does not focus his skills on his own puppets during this performance. He does a puppet show and it is flawless. but for this performance he played back up to the rest of the caravan. ensuring the dancers and physical performers have the best lighting. Ensuring that those that use word and music to stir emotion and has the best acoustics.

The last performance was all about what he could do for himself, while his focus for this one was about what he could do for the troupe. illusion based but very solid "dark way" bridges temporarily spanned between trees supporting ropes for climbing performances. shifting illusion tapestries disguised costume changing areas and staging areas for acts that were preparing to preform or had just finished their acts.

illusion could be used for grand deceptions or subtle support, Esher was skilled at both, but his companions never requested his skills to their fullest potential. so he took it upon himself to show pieces at a time of his skill set and allow his companions own creativity to inspire collaborations.

---

As a wizard Esher had enough scrolls in back up that he would not have to worry about "enough sleep/rest" to prepare spells. He was prepared to give his best performance for the queen as he always did in every performance.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:40, Thu 12 Mar 2020.

Nwofia thinks it best to save her performance for the Queen.  For now, while she does not have the greatest of perception abilities, she is as nimble as the least nimble of elves and she has some knowledge of nature, and if necessarily some ability at setting traps.  She explains this to Phileas and asks his advice.  Should she perform tonight? or should she instead help with guard duty?

Tahra sets up her chiromantic tent, and she is willing to undertake guard duty. (Klimmin will be active.)

Phileas consider's Nofia's suggestion, and decides, it is a sound one.  There are more than enough to do a small show this evening... and Alayna seems especially eager.

"I've never seen her quite so fussy with her costume," Phileas says.

Nearby, his wife Hylensia takes a deep breath.

But the troupe manager doesn't want traps set.  This is, after all, the home of the Elves, and they might be wandering around, or friends, or livestock...

"and who knows what sort of magical forest creatures," Phileas says.  "It would be very bad if we caused injury to any one of them.  But stealthy eyes, and security, yes, that would be good."

Jolo has found a niche.  Handling towels is a lot like handling costumes.  The little Golem perks up, suddenly being useful again.  Costumes can be cleaned, folded, repaired, just as if they were towels.  (and a few of them almost are).  The facial expression never changes of course, but Esher can tell, the way Jolo acts, clearly the golem enjoys doing useful, appreciated work.

Knowing what he knows of Golems, Escher also knows that ordinarily, a Golem can't be taught skills, except when they are built. He'd never be able to hand Jolo a crossbow and teach the Golem how to use it.  But... that's what they say about ordinary Golems, isn't it?

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

Very fortunately, when it comes to evening guard duty, the party has an ace:  Tahra's familiar Klimmin, who is a bat.  Being a bat means needing lots of food, so Klimmin normally flies around a lot after dark.  Being a bat also means that most of the Bad Things that might be a threat don't react at all to Klimmin.  Bats are normal, plentiful night time fliers.

Klimmin makes a report early on:  yes, they are out there, in the woods, watching from a distance.  Creepy, hooded, cloaked, shorter than Humans or Elves, but not stout and sturdy like Dwarves.  Speaking in hissed whispers the bat can certainly hear, but not understand.

Tahra strokes her pet. She rises as if going to relieve herself. And on her way she passes close to an elf whispering Wait thirty seconds before wander walking. Attackers to [direction] are weighing options. She does her business and goes back into her chiromancic tent.

Alayna was herself not aware that she was acting differently. She was working on her blue costume, one that showed her thin figure to best effect, with some of it looking transparent, being sheer white throughout, but much of it laid with blue lace that hid most of her. Her hair was carefully braided, then wrapped about her, her makeup in blue that made her look somewhat otherworldly. The back was bare, showing her vine tattoo. Her hair was woven with blue lace as well. While the others had seen her wear this costume, she had never taken so much time with it. Even her horse was decorated in blue, especially his tail.

Of course, she would deny that she was taking more time than usual to dress...

Once she practiced dressing and such, she waited nervously, wanting to do her best show yet.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Sun 22 Mar 2020.

Marcos completes his dark way bridges serving as the upper supports for the back drops for the show that night. He also points out (to any elf or party member that wishes to pay attention) the ease of getting to the upper most areas between the trees. high ground had strategic advantages and he did not wish for the opportunity to go unnoticed.

he then began to weave sound and shadow into the upper canopy of the trees, causing the sound of wind in the trees to stop and leave only the eerie creaking of the trees. shifting and amplifying the sounds of the creaking to give the impression that the trees themselves were speaking to each other in a language only known to the trees.

Nwofia keeps eyes, and in particular ears open as she takes part in the watch, looking out for goblins or whatever else might seek to prey on the troupe and its hosts.

Alayna is the star of this particular show, which is helpful as the local Elves raise horses and really appreciate her skill.

And quite a few certainly appreciate her costume; she might have been thinking of impressing Irkayo, and although he is certainly there and certainly impressed, Alayne has an impact on most of the young male Elves of the settlement.

In fact, when others are performing, they make their wishes clear:  "Bring Alayna back!"

Hylensia watches the reactions.  "We have young star material in Alayna," she says to her husband Phileas.  "Shining like that, so young, she is very powerful in a great many ways.
 But then the hard part is always protecting her from herself."

Tipped off, the Elves carefully watch the perimeter of the clearing surrounding their settlement.  There is movement out there, they see it, but... nothing comes close.

One of the elder Elves approaches Tahra. It is a woman in a cloak that seems to be a quilted mash of green, gray and brown patches.  "You've seen them with your magic, yes?  Goblins.  Sometimes, they watch us.  They will not attack here, Goblins  are always too few and we are well defended and they know it.  This forest is ours, and they are intruders.  But.. away from our homes they can be dangerous.  They may be a problem when you travel tomorrow."

Word filters through the Elves that Goblins are near.  Irkayo, of course, finds the moment to tell Alayna, though he doesn't seem overly concerned.

"They stay away from our homes because they know our homes are well protected.  But they are curious, very curious.  Just like us, this is all something they have never seen before."

Tahra rose when the elder appeared. Your presence honors me.

Tahra considers the question before replying slowly Neither "Yes" nor "No". Perhaps you'll indulge me with some conversation...I'd like to know why you ask. You're knocking on a door that opens into my life.

Nwofia approaches Phileas and asks, "Will we be performing for the Goblins at any point? If so I think perhaps my skills may be of some interest... some form of act in the trees, combining tumbling, jumping, balancing and sleight of hand.  I think they might enjoy it.".

To say that Alayna was amazed at her popularity was an understatement. The teen knew she had done a perfect show, but still, the cheers and the calls, many from the men, both embarrassed and amazed her. She took extra bows, and when called back, did her backflip to the ground that she had practiced, only wobbling a little with the landing.

Coming back to the trailers, she was out of breath and flushed with excitement. "Oh, I must know what I did right! They loved me! I just cannot believe it!"

She was taking off the decoration from Angel and brushing him when the unconcerned Irkayo came to tell of the Goblins. She blushed as he approached, wishing she was not so worn looking from the show.

"Goblins? Oh, I have met some. A girl on the street often does. They are a bit rough, but not as objectionable as Orcs can be. I know a few words of Goblin, but only a few. The Orcs have better... um... curses." She blushed again. "I do not know if they would like the show as much as the Elves did. I fear I am too tired to do another one right now."

Of the evening's performance, Topaz plays only a small part, complementing with music the displays others perform.  He plays his fiddle, a departure from the Byzantine lyra, bowed from his shoulder, occasionally beneath his chin in more spirited passages, rather than vertically from his lap.  The small instrument has none of the drone strings familiar to such instruments, though.  It's closest in form, perhaps, to the medieval Vielle which will come along in the centuries to follow.

He plays easily, not in the feverish and passionate way that wrings perspiration from him as he's done so recently.  Tonight is Alayna's evening, she and her equine companion.  The Faun simply plays, joyously in time and counter-point to the lass' vaulting dance.

Of Goblins and their skulking, he is uncertain.  "Word of our passage precedes us, it sounds."

Hearing Nwofia speak of performances, he asks, sounding skeptical, "Do we mean to play for them, then?"

"No idea", said Nwofia.  "But we played for Orcs so why wouldn't we?  I'd even play for the Garamantes if I had to."

A few of the characters, Nwofia included, have traveled far enough to know that folk of a kind in one place, such as Elves, Gnomes, and especially Humans, are not necessarily like those somewhere else.  Such it may be with Goblins.

After the performance is finished, as everyone is beginning to settle down for the evening, the elders of the Ferleen clan talk about their nearby visitors, the Goblins.

"I have never thought I would hear anyone talk of inviting Goblins in," a woman says.  "They are nothing but trouble, and danger.  Not as spiteful and malevolent as Orcs, but considerably more cunning.  Orcs are brutes, and try to force their way into the Black Forest.  Each time, they have failed, but sometimes not without cost to us.  The Goblins, however, are clever and know something of magic and stealth.  They are not strong creatures, so they have adapted and become clever creatures.  But this limits their numbers.  They cannot come in armies of thousands or even hundreds.  A Goblin band numbers no more than twenty.  They strike only the weak.  You see, Orcs would merely tell themselves you are weak and attack.  Goblins will study first.  They will not attack tonight.  We are strong enough to resist them and they know it, once they realize that you only add to our strength, they will only watch."

"There are no more than a few hundreds of them in all the Black Forest.  They lived to the east of us, once, but when the Huns first came the Huns swept them up into their armies.  They made of them scouts and infiltrators, and sent them out ahead of the Orc armies.  The Goblins realized that they were merely being used.  They hate the Orcs for that.  Many fled, and settled in secret little groups.  But hatred of Orcs does not automatically translate to friendliness towards Elves.  They have robbed and even murdered, and do not respect that we are the lords of the Black Forest and they merely intruders."

"Perhaps elsewhere they may have found a role in society, and live among people.  Here they are only outlaws, and dangerous ones at that.  Mind your guard when you are on the road tomorrow."

Irkayo asks, if this is the case, can the Ferleens spare escorts, to help protect the caravan?  They are, after all, invited by the Queen of the Black Forest herself.  How can the Elves allow them to come to harm in the Black Forest, their own land?

The Ferleens take up the issue.  They are a little disappointed that Irkayo has made it a point of honor like that.  Now it is hard to refuse.  They probably wouldn't refuse.. but it would be nice to have the option.

"We will send two good warriors with you.  But please, do not try to find them and invite them here tonight.  It would be a trying time."

When the shortened performance ends, it leads directly into an extended dinner lasting into the evening.  The Elves of Rutti do the work and don't accept any offers to help.  They treat the visitors as guests, not a passing entertainment troupe.  Dinner is a sort of light Elven Pot Luck, as they hadn't been preparing for this.  Dessert is a very sweet cherry wine.

There was a lot of positive notice of Alayna's performance.  For Irkayo, and all of the Elves, it was something wondrous to watch, but those that have worked with her elsewhere know she put something extra there.

Irkayo notes with some regret that there is nothing here he can share with her this evening, it's a small place, and it belongs to the Ferleen Elves who would have first claim on offering any tours of their settlement, and they cannot go beyond this evening because the Goblins are out there.

"But when we are at the Queen's Court it will be different," he says to Alayna.  "There is more of a... well more of everything there.  And the gardens.  There are wonderful gardens. For here, though... I have volunteered to be a guard for a shift this night.  You should not, you have worked hard, and you have to keep well rested and sharp if you are going to do that again.  It would not be right for you to have given your best here, and not for the Queen."

Phileas, though, is not content to let the Elves do all of the sentry work.  After all, the caravan normally posts a watch when they camp, even in cities. (Mostly, in that case, to watch for thieves.)  He sends Celeste to make the rounds, seeing that everyone has eaten, and is settled in for the night.  He expects to leave early, because Goblins are not normally "morning people".

When she passes Nwofia and Topaz she offers her opinion on performing for Goblins.  "It is something we've never done.  As far as I know.  Of course they might have slipped in here and there to watch a show.  But we've never performed specifically to entertain Goblins.  Honestly I do not even know what they would like.  From the sound of it... they are not Orcs.  But everyone perceives them as nothing more than little Orcs. Perhaps they would be interested in refinements that Orcs are most clearly not."

Alayna spent time speaking to all who saw her, laughing and flirting. However, she sat next to Irkayo, giving him most of the attention. Tired she might be, but she was loving the attention. And the cherry wine. She truly loved that, and became giggly.

"I have loved horses since I was little. And I raised Angel from a colt. There was a nice man that let me do that, and in the end, he gave him to me. I think he can read my thoughts, and sometimes I know what he's thinking. Such a beauty. And he knows it. I could lose everything, except him."

She stayed up as long as she could, but eventually had to go to bed. She wished she could perform for the Goblins, but she had given all she had for the last two performances, and she was more tired than normal. And wobbly legs didn't lend themselves to a good performance, she knew.

Tahra has been notable for her nonappearance, not leaving her tent.

Irkayo Sathower volunteers for a night shift, of course.  Service as an escort for the caravan demands it!  He prowls around the camp with a bow, when it is his turn.

There's a lot to think about, and Alayna isn't all of it.  There's the Goblins, of course... and the odd ideas that Human women had about them.

Would they really perform for the Goblins?  Treat them like just... people?  But Goblins were vile little thieving wretches, and very dangerous given the opportunity. Did they not know?

The Elves of the Black Forest did not survive this past thousand years of turmoil in the world by being gentle and trusting.  The Orc troops that tried to push their way into the forest, on numerous occasions, were not seeking entertainment.  The Goblins were just the pathetic things forced to scurry through the shadows to serve Orcs that would kill them just as soon as they'd kill an Elf.  Beyond the sanctity of the Black Forest, and the old and honorable life of the Elves, that was how the world worked.

Wasn't it?

Time is marked by the stars and the moon, and the moon overhead means he is relieved by one of the local Elves.  Yes, he reports, the Goblins are there.  Watching and studying. No doubt wondering about the abilities of the travelers.

"So be it," says the other Elf.  "They will be that much more tired in the morning, and less able to pursue master Argentos and his caravan.  I think."

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

With the morning, those on last shift of guard duty wake up the whole settlement, caravan included.  Elves yawn, and look sleepy- they are not used to hard schedules.

Jolo scarcely notices.  The Golem does not sleep.  He spends the night puttering around his patron's wagon, making sure everything is perfect.  Marcos does have the neatest, best kept, cleanest wagon in the troupe, now.  With the whole night to work, Jolo has left it spotless.  He laments, though, that his abilities do not include cooking.  A few of the Golems can do that, but not Jolo.  Nor can he learn- a Golem's functions are literally enscribed in the magic that animates it.

Breakfast is hasty- bread, fruit, nothing cooked.  The Argentoses want to get on the trail.  This are expected to be a little different today.  If they do get moving ahead of the Goblins, the most dangerous position in the caravan is last.

Which is a good reason Tahra takes them middle. Klimmin is asleep.

Marcos was one of the last to retire for the night. Almost as soon as he entered the collapsed puppet stage wagon, which was also the place called his traveling house; the lights went out and mostly quiet. Quiet except for the fastidious and diligent work of Jolo.

two hours after Marcos entered his wagon, mage lights began glowing bright enough to read and study. Marcus had not needed sleep so much as "rest" a distinction he had credited to (in front of friends) to a special ring of sustenance. He scribed scrolls and mapped out a performance for the goblins (just in case). By the time everyone awoke the stage wagon was secured and ready for travel...as the last wagon

the performance for the goblins...
reclining atop the stage wagon was a 10 1/2 ft long gold dragon, upon its back an exquisite exotic saddle. It would take physical interaction to tell it was an illusion wrapped around the dragon puppet Marcos had used to entertain the orcs and humans, under very different coloration and styling. But it had not been any part of the recent performances for the elves, and Marcos had no intention of bringing it in range of any physical interaction with any goblins. Additionally Marcos could channel spells through the mouth of the dragon while riding the dragon puppet, illusion or not it had "breath attacks."

as the troupe began to rouse the "dragon" crawled off the wagon and strolled around the area, to allow elves and troupe members to interact with and make the appropriate will saves vs illusion, and to increase the believably to observant goblins.

Nwofia too thought about what sort of things goblins might find entertaining.  She rode the wagon, watching carefully to see what they were doing, but more to the point, she was trying to work out why they were doing.  It didn't matter though.  Watch and learn, Nwofia, Watch, learn and use that knowledge.  They would need to guard the caravan certainly, but why not learn what goblins actually liked?  She was a showman.  With every breath she was a showman.

Topaz takes in the evening as he does the wine, with his signature blend of exuberant ardor and elegant decorum.  Where there is space in the gathering for such, he sings, plays an instrument, recites a poem or famous speech, or dances with a willing partner.  Better, as far as the Faun is concerned, is the opportunity for genteel flirtation with all and sundry.  Whether to raise a smile, a smirk, or a blush, he playfully encourages such exchange.

As far as being a guard goes, Topaz is not the best.  He's far too prone to bouts of boredom, thus easily distracted.  Rather, he's likely to entertain himself and draw others along in his wake, thus detracting from the point of guarding.  More better he should busy himself aboout packing up for the journey.

In response to Phileas' point, Topaz has few ideas.  "It seems a better measure of our worth to perform than to fight, really, should it come to that.  They mayn't give us an option otherwise, but it seems where we can, we'd be better suited to playing than contending."

As he has no wagon, nor tent, of his own, the Faun has little to set up and tear down.  In the morning, though, he is all bright smiles and happy greetings, ears pricked and tail wagging.  Someone had a fine evening.  After everything is packed and the caravan is about to begin moving, he hops onto the tail of Nwofia's wagon and sits, swinging his legs and watching the world.  "It's going to be a fine day!"

From here there is no choice but to travel uphill, to cross a mountain ridge before entering the land of the Black Forest Elven royal court.  It is the type of landscape beloved by Elves; too rough for the easy spread of civilization,  heavily forested, so much so that much of the forest floor is in shadow even on a bright day.

There are two local Elves joining the trip- for them it is a common day jaunt to the royal court, something they do often enough though without the burden of escorting a large and very unusual caravan.

Elves are long lived enough, and Black Forest Elves few enough, for at least one of them to recognize Irkayo Sathower.

They speak in Elven.  They have no secrets, and are not hiding their conversation, but Elven is just their natural speech.  Kanthor Ferleen is surprised that Irkayo is even here, the Sathowers live closer to the waterways and are seldom seen trudging up and over the great ridges of the Schwarzwald.  When Irkayo explains that he volunteered to escort, in his appreciation of the performance, Kanthor asks where they are going.

"East," Irkayo says.  "Towards the sunrise, towards the spring lands."
"And you will go?" Kanthor asks.
"I cannot.  There is too much I cannot turn away from and leave behind.  I volunteered to take them to our Queen, because our Queen invited them.  To the east... that is beyond what I can offer."

"And now?  Lead from the front, or from the rear?" Kanthor asks.  "You know the Goblins are insanely curious of them.  I have no doubt they will kick themselves for sleeping so late..."

"There is a very good illusionist here, who kept them awake through the night," Irkayo says.

"But they will awaken, they will follow, they will catch up.  This caravan moves slowly.  We will post ourselves at the rear, and watch for them."

The caravan does move slowly.  It is following an Elven trail, with the aid of an Elven enchantment, but it is draft animals pulling wagons, and they do not move quickly.  Phileas's early morning departure has bought the group a few hours, and Marcos's spectacle bought them a few hours more, but when they finally get themselves together...

In a hidden glen in the forest, on the edge of the clearing around Rutti, the Goblins realize they've been distracted by last night's show.

"Snotch! Kreggle!  Wake up you lazy slugs!  The strangers have been gone since dawn, the sun is high in the sky!"

The caravan has already covered seven miles when the Goblins set out.  Two hours later the Goblins have made that up.  The caravan has moved on, but...

A messenger bird arrives, from the Elves at Rutti.  Kanthor reads the note tied to the leg before sending the raven home.  He alerts the rest of the group.

"They are pursuing, possibly a dozen of them.  We are entering the lands guarded by the Queen, but... if they mean to attack, they will be here soon, and they must do it soon, or lose the opportunity."

Hearing this, Tahra smiles a grim smile and drops back toward the rear of the company. She warns those nearby If they close, bad things are going to happen.

As usual, Alayna shows up at the front in the lead. She is so used to doing that, after all. She looks well rested, and has her hair still unbraided and hanging down past her horse's back as she rides. And she has put on makeup as well. Clearly, the precedent she set the day before in being a little overly concerned with her appearance is still part of her morning ritual.

She also is singing softly to herself, using various bits of songs she has learned in her short life. She is in a great mood. Even her horse seems happy, stepping high as he takes her to the front.

Nwofia takes ten of her bullets from her personal supply. If she needs more than that, it'll likely be time for closer quarters fighting.

Marcos continues to keep to the rear of the caravan. He continues the concentration on the illusion of a medium size gold dragon on his puppet, and with direct contact with the same puppet which he is riding he controls it's movement.

He keeps up with the caravan, occasionally pausing to look back to see how close the goblins are approaching. When his sight line becomes obstructed by vegitation, he takes the dragon puppet leaping into the trees.

For his part, Topaz prefers not to fight where performance might carry the day.  While Nwofia readies sling bullets, he takes a moment to charge his crossbow, then shrugs a masterfully crafted vest of chainmail on over his shirt.  He takes a bundle from his pack, unwrapping, a pair of expensive blades, rapier and dagger.

Before departing, he gives Nwofia a slight, wistful smile, looking genuinely disheartened at the thought of combat.  "It's a sad day when we've to take to arms instead of performing."

He collects his few belongings, hops off the dancer's wagon, then heads to the rearmost where others have gathered.  While he's as armed as anyone, he lays his weapons on the tailgate of the hindmost wagon and seats himself there, legs dangling over the sides.  The Faun takes up a strange instrument akin to the Syrinx or Roman auenis.  This one, makes a sound more akin to an aulos or other reeded instrument.

The Faun sits and plays.  After all, it's not like the wagons're going to sneak through an ambush or escape stealthily through the forest.  Best, perhaps, to let confusion and uncertainty rule the Goblins. "Maybe, just maybe they'll come in close enough we can convince them to become an audience."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Aiming to use Enthrall should our guests come close enough, DC 17.

---

Nwofia nods to Topaz and somersaults from the wagon to stand behind him. She stashes the bullets in her pouch. "It is yet to become certain by any means." she said.

When he began to play, she began to dance, doing her best to make it a show.
ROLLS: tumbling 19, dance 18 and showmanship 26

The Goblins do make an effort, but it's not easy for them.  The caravan has quite the head start, and though they can catch it, by the time they are close, the caravan is near the area of forest patrolled by the royals of the Black Forest Elves- the most powerful magic users in the land.  The Goblins fear them:  the forest obeys their every whim, they say.

It does so already.  A sneak attack on the back of the caravan is not possible.  The trail is narrow, made for Elves, not wagons.  It opens to accommodate the wagons, and then, as the last passes, the forest closes in again.  This is very frustrating to Goblins who almost, almost think they have a clear opportunity.

Several times the seem to rally for an effort- there is a noise, movement in the underbrush, and they try to race ahead moving through the forest alongside the caravan.  The last time, though... they are discouraged by the appearance of the dragon illusion.

It's not the illusion per se that does it.  This isn't the first encounter with magic for the Goblins.  They've been hanging around an Elven forest, after all.  But it means for them that they are up against at least one mage of unknown power.  When you are already working at the edge, it is not the time to multiply your problems by taking on a magic user of unknown capabilities.  And besides, the Goblins recognize the runes emblazoned on the tree, here.  They are entering the land of the Queen.  Here, it's not safe to travel off the trail.  One can easily encounter the defensive traps of the Elves, especially if one is trying to keep one's focus on a moving caravan.

Fighting back their bitter curiosity, they call off the pursuit, ending a battle of determination and wits that most in the caravan weren't even aware was happening.

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

It is Taroduna, the court of the Queen of the Black Forest Elves.  It has been so for centuries, and this very odd town has a feel of age.

It is more of a town than anything else they have seen in the Black Forest.  Still not a big city like Humans build, but not a collection of tree homes dispersed in the wood.  Taroduna is a town.  And yet. it is clearly in the style of the Black Forest Elves.  Every structure is blended into trees- trees grow through roofs, buildings wrap up and around trunks and sprawl onto great branches.  Everything blends- and it is all blended so well that it is hidden until the last moment, when suddenly, Taroduna is all around you.  Soft lights glow around door openings and stairways rising into tree canopies, and songbirds are everywhere, completely unafraid of the two very large forest cats that sit perched on a step.

And of course, Elves approach from several directions at once; armed sentries, and nobles in glittering costume.

"We are here," Hylensia Argentos observes quietly.

Tahra dismounts and stretches, particularly her legs after the saddle time. Then she stands and waits, her lips and eyes smiling.

Her long hair flowing behind her, Alayna whispered to her horse, then gave a nudge of her heels. The white horse reared on his hind legs, standing for a moment, then taking a few steps two-legged before coming down. She waved to those around, smiling, then patted Angel's neck lovingly.

One of the Elf escorts speaks with the sentries of Taroduna, while the other makes a report to the Argentoses:

"It was wise to leave so early.  Elves are not fond of hasty mornings, and it seems that Goblins are less so.  By the time they caught up with us, they were harried and tired, and we were too close to the royal defenses to allow them time to get ahead and set a trap.  And... I must say the illusion of a Dragon helped keep them at bay."

"I liked it," Phileas says.  "Quite authentic, I think.  Our Gnome must have seen his share of them."

"Dragons have attacked the Gnomes?" the Elf asks.

"Quite the contrary.  The Dragons of Basilea make it clear that the Gnomelands are under their protection.  They are long standing allies.  The Gnomes possess features the Dragons greatly value: hands, and willingness to work hard creating things."

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

By way of Elven messengers and a bit of Elven magic, the coming of the entertainers is no surprise here.  Here, it will not be necessary to sleep in wagons, or in tents set up around them.  The Elven royal family does not treat guests like that. Here, the Elves have set aside of "Traveler's Home"- much like an inn of the Humans, but there is no service at all, and travelers are expected to do the work to make sure that it is just as nice when they leave.

In design, also, it is unlike a human inn.  It is not one building, it is one main hall and a series of small lodges that follow a spiral up a tree and out onto gigantic branches.  The lodges are very rustic from the outside, but inside, they look like rooms from an exotic palace, with fine silky cloth covering the walls.  The furniture is all finely carved and polished wood.  There is a definite lack of metalwork, but the Elves seem to capture a sense of rich elegance with fine woodwork instead.

Marcos appreciated the compliment on his dragon imagery, and since it is a concentration duration spell he see no reason to end it. But instead allowed it to become more fantastical and less bound to reality.

I appreciate that my works of art are pleasing to the destingushing elven eye.

It is not the Elven way to rush anything.  If Phileas asked for a day or a month to prepare the show, the Elves would think nothing of it, and grant the company all the time needed.  As idyllic as Taroduna might be, though, he has a world to explore.  This is only a stop.  He asks only the time necessary, telling the Elves here they will be ready to perform on the afternoon of the following day.  It was a long journey today, after all.

The Elves do not see the Argentos troupe as a business venture; there's no talk of paying them for the show.  Perhaps they don't understand that this is how it works.  Instead, the troupe is treated like guests.

But Irkayo, having adapted to his role as advisor, has another interpretation:

"I know that you collect coin as you go," he says quietly when he has the chance.  "So does the queen, I am sure.  We are not altogether ignorant about your ways.  But it is import to.. pardon the words... play your part.  As guests.  You see, if you were not guests, you would not be welcome here.  Since you are invited, you are guests, to be treated with kindness.  But do not even hint that you expect any compensation beyond what is freely offered."

Alayna, of course, is not one to care if she is paid or not. Just being allowed to perform, for her, is a gift that she never expected. And to be a guest of Elves is a dream come true. Of course she seeks out Irkayo to remind him of the promise to her...

"You do remember that you promised to introduce me to the Queen, do you not?" she asked him, giving him a saucy look from under her eyelashes. "I realize that a part blood is not someone she might want to meet, but it would be very special to me."

"No, no you are guests, of course she would meet you, she summoned you," Irkayo explains hastily.  "One can hardly be responsible for the circumstances of one's birth.. no matter how much some of us might find the idea troubling.  Come, we shall go to the Court."

There is no marked path that says "Court of the Black Forest Elves This Way", but even Alayna, having never been this way, quickly learns to see the subtle signs.  Along the way, the forest town of Taraduna becomes more.. Elf Queen Court-ish.  More vivid colors in the flowers, even the green of the moss beneath their feet is a brighter shade of green.  Birds, butterflies... Alayna picks it up quickly, the Court is where the forest is brighter.

It's not indoors.  It's not even up in the trees.  Although, it's on a bluff with one steep face, with trees growing up along side it, so from some angles below the bluff it looks like it's up in the trees.  Even as they approach, they can see lights and movement and hear muffled fragments of voices.

And then they are aware of a large, silvery furred and exceptionally fluffy looking fox walking alongside them.  Fur gleams like polished metal, it seems impossible that this creature got in so close without being noticed.  And yet, there it is.

"Interesting creatures, Elves," it says.  "They tug at my heartstrings.  So much wisdom, and yet, such gaping holes in that wisdom, and they have no idea how to fill it.  How can one live so long and yet not learn some of life's lessons?  Hello, you might have heard of me.  Vulenk, observer and teacher.   Neither of you seem to be the wise and powerful types that typically visit the Queen, that's a good sign."

Alayna blinks in surprise at the fox that speaks, almost as much as she is surprised by what he says. But she pauses to give him a curtsy.

"Greetings, wise one. I am Alayna, with the traveling entertainers that arrived today. I ride a horse and do tricks. But I fear that I have not heard of you, but I am fearfully ignorant of such things. This is Irkayo, who is nice enough to show me the way to meet the Queen. If I might ask, what is it you teach?"

Topaz has attended the Elven court in past, embassy from Princess Nia Sian Rosedrake, a Fey court of Brownies.  In such role, he's travelled widely, bearing news and tidings from place to place.

He's quite glad the goblins have decided that attacking is too much work.  Escher's illusory drake is quite convincing and seems to have done the job.  He spends the intervening time enjoying the ride.

The Faun's lightly surprised by the appearance of the silver fox alongside the caravan.  He knows that Fey folks can get around quite stealthily when they need to, though he's far more about minor seemings and being seen, himself.  He considers the apparent fox and the self-provided name, savoring them as he might a scent or taste, to see what recollections they might spark.

Is it noteworthy enough for bardic knowledge to apply?

Topaz's knowledge of old lore does seem to apply to the fox.  He's not sure, though, just how specific to this fox the information is.  Among the inhabitants of the most magical places in the forests (and the court of an Elven queen counts) are various magical animals.  Often, these are exceptional versions of ordinary animals, given great powers and intelligence, and often other features, like unusual size, strength, or appearance.

It's hard to connect a story to this particular creature, though.  Where the old songs sing of The Fox or The Bear, they usually don't give it a name.  Maybe all the foxes in the songs are really just one fox.

These magical animals are generally not the villains in the story, though the Fox certainly seems to enjoy teasing.  They seem to have other roles- guardian, guide, perhaps the subtle paw of fate pushing things along in an intended direction.

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

"I teach the things that my students want to avoid learning," the fox says.  "The hard questions.  The questions we would rather gather up and hide away.  Someone must take them out of hiding or they will never be asked."

"Never a straight answer from someone like him," Irkayo says.  "I've heard of you. And you teach scouting and forest lore."

"Hardly teaching, that, just imparting the things I know.  I don't consider it the important part," Vulenk replies.  "But this is important, traveling entertainers among the Black Forest Elves.  You are the first in a long time.  This has been a very closed place, bottled in, looking past.  That must change."

As they approach they can see Elves in the court.  Just a few.  They don't have the dazzling costumes of the Elves of other places.  Here, even the queen... assuming one of them is the queen... looks as if they are planning a hunting trip.  Everything is in dark shades: green, brown, and black.

"Don't mind Vulenk," one of them, a woman, says.  "He always thinks he is a great teacher of wisdom.  It's a game, he speaks in vague hints and thinks he has accomplished something when you can attach some sense to it."

Tahra replies Master Fox, "That must change." Those are hard words to hear.

Tahra, overbold perhaps, responds There's the teacher, and then there's the teaching.

"Well met, Magister Vulenk", says Nwofia.  "I've never understood the need for change.  Surely, if there is something wrong, the solution could as easily be to move from one place to another?  That is why I am here in Germania, if that's where I am."

"Elves are not so easily moved," Vulenk replies.  "Although, they moved here, easily enough."

One of the other Elves present hears this, and is not happy about it.   A wizened looking elder in simple robes, he objects.

"Vulenk, it's rude to present our history in such a light.  Elves have always lived here.  Yes, in older times we lived elsewhere too, eastward along the Rhine to the great lake, and well beyond, but those times are past.  We are here because with our present numbers, and with the world the way it is, this is what we can defend.  Huns, Romans, and the Germanic Humans were all unable to threaten us here."

"Well they are all the weaker for it, now," Vulenk says.  "Or so they say.  I've heard it's a new time, and there are opportunities that come with travel.  At least, we have traveling guests here now!  They seem to think that leaving home is good."

"For this one, home must be very far," says the Elven queen, walking towards Nofia.  "So dark, I have not seen another human like that.   You must be from a distant land."

Nwofia curtseys, a deep and extremely formal curtsey which, given what she was wearing at the time would probably be extremely embarrassing to anyone but Nwofia. "I am from a long way away Your Majesty.  Over the Middle Sea, past Carthage and past Africa and Numidia, across the Sea of Sand to the Lake of the Hippopotamus and even beyond that to the tribes of the South and West.  We call ourselves by a secret name, but our neighbours call us Mandinka."

She smiles a white-toothed smile.  "But the remains of the Empire is my home now.  That and this caravan.  I guess that makes me a nomad."

Alayna's eyes were wide with wonder. She had never thought to question where Nwofia came from, in as much as no one really questioned where she came from. Truly, she had no home.

"Some of us travel from necessity," she remarked. "And the joy of simply being alive."

She suddenly realized she was both interrupting and also not showing respect. Like Nwofia, she curtseyed deeply, staying down until noticed. Her head was bowed, and her very long silvery hair (with the green streaks) fell to one side, exposing one partially pointed ear.

As far as Topaz is concerned, regarding Vulenk, he wonders the Fey hasn't taken the shape of a troll, rather than a fox.  A fox, perhaps, is recognized as far less threatening most of the time.  Unless one is a goose, perhaps, then the tiny canid could be taken for an apex predator.  Here, he thinks, the creature is about spreading low-level discord under the guise of asking deeply philosophical questions, goading people into action.  With a slight smile and inclination of his head, the Faun recognizes a fellow provocateur.

He regards Vulenk curiously before asking, "Are you suggesting, then, that the Elves here should venture out from their forests?"

On the queen's entrance, the Faun offers an slight and rather elegant bow, though he maintains eye contact at all times.  "Your Majesty," he says in  formal greeting.  Afterward, he smiles and adds, "It's a fine day to again meet your regard, the dappled sun shining on the surface of a burbling stream."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:12, Tue 02 June 2020.

Marcos let his concentration end the illusion spell. While it was true that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so to was a poor imitation a careless insult.

He shifted his focus to the illusion in his clothes, shifting the colors to compliment the surrounding terrain and season.

Looking to the fox fey he asks a question.

when does reality become nothing more then an illusion, and at what point does illusion become the commonly accepted reality? Like for example if I cast the illusion of a pit, and infused it with layers of reality with shadow. Could someone fall to the bottom of a pit that they know is an illusion, yet be unable to climb out.

Alayna looked up carefully, but didn't move. "I hope I have not offered offense, Your Majesty," she whispered in Elvish, trying not to cry. She was so afraid, now that she was before the Queen.

The queen actually looks surprised at the thought that she, an Elven wizard who has defended the Black Forest for centuries, seen everything, done everything, might be offended.  Or even surprised.  Elf queens are supposed to be neither.

Vulenk speaks quietly to Topaz; "Here, now, I would never suggest such a thing.  But if it were to come to pass, I could see only good coming from it. It is not healthy to be confined for long, no matter how grand and glorious the cage."

The fox seems eager to switch subjects when Marcos asks about illusions.

"I'm not great master wizard," Vulenk says.  "Theories and explanations reside in the archives of the great libraries, and I have never so much as opened a book in my life.  You see, I have no thumbs.  I could not turn a page if I tried.  So I am afraid I cannot speak of the hows and whys of magic.  Even if I have been known to craft an illusion or two myself.  I never ask myself how I do it.  Perhaps, if I did, I would realize that I cannot do it, and that would be that for me."

"Fox, you are up to something," the Queen announces.  "For the moment, I do not care what it is.  You may think you have our best interests in mind, but I know that I do.  So, this evening, I host strangers, a rare event, who tomorrow will show us the arts and songs of the world beyond the river. And this one, (she gestures to Nwofia) from much further than that!   Travelers, you are.  My people are not, nor dare we, our numbers are small and we must safeguard our home.  We do not go out, so I am glad that you have brought something in.  It is something we have not seen in a long time."

"Me?  Up to something?" Vulenk says defensively.  "I am chatting with guests.  About many things, like Gnomish Illusions and Elven Seclusions.  Idle speculation, of course, nothing more, not at all, I am not advocating that a journey of such an odd mixed assortment of performers is an opportunity for a... a reconnection with things lost, as it were.  I have not advocated it at all!"

There are a number of exasperated Elven stares at the Fox.

"Seriously, Vulenk, in front of these visitors?"  the Queen eventually asks.

"Well, considering that they'd be the ones most involved in such a thing it would be natural.  IF I was advocating that.  Which I am not.  I thought I made that clear."

Vulenk sighs.  With a hint of remorse, he says, "but oh, such wonders, the Rhein Falls... remember the Rhine Falls, your majesty?  It has been a while.  Such a place."

The Fox turns back to the performers.

"I do hope you have brought strange and exotic stories and songs.  I yearn for such things."

The queen nods to that.

Irkayo speaks up, possibly thinking that Alayna might not want to bring up her question.

"Your majesty, this half elven girl is Alayna, and she is one of the performers.  She knows next to nothing of her Elven heritage, but we wonder... is there some way by which we might learn?  Which kingdom, which clan?"

Alayna, who was still in a curtsy, looked up finally. "Your Majesty, I know not my home. I was orphaned at a very young age and grew up in human streets. I know not where my people are. It was a human woman who raised me until she died too soon. Am I one of yours? Or another group?"

Seeing no others still kneeling she effortlessly stood, her muscular thin legs raising her without strain. "Irkayo has seen me perform. Clearly, my human blood is visible, but so is my blood of Elves. Do you know?"

She was young, even by Elven standards, but she was old enough among humans to have a family. Her eyes were filled with hope, and the wonder of youth.

The Queen lowers her head for a moment, and her expression is one of sadness.

"Half Elves have tales of grief," she says.  "Somewhere in their tale, but it is always there.  Perhaps you were orphaned, perhaps abandoned... Elven parents can realize that in the years ahead, they will see their children age and die, and often this frightens them.  So much so that they hide..."

She stops, turns towards the Fox, understanding something.

"Vulenk?"

"I had no idea," the Fox admits.  "But go on, my queen, please, about hiding."

"For Elves, some things weigh on us more than time.  Time can pass, years and decades and centuries.  But what slowly grinds us down is loss we feel.  Humans race ahead into life, they are unafraid, because they have only a few years regardless.  Elves... for Elves it is different.  Your mother... perhaps your father but with these things it is usually the mother... may well have looked ahead and become afraid, and fled."

The queen takes an appraising look at Alayna.

"And your hair... is the green yours, or a dye?  It is not found in humans, nor in many Elves.  Only those lines that have been closest to the nature spirits.  Not many.  Silver is mostly in the Savoy Elves, but the green, that is special."

She looked at the Queen, trying to understand everything she said. "The green is my idea. It... felt right. With my friendship with my beautiful horse, and such, I feel closer to the forest than anything else. I was in the cities for so long, I wanted to feel... closer to the forest, so I dyed my hair. And I still do. I wear green makeup, and often wear green dresses, made to look like leaves. I want to feel closer. And coming here..."

She looked down in embarrassment. "I feel closer to what I am. One parent may have been human, but I feel closer to Elves. And I hope to entertain you in that way, in the best I can. I truly don't know if my parents left me or died. Either way, I am alone. This troop... they are now a family. And I am no longer afraid."

Nwofia waited politely to say it but something dug into her brain.  Not travellers and yet... "Your people are not travellers Your Majesty," she said, "And yet I have seen people who seem to be relatives of yours as I am related to these pale Northern humans.  We call them the Garamantes and they are much darker than I am but all the same, surely elves, albeit not so fair as those I see around me and without the love of nature.  Then again, the Garamantes live in the desert and I would imagine the desert is hard to love and perhaps I do not recognise that love when I see it.  Are the dark elves your kin, although distant I imagine?"

Tahra is listening, her eyes touching on Vulenk to gauge his reactions.

Marcos kept to the background allowing those gifted with tact and grace to carry the conversation, he hoped to not make a fool of himself or the troupe. Well not unless it was intended and part of a performance.

He stood quietly taking in the subtlety of the architecture and seemless blend with nature that few non elves could even hope to replicate.

Topaz recognizes a fellow provocateur in Vulenk, but he's uncertain who or what the "fox" may serve, or to what end he seeks to stir the Elves to motion.  Opening their forests or sending out their youth into the outer world can have great and unpredictable outcomes.  Such a thing is not something to be done casually, he expects, by the long-lived people.  For now, he holds his tongue on the topic.

While the Queen makes her rounds, inquiring of Alayna, Nwofia, and other performers, Topaz nods in acknowledgement, offering a soft, "Your Majesty" to her regard.  He's performed for her and for her court before, and has been her guest as embassy from the Brownie court of Nia Sian Rosedrake in Lutetia Parisiorum.

"By the shape of your face, ff your natural hair is silver, then you are very likely the child of a Savoy Elf, the Elves of the great Alps Mountains," the queen says to Alayna.  "More than that, without some divination, I cannot say."

Of all the Elven kingdoms, the Savoys are the most advanced in many ways- they build great cities of white stone and crystal, and their magic is intricate and powerful.  They call themselves the High Elves, though the Elves of the other kingdoms regard this as more than a little arrogant.  (The Savoy Elves courteously dodge this accusation, explaining that it is meant in terms of environment, a reference to the mountains they call home.)

"It is not often those folk come down from their mountains," the queen continues.  "Of late, as rarely as we do, though in older days they were travelers.  In arts and magic of many kind, a very accomplished people.  I cannot say how they would take you.. I cannot even say how ourselves would take someone in your circumstance, but if you enjoy the path you are on, it is for the best to stay on it.  But you are a guest here, I wish to see the arts of the world beyond our borders, and I have heard that you have great skill.  This evening, how may we host you?"

"Guests of the Black Forest Elf Queen, a rare and precious circumstance to find oneself in," Vulenk says.  "Make the best of such things!"

Irkayo speaks up.  "I thought I would show Alayna the Moss Gardens here.  It is one of our treasures."

"And I can tell a story or two that might interest you," Vulenk says.  "A Fox of my age knows many things."

The guests, if they choose to remain, can dine on Elven dumplings and drink Elven tea.  A few other Elves gather- close family and friends of the Queen, mostly to listen in.  Outsiders, and Vulenk telling stories, that doesn't happen every day.

After a little more social banter, and everyone settled, the Fox positions himself front and center.

"Shall I tell of the Fossegrim of the Rhinefalls?" he asks the Queen.  "After all, it is possible that our guests might be going in that direction, though it is not to be found on the roads of Humans."

The Elf Queen nods.

"Well then," Vulenk begins, "As we all know, there are still Elves... and Humans.. with the blood of Nature Spirits.  Once the Nature Spirits were everywhere upon the Earth.  But with time they withdrew.  Much like Elves.  And like Elves, to certain very special, and always very beautiful places.

"The Humans know of the Fossegrim.  At least some of them do, but sadly, they do not speak well of them.  This is because Nature Spirits can be slow to realize that although they are adept in their homes, those homes can be dangerous to the unprepared.  The Fossegrim skip and play in the waterfalls, and they are in no danger of tumbling off the rocks, or losing their footage.  They dance in waterfalls as squirrels in trees.  Often, they forget that others do not.  Lured by beauty, a few poor unfortunates have come to tragedy."

Tahra, having eaten with thanks, settles in. Klimmin leaves the shelter of her clothes and flutters off to search and feed.

The redhead listens raptly to Vulenk. However, her eyes regard the elves, observing hew they listen.

A Savoy Elf. Was her mother or father such? It would explain so much! But she blushed visibly when Irkayo offered to show her something wondrous. "I... I would be honored, both to perform and to see these wondrous Moss Gardens. And hear more of such other things. I want to learn all. I never thought to learn of my other parent, and to have such... I am so very lucky!"

In that moment, her youth showed. But she was soon to be 18, then perhaps, she could choose her path. But for now, performing for the show was more than she ever expected.

She filled her selves on dumplings and tea and anything else. It seemed amazing that such a thin girl could eat so much, but she often did, and then worked if off... being gifted with a high metabolism.

Nwofia too sits quietly after dining and with tea still in her hands, sipping now and then she is, listens to Vulenk's tale and observes the elves as they listen and she observes Tahra in turn as Tahra too observes the elves. Of course, she also observes those elves who observe Tahra and those observing Nwofia herself.

As the elves observe her observing them, she smiles a smile that owes as much to domestic cats as it does to leopards.

Topaz, for his part, enjoys the tea and sweetened treats.  Of all the folk among whom he travels, the Elves, perhaps the Dwarves, still recall and practice the obligation of hospitality.  The various Gallic peoples had learned it from the Elves.  From whom they learned it the Faun has no direct idea.

He listens to the discussions around him, of parentage, far deserts, of an offered and accepted liaison to occur in the romantic environs of the moss gardens, then to one of the danger of nature spirits to Humans.  When discussion turns obliquely to travelling and venturing outward, Topaz attends quite closely indeed.

He listens carefully to the story of the Fossergrim, looking thoughtful and waiting until Vulenk finishes his discourse.  The Fox treads the ground nearby a sensitive and sacred topic.  "Not all are free to wander in the way you suggest, Vulenk.  So many of us are tied to our cynosure, each according to their rank in the courts and their nature.  You know this to be true, at least for our folk.  Perhaps, I suspect it is with the Elves, that they too have something magical or precious to them beyond all other things that they're not free to leave behind without losing a certain part of themselves.  Not all have left, but have changed along with the places they once were.  Some are bitter with anger and sadness at that change as they've been forced to change with it."

More than that about the nature of Fey folk he won't venture here.  Much as the Vulenk's tale of the Fossergrim, some Humans and some Orcs know these things.  It's part of what made them so dangerous to his people.  He looks briefly to the Queen, then back to the Fox.  "Master Vulenk," he adds, "we've come as a travelling troupe, to perform for rude coin, or here, for the ancient gift of hospitality.  We offer diversion in exchange for an audience and a place to rest and refresh."

The Court of the Queen of the Black Forest Elves seems to have no special protocol about who gets to approach, any Elf in the area seems welcome to come and go as he or she pleases.
 But, with Vulenk the Fox telling a story, and peculiar visitors from... not only the outside world, but judging from Nwofia some parts of the outside world the Elves never knew existed... the local Elves are more coming than going.  The Queen's court gets crowded.

"The Rhinefalls, as we know, are a wondrous place of ineffable natural beauty," Vulenk continues.

He describes the waterfalls, often dipping into Elven for the benefit of the Elves present, as their language is rich with imagery for describing the natural world and he fears they may miss a nuance or two in the Human languages.  But he covers himself well in both languages, absolutely fluent.  He describes the falls, which is not a high waterfall, but because it is broad and the current is powerful, is a roaring beast of white spray and rushing current, broken by great rocks, the forest rising all around.

He describes the inhabitants, how they are water spirits, female nymphs and male fossegrim, beautiful as the river, quirky, playful and unpredictable, and gifted in music and song.

He tells of how Elves once lived along the bank, and built a bridge of portals, invisible and unknowable without magic sight.

Some Elves clearly long to see it for themselves, after hearing Vulenk.  Some of the older ones long to see it again.

Almost like a child, Alayna is enraptured by the tale. In her own mind, she feels half Sylph or Nymph anyway. And hearing of such a place fills her with longing. Perhaps, when her travels are over, she can see such places.

As it is, she sits and often puts her hands to her breast in wonder as she listens to the Fox speak.

"There are times I wish you could be more subtle, Vulenk," the Elf queen says as the fox finally wraps up his story.. more of a travel anthology about the inhabitants of the Rhine Falls than anything with a continuous plot.

"I am a silver white Fox," Vulenk says. "Nature has not equipped me for subtlety."

The Queen asks:  "Tell me, you have been beyond our current borders many times, have you not?  You visited the Rhine Falls recently?"

"Oh, I have.  As have a few of the Black Forest Elves.  You know this.  You certainly have the magical means yourself."

"Not in a while.  The world away from the land we defend... it seems... unfriendly.  Changed.  Not ours." the Queen replies.

"Perhaps that could change, one day," Vulenk says with a sigh.

Irkayo finds Alayna as the gathering shuffles, Vulenk's stories concluded.

"I feel I should tell you," he says quietly, "I am no great explorer, even though I know it is a wondrous place.  To bring you here, I volunteered.  But... I have a home and a place.  Here, I am glad to guide you and show you our forest.  There... well, but for now you are here, so I am still your guide."

The Queen addresses the group:

"I must pause for the evening, the day grows late, even Elf Queens need their rest.  I hope you have enjoyed the stories of our honored Vulenk, and I hope to enjoy your show tomorrow.  Continue with merriment if you wish, but for now I must leave you."

Tahra drops the Queen a curtsy, though keeping her eyes on the Queen's face.

Topaz rises the Queen does, standing in respect.  He gives a slight, rather formal bow though he keeps his regard to her at all moments.  "Rest well, Majesty.  It has been our finest pleasure to attend you this even.  We shall await eagerly the opportunity to ply our craft for your amusement and entertainment," he says in his mellifluous baritone.

Waiting until the Queen has departed, the Faun finds his way to speak quietly with Alayna apart from the earshot of others, offering only a tiny bit of Fey wisdom.  "Go mindfully, miss, the moss in the garden shall be soft and the young gentleman mayn't yet know his own blood is running high," he says softly before drifting away again, melting back into the murmuring conversation of the evening.

Nwofia too curtseyed, low enough for her forehead to brush the ground, although this is of course less impressive for an acrobat than for most.  She doesn't stay down but rises again, standing at attention until the Queen is gone.

In the back of the gathering, one young elf could only sigh wistfully at the tale the old fox spun of lands beyond the Black Forest.  And these people!  These strange, strange people!  What had they seen and experienced already in their short lives?

Another sigh escaped her throat, eliciting a look of dismay from a matronly looking elf next to her.  "These fantasies are not for us, child.  Best you remember that..."

Siankiir only bowed her head sadly.  "I know, Mother...I know..."

Tahra starts walking here and there. PM

Frowning slightly, Alayna nodded to Topaz. In many ways, it was a teenager nodding to a parent and not fully understanding. "Of course, I shall be careful," she stated solemnly.

She turned and accompanied her elven companion. "I can't wait to see everything you want to show me," she stated, taking his hand. "I'm so excited. And I thank you for taking me here. I still hope to find my family. But this is good enough for now. And... I love being here with you," she added with a blush.

Nwofia cocks her head to one side, watching Siankiir's mother and wondering to herself whether Siankiir needs rescuing in some way. It seems entirely possible.  She didn't look like a child but understood that elves took longer to reach adulthood.  She wondered whether that was exactly the truth.  Perhaps adulthood came when the elven child learns to escape the oppressive hand of an overbearing parent.  She keeps wanting and keeps thinking and considers who to ask.

Topaz of course, her favourite dancing partner.  She asked him although 'of course' the question was entirely hypothetical.

Marcos had remained quiet in the back standing more so that he could see, but no less out of respect either.

He was enraptured by the tales told in vivid detail by the fox. By the time he stopped imagining the vistas surrounding the waterfall...the queen had already left.

He had much to think about, and much planning for tomorrow's performance.

Tahra works her way up a tree.  It's easier that she expected- the trees here have been used as "home" for centuries, as Elves often do wherever they've lived for a long time.  There are stairs, spiraling around the trunk, extending upwards along major branches, here and there suspended by ropes.  The wood isn't "regular" in appearance, it hasn't been cut to precise sizes.  The Black Forest Elves seem to prefer the look of nature.

In short order Tahra, and her faithful companion bird, have found a good viewing spot, a platform that might have been placed here for that purpose.  A few other platforms are higher up, but this one has a clear view of sky, and the others are apparently occupied by Elves who are drifting away from the main gathering now that Vulenk has told his story.

Some are still left, as Elves often stay up late, and the conversations take some time to fizzle out.  Irkayo is slightly but not greatly surprised that Alayna hasn't shied away, even when he told her he could not travel on.  One does not simply disappear from one's home on a lark, like that.

"I will save the gardens for tomorrow, they are better to see in the light," he says.  "For now, I will show you the watch towers.  It is good in starlight."

He knows that Tahra has gone up an inhabited tree, but not far are trees that were set up as defenses, with platforms and catwalks interconnected, so that Elves could move around and attack invaders on the ground below.  They haven't been used for that purpose in many years.  Now, sometimes this forest skyway is used as an "exhibit space" by Elven artisans, and there is traffic during the day.  At night, there is nothing.  Those Elves who are awake and looking for "something interesting" have converged on the strangers, leaving this area empty.  The platforms and catwalks are placed with care, and the forest carefully groomed to allow long views from platforms- good for archers, and also good for just looking over the forest and sky.

"If Elves do not have a family, we adopt," he says to Alayna as they climb into the trees.  "Everyone must have a family.  I do not know of any Half Elves here.  But I think we could convince the Queen to allow you to become one of us.  It is not impossible.  Something for you to think about.  This is a good place."


Vulenk decides to wander off himself- though he's never been clear on where he spends the night.  Do magic foxes bother with dens?  Little house in the woods, like in the storybooks?
But the fox has remarkable ears, and simply cannot resist a remark to the older Elf woman with Siankiir:  "Well played, madam.  Forbidding a fantasy to a youngster is the very best way to get them to pursue it!  You are a clever one!"


Those who are with the Argentos thing know one thing is certain:  eventually, Celeste Argentos will come looking for them, as the daughter of the Argentos's tends to be the one to make sure that everyone is together, no one missing, and everyone getting ready for the next day.

Topaz does, indeed, dance with Nwofia, as graceful a partner as one might imagine.  Whether the music is staccato and percussive or sweeping and moody, the Faun is a fine partner.  Evening is a liminal time, with day yielding to the night, yet the exact moment of occurrence remains indefinable.  He finds this to his liking.

Since there is no music save the awakening of evening, the bard takes a moment to let his Fey-born vanity play itself out over the mostly deserted courtyard.  "A moment, if I may," he says to Nwofia, before calling his doppelgänger into being a short distance away.  The seeming smiles, then seats itself and picks up a lively, but easy evening tune on a multi-stringed, bowed instrument, perfect for an easy gamboling dance.

He returns his attention to Nwofia, giving an elegant bow, as much so as he gave the Elven queen so shortly before.  For the Faun, this moment in the heart of Elven lands, Nwofia and dance are the center of all things.  ""Mi'lady, wouldst dance?  I would most honored."

DRAFT

Tahra sits while Klimmin, the bat, finds happy hunting. The moon is new. First looking for the planets, she find Venus near the western horizon. Jupiter is ascendant. The stars shine with scarcely a twinkle; the air seems stiller in this elven land. As she watches, she sees no cloud except, maybe, there are low clouds&perhaps just a haze—where sky meets earth to the southeast.  Slowly Tahra lets peace enter into her. She lies down; she sees a shooting star from the south. Watching, she sees another. Later, a third. The fourth she does not see, for she sleeps...deep, even breaths. Klimmins flutters down to rest on her hip.

For a heartbeat, Siankiir allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe Vulenk could get through to her mother.

But the look Ualiar gave the wily old fox could chill a hot spring.

"I," began Ualiar in a crisp tone, "have already lost my heart-sworn to that world.  The older elf bristled.  "I will not lose my only child as well.  Look to your own kin, elder fox..."

Siankiir cast her eyes away from her mother.  She knew the rant well enough.  Taken by neither illness nor enemy, her sire abandoned Ualiar while she was with child.  It seemed more and more that Siankiir's purpose was to serve as a bitter reminder of that erstwhile father.

...if I remind you so much of him, then you should let me leave so I don't keep disappointing you anymore...  The sentiment remained unspoken.  Siankiir lacked the arcane aptitude that many of her people (including Ualiar) possessed.  Nor did she have the archery skills that one would expect from an elf.  Passable in melee, but really, among her kind, Siankiir may as well be a fallen leaf from a tree.  Unnoticeable...

Instead, Siankiir's violet gaze followed the two of the strangers as they danced.  The faun was impressive enough, but the human woman with the odd skin was what enraptured her.  Skin as dark as life-giving soil, the woman danced with a vitality that Siankiir never would have expected from a human.  Perhaps that was a talent from being a short-lifer:  Dance as if every day could be your last.

In reply to Topaz (msg # 242):

Nwofia curtseys, a gesture that is full of grace, formal and yet loaded with erotic possibilities, although it is not clear whether it is meant for Topaz or for others who may be watching.  "The honour would be mine Sir Topaz, let us indeed dance." Without music she let her feet beat the ground in a stately rhythm. She crossed her arms loosely before and beneath her breasts while her palms and her fingers beat two more, different beats in counterpoint and syncopated counterpoint to the rhythm of her feet, bringing together a whole, complex rhythm unlikely to have been heard north of the Middle Sea before. She smiled at Topaz, inviting him to copy the rhythm so that she could release her hands and dance.

Once the two of them were dancing to this exotic rhythm, she moved in time and countertime with Topaz' feet occasionally coming close to ask her question or to breathe hot breath against his ear, or to touch, or not to touch, communicating such touches and such non-touches to the elves around, wondering how they would interpret the dance.

^{"Does the young elf need rescuing?"} she asks, ^{"And is it something we should do, even if she does?"}

Alayna climbed with Irkayo, sad that he couldn't continue with her, but determined to spend as much time with him as she could. She marveled at the trees, the pathways, everything about the city. But too, she remembered the Queen's words, about the Elves of the mountains, and her own silvery hair that might be a clue to her true home.

"I am sure that your Queen is very generous, and that she might allow me to stay. But..." she sighed. "I love my travels, and the show, and my horse. I do not think I could leave them, just yet. Which..." She took his arm with her hand as they reached their destination. "I do not wish to leave you. We have just met, after all. If... I mean, when I leave, might you... might you want to see me if I come back?"

It truly didn't still occur to her that he could wait years and it would be little to him, where her years passed more quickly. And she had the anxiousness of a teenager, who saw years as things that were a very long way away.

Ambiguity is a fine enough state of affairs, one that suits the Faun just fine.  He follows the intricate rhythm through the percussion of hooves against the earth.  The seeming that he's called twines melody into the rhythm, an wild desert wind skirling over desert sands and bare stone.  He plays of wide rivers, flocks of ibis of blue and red and white and grey, and of broad sandy plains baked in a heat of the southern sun.

While the seeming plays, the Faun dances alongside Nwofia, tapping out his own staccato beat in echo to hers.  Perhaps his dancing suffers a bit for all that he's tending the seeming that accompanies their dancing.  Still, he's the consummate partner, as intimate in his brief touches to support her at movements as if she were the sea he the shore.

Soon enough, the music of his seeming concludes and the Faun leads her to pause in the pas-de-deux.  To her whisper, he replies lowly in his rich baritone, "Taking one's first step away from home is often longer than journeying the remainder of a lifetime.  She'll have to find her own path, I think."

In any case, Topaz is not entirely free to act here.  Though he's come as a performer rather than embassy, the two roles are never entirely separate for him.  Further, he recognizes the role of provocateur the fox plays, often playing it himself on behalf of his court, but intervening here would be a deep breach of the gift of hospitality his folk and the Elves have long extended to one another.  He bows to his partner slightly, offering his hand.  "Shall we stroll and take the night air?"

Nwofia nods and takes Topaz' hand, ready for that stroll and hoping for somewhere to talk more quietly.

Elven family relationships are much more complex than Human ones.  This is especially true with the Black Forest Elves, where a small population and the Queen's policy of switching consorts regularly has linked up most of the Elves in a tangled web.  Their long lives play a role.  For a Human family, four generations alive at the same time is a rare event.  For Elves, it is common, and five and six are common as well, and even more.  What's more, the Elves do not decline quickly with the passage of time, so that while Human great grandparents can be expected to be in the twilight of their years, Elven great grandparents, and their parents and grandparents, are still in the prime of health.

So it is that for Human, the Parent-Child relationship changes when Grandparents are around, and generally in the favor of the Child.  For Elves, with ancestors four more generations back being present to lend their advice (asked or not) the relationship is a delicate dance of balancing centuries of family sensibilities.  From an Elf point of view, a Human family exists in a simplified social vacuum.  For Elves, a jungle.

Every Elf learns, sooner or later:  Nothing is ever truly over, because there are always more family members with opinions to consider.

Most Elves learn, it becomes all too difficult to track, best to just go with what custom teaches.  Irkayo falls into this category.  Tradition is not to be questioned.
Tradition says, when there is no reason not to, then live in the moment.  And Alayna clearly understands the situation.

"When you come back I will still be here," Irkayo says to Alayna.  "I am not going anywhere."

He gestures to the network of catwalks and platforms through the trees.

"When this place was made," he tells her, "it was thought, if the Elves of the region were ever in great threat, we would gather here to make our stand.  So it was made to be home to all of us, when we needed it.  Most of it isn't used.  If you don't want to go back to your camp, there is room enough here.  We could spend the night."

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

Meanwhile...

Celeste Argentos welcomes Marcos back to the camp.

"It's always like this with performers," she says.  "Strong willed.  Especially young ones.  It goes with the territory, I suppose.  If they weren't, they wouldn't be here.  They'd be home planting cabbages or something like that.  Not that... not that it's a bad thing to plant cabbages, if that's what you want to do.. I can't see it, though.

"My parents were talking about the show tomorrow.  And I told them what the Fox and the Elves were talking about.  Beings like Vulenk are very rare and very special.  They're old and wise like... well Elder Dragons would never admit it, but they don't have a monopoly on Wisdom.  He's trying to do something.  He needs the Elves to rekindle a desire to see the world.  I think it's more than just a whim.  The push is all too obvious, the motive is what he's keeping hidden. I really wish everyone was back, it's going to be a..an interesting day tomorrow."

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

Celeste wasn't the only one considering Vulenk's motive.  While Vulenk's plan wasn't deliberately aimed at Siankiir, her mother knew it might well have been, because young Elves sometimes take a long time to subdue the sense of wanderlust that tempts them to leave home.

Siankiir is reminded that Black Forest Elves are few.  The whole population of the Black Forest could be housed in a Human city, though surely they would have it.  And Human cities were so many, no one could name them all.  That is why the Black Forest Elves lived here and protected their homes and their ways fiercely.  Unlike the innumerable Humans, there was no second choice for them.  If they didn't hold this one place, they'd have nothing, and their legacy would vanish.

They can hear a few other Elves debate this, as the other Elves are leaving, trickling away into the night.  Everyone knows the Fox's intent.  It was clear.

But Why?

Marcos finished his current preparations and put his tools away. He left vague instructions for his mechanical friend to fold and lay out costumes for the next days performances.

Then headed to Celeste Argentos' location.
tis a fine evening and the hospitality is not what I expected while visiting nobility and royalty. But I am sure you did not have small talk o. Your mind.

Did you have some ideas on how I can add to the performances tomorrow morning?

Marcos had been telling his companions and fellow preformers that there was more he could do to support each of the preformers in thier performances. He hoped that this would lead to some truly spectacular and collaboration.

In reply to Nwofia Barandi (msg # 248):

Topaz takes Nwofia's offered hand and leads her in his best promenade fashion along the shadowed ways, enjoying the dappling of moonlight that leaks through the trees.  He regards Nwofia, pricking ears neither entirely caprine nor humanoid along with his gaze.  In his mellifluous baritone, he asks, "What shall we discuss, Nwofia?  Elves and their reluctance to wander, tomorrow's performance, Vulenk the Fox, or perhaps the beauty of stars and moonlight on the moss?"

While they walk onward easily together, the Faun falls into silence, listening to the night, the sounds of their footfalls, and Nwofia's breathing.  While he says nothing, his tail wags occasionally in syncopated and broken rhythm behind him.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Wed 15 July 2020.

"I'm supposed to keep my ideas out of it," Celeste says with a slightly annoyed shrug.  "Too composed, too classical, those were my father's words.  Not exactly.  He didn't say 'too', he implied it.  He said we should go far from what the Elves know, and the Elves know composed and classical.  I think... he is going to want to center things around Nwofia, because she is the most exotic person we have.  From the Elf point of view.  You would be exotic if we were performing for the Franks, so would Topaz, but here... Elves have seen Gnomes, and Fauns.  So it's Nwofia at center stage."

Celeste looks off into the forested distance and adds, "She should be back.  They're not children, I'm not going to go fetch them."

Through it all, Marcos's Golem Assistant Jolo has been quietly working.  All of Marcos's clothing is clean and neatly folded...again... and Jolo seems extraordinarily proud of it.

Alayna looked at the pretty lights below, the stars above, then to Irkayo.

"I... I should go back, but I do not wish to. Yes, I would like... like to stay," she stated, blushing.

Nwofia walked beside Topaz through the highways and byways, the holloways and shadow ways around the village, hand in hand and enjoying silence until at last she said, "All of those things we should discuss although I meant the reluctance of elves to leave.  Surely that makes them vulnerable?"

They said nothing, mother and daughter, on the way back to their home.  Neither reassurances that she was only concerned for her child's welfare nor hollow promises that the younger would acquiesce to her parent's wisdom.

Something was in the air.  Both Siankiir and Ualiar knew it -- and neither wanted to tip their hand.

Marcos looked pensive for a moment. Then asked Celeste...

Well I have a few ideas that could be interesting. Some are not composed, some are classical, neither are both and a few are neither.

One direction would use bending and twisting the perception of reality. Traveling into the twilight zone. Where all tethers to reality fall away.

Another direction would be shocking and abrasive, it is more appropriate for the working class.

A stroll through a lovely place is a worthwhile reason to go walking all of its own.  Topaz is quite happy to walk along with Nwofia.  When she presents her topic, though, he pauses, thoughtful.  "In some ways, it might. In others not so much, perhaps."

He's uncertain how much she knows about the Elves, the special magics they create and protect, their ways of life.  He's not even really sure where to start, but he gives it a go.  "The Elves, well, they live very long lives.  That's the most obvious thing.  If we were to meet everyone here, we'd likely meet someone who remembers when Romans first came into Gaul, or met Gaius Julius of the Caesarii in person.  The Queen, well, she may be old enough herself to recall the time of Alexander.  It's not polite to ask."

"To most people," the Faun says a mite sadly, "those are things from an almost mythic time.  To the Elves, those things, and the collapse of their lands to the forest we're in now happened in just a couple of generations.  Humans scare them a bit, you see.  You move so quickly and change the world at such a dazzling pace.  Languages, gods, cultures, magics all rise, age, and die ... and are replaced multiple times in less than one of their lifetimes.  This causes many to have sort of a depression about existing, ennui, if you will.  When it hits one of them terribly, they will show age like any being.  How long one of them might live without such concerns is anyone's guess."

He adds, "They also have very few children any given handful of years.  Any child among them is ... exceedingly ... precious.  The older Elves who remember what came before fear the loss of every child.  There are less every generation and they don't know how to stop that, so they've retreated here to at least slow the dwindling."

Topaz has grown quiet through the course of his short monologue, introspective perhaps.  The topic touches all too closely to home for him.  Great and precious things eons old had been lost irrecoverably in the last few decades, replaced by things new and uncertain.  "It's not my place, here and now at least, to convince a parent to release her child, nor the child to disobey her parent," he says somewhat wisfully.  "That, I think, has already been decided.  There is another question one might wonder at.  Why did the Queen, in her wisdom, bring the outside world in?  She's knows it will cause the change her folk have so long been avoiding.  Maybe that's something we can speak to in our performance?"

"I'm sure my parents will be planning something, they'll probably have a discussion tomorrow about the show, and get our ideas together," Celeste tells Marcos.

Eventually, she went back to her wagon because she understood that being well rested was important.  She hoped the others would reach the same conclusion... but "show people" were of their own minds.  No use trying to herd them in.

But the following day is in a new thread:  Performance for the Elf Queen