Following all the wizard Mazzahs had revealed to them, Nineve found herself in an entirely pensive mood, the cheerful air within the village notwithstanding.   Upon entering, she was hailed by the nearby Yllasys, in company of Oloric, and placed her thoughts aside as she joined them.

Taking a seat, she replied in their native Elvish with the faint arch of a brow, "Is that so, First? 'Remain here' is a bit vague in terms of conditions and time.  And surely, dependent on these tasks you mention?"     She waited to hear what they were.

Having earlier filled one of his pouches with the stars of the night sky, the bibulous Barnabus decides that he's earned himself a reward of a tannic nature. After a knowing nod toward Norbert, no doubt getting into the nitty gritty of his expanding import/export enterprise with the provincial provisioner, he lopes across the tavern floor and settles down at the table of his superiors.

"What ho," he offers, tentatively, aware that his stock is selling at a pretty low price these days -- the stock of a bumptious priest of Impurax, it must be admitted, not exactly known for obtaining great heights.

OOC
Buy the missing gems for the star chamber.

Bollo gives the mage a smile. Reaching beneath the bar, he retrieves an unopened bottle of wine and two long stemmed glasses. He hands both to Malivoire. Nodding toward the rear of the taproom, he says, ”Through the door just left of where Mazzahs and Brother Othar are seated. Dinner will be served in a short while.”

Following the innkeeper’s directions, Malivoire steps through the indicated door.

A round table sits in the center of the small, warmly lit room. It is covered with an ivory colored tablecloth, wound through and trimmed with silver thread. It has been set for two, the utensils made of genuine silver. A pair of finely wrought silver candlesticks occupy the center of the table. As Malivoire enters, he finds Taycee lighting one of the candles with the other.

By any estimation, she is a vision. She wears a dark green, off the shoulder dress. A thin gold necklace from which hangs a teardrop cut yellow sapphire encircles her neck. Her red hair is drawn away from her face, reaching her shoulders in soft waves.

Taycee clasps her hands behind her back, smiling at Malivoire shyly. ”Billworth Turgen helped me find the dress. Harnald was kind enough to lend me the necklace.”

“The tablecloth belonged to Urgritte’s grandmother and the silver was Merida’s father’s. The candlesticks…I made. Almost a year ago. I never had reason to use them until now.”

“I hope you like it.”

”I had occasion to speak with Mazzahs not long after the lizard folk departed,” the First explains, ”He told me that those who have braved the Barrowmaze had retrieved a tablet, one that was authored by the Briar Queen herself. He said that you had expressed a willingness to assist in returning it to the guardians from which it came.”

“He also spoke to me of Varghoulis.”

She sighs, an uncharacteristically pensive frown creasing her brow. ”All of the unrest that has touched these lands of late has found its origin within those ancient tombs. I fear that perhaps our people have been complacent about what dwells there. What awakens there. Mazzahs has wisely discerned the danger it represents.”

“While seeing the tablet returned to its place is assuredly a divine obligation for you, I wonder if you entering those tombs, and assisting these adventurers, might also be part of the Queen’s calling? I think it right that we of the Thornswild aid in unraveling the secrets of that terrible place, and you are among the most able of us.”

Reaching into a pouch on her belt, she draws out a necklace, a lone emerald encircled in strands of silver hanging from the chain. She slides it across the table to Nineve.

The table falls briefly silent at Barnabus’ arrival. Brother Othar clears his throat. ”This is Barnabus,” he explains by way of introdction to Derica and Sidonie, ”One of the first to answer Mazzahs’ summons. He has been responsible for locating many important artifacts within the catacombs, which have been invaluable in gaining an understanding of what is at work there.”

”We are indebted to you for your service, Barnabus,” Lady Sidonie says, ”There are few that possess the courage to set foot in that terrible place and the wiles to survive its dangers.”

She regards him momentarily. ”You are a priest, yes? If I recall correctly, Mazzahs indicated that you serve the Lord of Decay.”

Even a silence no longer than the final guttering of a candle can speak volumes, for Barnabus immediately knows he has sat himself down at the wrong table. This one, although not exactly desingated as such, was for the adults. His place was with Norbert and Billworth.

"Ah, so, she's not so terrible when you get to know her, the Barrowmaze, that is. She can't be blamed for what others have done to her. Still has some lovely tombs and crypts, she does. You should see the one she's reserved for the Briar Queen."

Lady Torringcroft's question then registers with him. Swiveling a bit towards her eminence, he fingers the waxen effigy of a decaying raven's head that serves as his holy symbol.

"Yes, she gives me away, doesn't she? Not all that popular in these parts, I've been made to understand."

"There are some," he says, his voice growing solemn, "who have abandoned the old prejudices and embrace the principles of Decay and Enervation and Incineration. I like to think I make a daily practice of those fine virtues."

"Ah," responded Nineve to Yllasys, "It is the very same things that occupy my thoughts, then.  I didn't realize you'd also spoken to Mazzahs, and was some concerned that somebody else had requested my aid with other things, when, to be perfectly honest, I know what I must do." 

She glanced down at the necklace, not touching it yet, reckoning it to have some quality beyond its fine aesthetics.  She didn't question, certain the First would explain, but instead said:

"What you've said echoes my own feelings on the matter.  This group has garnered the Lady's favor, and that one of Her own has arrived here I do not believe to be any happenstance.  More, I hope that I may be able to encourage those who guard that tablet to explain some things they did not in the first meeting with them."   Nineve paused there, the prospect of such an encounter being fate heavy and intimidating.  As she'd alluded at the meeting, elven undead were words virtually exclusive.  Sick, power-maddened humans sought such states, not wise and benevolent members of her own folk. Not in any but the most dire of situations.

"And more broadly, I agree it is time, past time,  for us to offer our assistance, before it's too late and the consequences blight us all."  She inclined her head then. "Thank you for your confidence in me, Yllasys First. Like the humans of Helix, we too are blessed with excellent leadership. I'll do all in my power to be worthy of your trust."   
This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Mon 02 Oct 2023.

Malivoire deftly grasped the neck of the wine bottle in one hand and the glasses in his other.  "Thank you again Bollo," he nodded gratefully, hoping his voice didn't actually tremble as much as he imagined it did.  He tried to think of a complimentary phrase to give to Taycee right off the bat, but the walk across the room to the private chamber was too short.  Balancing his handfuls carefully, he stepped through the door and closed it again, his back to the intimate scene.  Then he turned around.

"I've brought," he started, then trailed off in stunned silence.  The glint of silver from the candlesticks, the utensils, and even the tablecloth shone in the warm light.  He'd not seen such finery in Helix the whole time he'd been here.  And the whole arrangement paled in comparison to Taycee, bedecked in green and gold and looking as beautiful as the sunrise over a freshly dewed meadow.  When he heard where all the beautiful elements had come from Malivoire was struck by the effort Taycee and all her friends had invested in this moment.  The weight of it was daunting, but it lit a warm fire in his core like nothing he'd ever felt before.

He suddenly realized his mouth was still hanging open and hastily clamped it shut, blushing in the process.  "It's incredible," he finally managed.  "Perfect.  You are just...perfect."

Having recovered himself somewhat, Malivoire approached the table and set down the wine and glasses.  "I've brought wine, courtesy of Bollo.  An excellent vintage, I've no doubt." He paused to soak in the vision of Taycee for another moment, then moved around to her side of the table.  Grasping her chair, he smiled and inclined his head.  "If you would take a seat, my lady?"

”That is so,” Sidonie agrees with a nod, her words direct, ”I know that the guard once undertook to exterminate those that venerated Impurax here in the Duchy, and to make a ruin of the temple they built.”

She frowns. ”I believe that part of what drove those actions was the belief among many that the veneration of Impurax was actually a disguised worship of the ancient underworld god Nergal. His cult, as you doubtlessly know, caused great terror here. Those suspicions were likely deepened by the fact that the religion of the Lord of Decay grew prominent here shortly after  Nergal’s followers had gone into hiding.”

“Even so, death is an inevitable part of the cycle of nature. It requires respect.”

”Perhaps the greatest concern of all of the discoveries which Barnabus and his companions have made is evidence that the worship of Nergal continues,” Mazzahs says, taking a sip of ale.

”You have already proven worthy of that trust, Nineve. It gladdens me to know that you share my convictions,” Yllasys says.

”Forgive me if I sound fearful for a moment, but I must confess that the possibility that Nergal could somehow return, that his power could be visited on this world again, haunts me. I am well versed in the history of the time when the Master of the Underworld was ascendant. His evil caused harm that required generations of our people to reverse. We cannot allow that darkness to awaken anew.”

The First points to the necklace. ”This amulet serves two functions. While wearing it, it will enable you to send brief messages to me. It has sufficient power to allow you to do so twice every seven days. If you learn of anything of importance in your explorations, please utilize the necklace to alert me. Being aware of what you know will inform me of when I need to consult with Mazzahs, Othar, and the Duke. In essence, you will serve as the eyes of our people with regard to this threat.”

“The magic that rests within the stone is always active, however. It will give a continuous boon to your efforts as you oppose the dead who will not rest.”

Taycee smiles, her eyes watering. ”I’m so happy you like everything. I wanted this to be…special.”

She blinks in surprise as the mage pulls out her chair. She laughs. ”I’m sorry. I suppose I’m just very used to being the one who does the serving.” She sits. ”Thank you.”

The wine is, unsurprisingly, exceptional. Bollo knocks politely, delivering a warm loaf of bread and freshly churned butter, stating that dinner will arrive shortly before departing.

Putting her glass down, Taycee speaks quietly. ”May I tell you something? I hope you know that many of us who live here in Helix, we are so thankful for the courage you and your companions have. How you risk yourselves to protect all of us from those terrible things on the moor.”

“But…you have really become one of us. You have taken the time to know so many of us, like me and Bollo. Merida and Urgritte. You care about people as individuals. As friends.”

“It’s one of the things I like most about you.” She blushes, looking down at her glass.

Ynes steps into the tavern, grinning at the celebratory atmosphere that lingers over the gathering. After accepting a tankard of ale from Merida, she makes her way to Guildmaster Oren’s table. Welcomed warmly, she takes an empty seat, joining in the conversation with the hirelings and mercenaries.

"You've conjured a miracle, have no fear," Malivoire confirmed, smiling back in delight.

When Taycee asked to tell him her thoughts he nodded encouragingly, finishing his sip of wine and leaning forward slightly, eyes locked on hers.  As the nature of her compliment became evident he mirrored her blush, and reached out to take her hand when she shyly looked downward.

"I appreciate that, I really do.  I know how it feels to be dismissed as insignificant by others, neighbours, acquaintances and so-called friends.  I would not wish that on anyone, and so I do try to treat everyone equally.  In the end we are all just people locked in the same struggles, so how can we not look after each other?"

"I am glad that many of my companions are similarly inclined.  It seems we are having a positive effect," he said, referencing Taycee's own observations.

He suddenly looked guilty and said, "Although, I haven't treated everyone equally, to be honest.  There's this one girl in town.  I kind of, well, I give her a little extra attention.  I know it's selfish, but I can't help myself.  I just want to make her happy."

He winked as he broke the small charade and laughed lightly.  "And I don't really feel guilty about it at all.  I suppose I am a hypocrite, in the end."

"Aye," she replied to Yllasys, as regards the threat posed by Nergal. "What Mazzahs revealed is wholly disturbing, especially as it speaks to terrors of the past.  If I could afford not to sleep soundly, in the nights ahead, I'm sure I wouldn't.  Still, we can thank Gods, Spirits and Ancestors that the warning arrived no later than it did."   

She reached for the necklace then, and slipped it over her head, with the stone settling beneath where she wore the Briar Queen's sigil. "Thank you. I will be certain to report to you any occurrences and facts you need to know. And as far as boons, I'll gladly accept any that can be had."

Since entering into the Goddess' service, hers had been a life of service.  That wasn't new.  But the stakes in this were monstrously high.  It wasn't in her nature to self-deceive, and she in nowise kidded herself that she was unafraid.  But fear could be an ally, if not a friend; the sort that goaded one to rise to the occasion and not miss any small but meaningful details.  And much like boons, she'd take whatever allies she could get.

Dead sober, Barnabus regards the new lady in town and her apologia. For once, he chooses to be diplomatic: "They were in error. I pray they make a study of that error."

"I wonder," he adds, scratching his head, "if my brothers only felt it was safe enough to emerge after Nergal had had has hiding. No way to find out. We're not necromancers; we neither speak with the dead nor stir their bones."


"Oh, dearest patron, you speak as if we had found a flyer advertising a Greatest God of the Dead Get Together. No, it's all rather dispositive at this point. The only question is when we will consider ourselves ready for an assault on his temple -- one that won't be in error."

Sir Dryvyk entered the Brazen Strumpet flanked closely by his squires. They saw the place was filled and though there were some seats available at the back table with Lady Derica and the rest, the Knight decided to join Windroot and the Guildmaster after an awkward moment of hesitation. The squires pulled up chairs and they crowded in, graciously thanking those at the table for their hospitality in letting them join. Sir Dryvyk, looking pale and drawn as he often did, asked for a meal with an extra portion of meat, cooked rare, and a pitcher of spring water.

The Knight nodded and smiled and made appropriate comments at all the right times as the conversations around the table were made. He often glanced over at the back table where it appeared Barnabus was entertaining the town hierarchy, but it was not the odd priest Sir Dryvyk was interested in. Whenever Lady Ironguard happened to catch his gaze, he would quickly turn his attention back to the platter of food before him.

After a long while he finally stood and rapped his gauntlet upon his breastplate to gather everyone's attention.

"Though tragedy of late has been heavy on our hearts, this has been a good day in Helix. I've been reminded of late that it takes the hard days, often piling atop one another over and over, to appreciate the victories and triumphs! So here's to something good happening in Helix!" Sir Dryvyk held up his tankard of cool spring water in toast.

"And here's to Lady Ironguard, may The Righteous One enlighten her mind and brighten her blade!"

Taycee gives Malivoire a smile of pure joy. Reaching across the table, she clasps both of his hands in hers. ”You’re not a hypocrite. Not at all.”

“And this girl you speak of? I can promise you, you’ve made her gloriously happy.”

”I do not say this lightly,” the First tells Nineve solemnly, ”I am proud to have you among us. I know that I am not alone in saying that I have tremendous admiration for your courage.” At this, Oloric nods in agreement.

”Be wary. We have faced many foes in the woods and marshes, creatures intent on conquest, on the destruction of our people. But even I have not contended with the likes of that which dwells within those tombs. It is an evil that is ageless. Unfathomably cunning. Always be on your guard. I have no doubt that the Briar Queen accompanies you on this undertaking. She will see you safely returned to us.”

”I share that hope,” Sidonie says, in answer to Barnabus, ”though I worry that there are some still among us who believe those acts to have been justified.”

”I do not doubt your courage, Barnabus. Not at all,” Mazzahs says with a smile, ”but continue to be vigilant…and wise. If there is a chance that Nergal might return, or that his power might be wielded by another, we all face inestimable peril. You and those who accompany you remain our strongest guard against that danger. Do not underestimate the cleverness of your adversaries.”

Derica Ironguard smiles at Sir Dryvyk’s toast, even as her cheeks flush. ”My thanks to you, Sir,” she tells the knight when he returns to the table, ”I hope I prove worthy of your confidence. I have never been tasked with safeguarding a community such as this. These are all good people. I feel the weight of the responsibility.”

“But my task is not as great as yours and your compatriots. Take care, Dryvyk. Please. My prayers will be with you.”

And somewhere deep within the darkness below the moors, Ascyet Vie Yannarg, First among the Priesthood of Nergal, Keeper of the Tablet, and Master of the Undead, opened his eyes.