middaeg | An Early and Mid-Ieneuer Variety Post

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An Early and Mid-Ieneuer Variety Post

Who: Elidibus and you, Elidibus and Myrobalan Shivana, Elidibus and Jin Zixuan. (Closed or Open will be marked)
When: First Half of Ieneuer/January with some overlap to second Half
Where: Various Aefenglom Locales
What: Cult Observations, New Moon, Other Adventures or Casual Encounters
Warnings: Elidibus is a very cunning liar (both outright lies and truth by omission) and has no conscience about doing so to meet his goals and manipulate others. But he's also balancing this with an altruistic persona of 'Ardbert'. Other warnings to be updated as scenes progress.

i. New Moon (First New Moon!) - OPEN

Surely the onset of the new moon would be good reason to turn to pure study side of magic rather than practical. And that, Elidibus would say if it came up, is where one would be foolish not to take an opportunity to learn how to maintain spell work and control during a phase when they would be in their most powerful state. Routine practice is the key to establishing a good foundation.

Of course, this also shouldn't be done in an inappropriate location. That is why arrangements have been made, through trade of work or money earned or a combination of both. A wide area, indoors or out, with proper strong barriers provided by a scroll fashioned by a practiced Coven witch at their own height of lunar-infused power. It would keep spell craft where it belongs; properly within the arena and only a danger to the caster. Or anyone who dared join him.

You could be someone known to him and giving lesson or suggestions, even joining in on practice. Someone observing, or someone who heard the noise and was curious enough to investigate. There are ways to peek inside, though there would be signs warning of what's going on. Would you cross the line of the barriers- they are focused on keeping magic from ruining the outside world, not to keep people from passing through- to get a better view?

Elidibus is a man dressed as a warrior clad in leathers, scales and fur and with him is a massive axe. Very massive. And in this case, it's in use. Practicing magic? Well... yes, but why not technique at the same time? Holding the weapon in two hands before him, incantations are spoken, seeking to fuse magic into the blade as an enchantment. Whether it is the lack of time in Aefenglom to be fully under the sway of the new moon, or a prodigy in the making- perhaps a mix of these- the are few moments in which he loses control, relatively speaking. He's been preparing himself for this moment. And with recent events, a Bond he's recently made and likely not spoken of, this type of magic has come a bit... easier still.

But it still takes him no less than three tries to get a proper weaving with the correct level of magic energy. Two more to have the magic stick. His eyes close briefly to calm himself and gather his stamina. The axe, switched to one hand with the axe head very nearly touching the ground, seems held effortlessly despite its weight. It is no spell, other than the bare bones, mild enchantment on the weapon itself, but a tribute to the mortal body's strength. There are targets at the other end. Wood and densely packed straw, of course. Even a boulder, but it is the straw target that is aimed for first as he runs down the lane. The swing upward scrapes against the ground but is not slowed, even though an impressive scrape is left along the training ground. The weight of the axe and the angle of his body allow him to bring it around full force from the side.

The enchantment lasts until just after the swing cleanly cuts off the top of the straw like so much butter. As Elidibus spins around and brings it down overhand, it begins to carve from top down, though not nearly so finely. Oh there's no real stopping it, but the cut is ragged. Elidibus halts, bracing himself and using his other hand to keep his balance before jerking the axe clear. It would be evident that he stopped the flow of action, that there should have been more, but the lack of perceived success- maintaining the enchantment throughout the exercise- was seen as a reason not to continue.

A scroll is drawn out and words read off. The straw dummy restores itself. Though Elidibus' expression is grim and worn with the effort, it is not without determination. No time spent cursing, just a read of the restoration, putting away the scroll and stepping back to the starting point to try again.

The fact that as the new moon's influence wanes, this training will take a step back does not phase him. For now, he simply pushes forward. Or intends to, anyway. Various scorch marks of raw magic around the arena, particularly near the starting point, suggests he's already been at this awhile, to the assessment of those just arriving.

ii. Elidibus and Myrobalan Shivana (Cult Shenanigans) - CLOSED

Coming and going of cultists from meetings has been an interesting watch for Elidibus of late. Where they go, who they pair up with. And even what they are. There is a sense that something more than honest fervor is going on. He knows what to look for. He's whispered lies and half truths, guided and manipulated for eons. The speed in which one goes from doubting soul to staunch supporters of the Circle is more of the speed in which a mortal's aether can be enthralled by a Primal. Something... unnatural in its speed.

He has read several bestiaries by now. He knows the common traits of monsters, so when fauns are seen amongst the faithful, especially the most faithful, this is of particular interest to him. Are they truly enthralled? Do they pretend, or is someone making absolutely certain they are in this cult's sway. Elidibus was not going to approach them at first. But then, something changed and he espied a blind faun. It was an advantage, that the faun would not be able to visually recognize him and tell others whom to look out for it a discussion took a turn for the worst.

One day on Myr's path home- because yes, Elidibus did watch for a pattern for a day or so- when the faun was alone, there would be a quiet stretch of his journey wherein the sound of footfalls can be heard, just after the creak of a wooden post which Elidibus pushed himself away from before approach. "I would have a moment of your time, faun."

The voice is that of Elidibus himself, not his persona as "Ardbert. There is little outward emotion attached; a simple, calm politeness for the sake of civility. It is neither 'good' nor 'evil'. Elidibus stops his approach an appropriate distance away. The sound of the last footfall coming to a rest does suggest he is not blocking Myr's way. The faun can choose to move on, or not.

iii. Elidibus and Jin Zixuan (Cult Shenannigans) - CLOSED

Elidibus has been a presence for a few days. And it's not as though he'd been unaware that people here could actually see or hear or touch him. It shows in the places he waits. On a balcony he gained access to, casually leaning against the rail while eating an apple and watching the movements of those leaving a Circle meeting below. Or on ground level, turning from one road onto another that just happens to follow the route of some well-to-do cultists homeward. It's subtle enough. Mayhap even with the help of some purchased spell scroll to nullify detection, on occasion.

But he does not yet have the funds to do it every single time. Nor the skill to cast the spell on his own... yet. Still, there is the need for mundane practice. Today is one such day. And while he chose some people who were returning- on foot as carriages were difficult to follow without a spell to keep it from being exceedingly obvious- there are subtle clues to spot for the astute.

Like when the cloaked 'warrior' doesn't just continue on 'his' route when the group turns to another road. Rather a few steps later he momentarily pauses, as if calculating where to intersect them, before continuing forth and turning off a little further on. It was truly brief. Not everyone might have caught it. Yet, if someone keen of eye were watching. Or mayhap had noticed the tail begin on them and backtracked a bit to watch the suspect's actions once they turned on another road...

iv. Cult Observations - OPEN Elidibus does not plan to get deeply involved, being too cautious and new to Aefenglom. So no infiltration, no going out of the city without due preparation. But he is keen on collecting information. Eavesdropping anyone observed to be sneaking around (though not trying to eavesdrop directly ON the meetings), looking through records. Since he can no longer do this the old fashioned way (completely invisible to nearly everyone and just listening where he pleases), Elidibus, or 'Ardbert' as he's more publicly known, will be in a position to be seen or encountered. Or does he see you doing similar information gathering?

v. Other Exciting Adventures - OPEN Please contact Elidibus or PM through Discord Everyworker#8128 if you want to propose a scene or brainstorm a scene. I'm generally game for most any interactions! (e.g. though many of the above examples are serious tones, more casual scene ideas are welcome).

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jin Zixuan had started his 'investigation' of sorts under the direction of the Coven, but the more meetings he attended, the more he started to understand the Evergreen Circle's perspective and their mission to save Geardagas. He wouldn't begin to claim to be an expert on the phenomenon that has plagued this world, but why should they not study the Cwyld? To attempt to understand it better, so that it can be used to their benefit instead of their detriment? Surely that would be better than expending all your futile efforts to simply beat it back from the gates of the city?

(He has no idea, of course, that this level of understanding he has achieved may have been, ahem, helped along by certain Circle witches.)

He finds himself among like minds in the Circle, and enjoys the times he spends with them. As such, when their meetings conclude, he lingers among his Circle comrades and takes perhaps a longer route home than is strictly necessary, talking in low, reverent voices about the brilliance of Cillian Alder's words that day. Ever vigilant, Jin Zixuan keeps his eyes open as they walk, knowing that the Circle has enemies everywhere. Thankfully, his keen harpy eyesight make spotting patterns as easy as taking a breath, so when the same cloaked figure appears to have followed their group from the main thoroughfare onto a smaller side street, Zixuan's attention is flagged.

Being the cocky showboat that he is, he decides to fend with this follower himself, and tells his Circle friends to continue on their way, he will take a different route home and meet up with them again at the next meeting. Instead of heading home, however, he ducks down an alley between two buildings, counting on their tail to follow the more well to do Circle members, and takes flight, ascending to the rooftops to follow their pursuer's path from above.

Fend away. And today, that is an armed cloak warrior, sporting a massive battle axe on his back that is nearly as high as himself. Well, armed individuals aren't unusual, but it's something to consider.

Elidibus has taken another road, but his calculation seems to be impressively accurate. He'll arrive a little while after those comrades past, glance their way briefly and continue forward, rather than turn to immediately follow. He intends to weave closer and overtake, finding a discreet high ground or dusky corner to catch parts of the conversation eventually. There's a moment where his steps slow before he passes through the crossroad. He then steps briskly on.

It's not that he's spotted Jin Zixuan by any means. It's that the vibrantly colored Mirrorbound harpy is no longer with the group. Elidibus is no fool to allow such an obvious departure from the group to be dismissed by simple coincidence. Where he had once been likely to follow the Circle members, he now seems to be picking a route that will take him back to far more public, crowded roads.

Zixuan will have time to act if he wishes to confront the man. Elidibus is limited by not being too obvious, given there's still a chance that the harpy had simply broken from his companions for reasons other than spying a tail.

Interesting. Zixuan notes the pause in his step, the way he peels off from his original tail and heads in a direction with more crowds, more people to lose himself in.

Very interesting.

Of course, he won't be able to hide from Zixuan's sight, eyes focused in on him from above. He parallels the man's movement down the public road, realizing quickly that it must be him that the man is searching for. After all, with bright green feathers and robes of the finest gold silk, he does look rather conspicuous. Of course his absence would be noted. Oh, but this only makes their inevitable meeting that much more thrilling. It has been months since Zixuan was on a proper hunt. And while this isn't quite the same as going night hunting with other Lanling Jin disciples, it does feel nostalgic for Zixuan.

He follows long enough to get a sense of the man's general targeted direction, then lifts off the rooftops and flies ahead, being sure to fly low and slow enough that the man has no choice but to notice him. He coasts over to a small stone bridge connecting two sides of a small drainage ditch, sandwiched between rows of tall buildings on either side. A quiet enough place for a confrontation. He grasps Suihua's hilt tightly in his talonlike hand, not drawing the sword yet, but taking comfort in it's reassuring presence.

Edited 2021-01-18 19:59 (UTC)

Searching for or looking to prevent an ambush by taking to the crowds. Escaping a harpy's sight, Elidibus knows, would be a challenging task in the best of circumstances. At least, not without the handle he'd once had on teleportation magicks before coming to this wretched Star.

No need to belabor what he simply does not have. And though it is true he kept an eye out for the harpy, when Zixuan made a purposeful display of greens and golds, Elidibus pauses long enough to look up and follow his progress. There is no surprise in his expression. But there is a half smile toward how clearly it is 'said' that an encounter is not to be avoided. He says something.

"If you insist." It's a casual, almost good natured tone, spoken at conversational level. Depending on the acuity of Zixuan's hearing and how low his flight truly is, it may even be heard. Regardless, Elidibus moves forward and does nothing to avoid the fated bridge. He's rarely one to avoid discourse.

The man takes his time to assess the area approached. Tall buildings, no witnesses thus far. A small bridge and a harpy, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Elidibus himself shows no sign of reaching for his own, pausing a number of steps away, yet still on the bridge. After a stray glance toward Zixuan's weapon, the warrior speaks.

"I do hope your invitation meant you wish to speak, good sir." See? Certainly civil. Almost friendly. But a sharp, blue-eye gaze is knowing and watchful. Elidibus doesn't show indication that he intends to hide what is obviously known by the both of them. He had been following.

He knew he would come. He hadn't been sure, when he left the rooftops, but hearing that confirmation and then seeing the man stride up to the secluded bridge gives Zixuan a sort of smug satisfaction.

And-- to be fair, the only reason his hand is on his sword is just that it is not customary for him to carry his sword on any sort of belt or strap. Most cultivators where he comes from simply keep hold of their swords in their off hand, then draw them whenever they need to fight.

Which he hopes he will not have to do here.

"Was that your intention for following us? To speak with us?" His tone is accusatory, but still smug, as though he's figured out something that the other party doesn't know. Of course, he hasn't. He's only making snap judgements of someone based on observing their general appearance and some of their behavior for the past however many minutes since he noticed the man tailing them.

It's definitely a reasonable explanation. Elidibus may have simply spoke on the matter to set the tone. Break the ice if you will.

"Not necessarily I admit," the man offers with a light tone that belies the seriousness of their standoff. He keeps his arms at his sides. After all, given he might be a witch, any gesture could have implications.

"Rather, I wanted to observe. Whether it would be prudent to speak to you and your comrades or if I would learn what I wanted from your conversations." His tone is modulated to profess mild humor. "I hope you will find it reasonable to be somewhat cautious in the face of your Circle's ideas."

None of it is a lie. He did plan to observe. He would have approached if it proved the best option. He has no problem admitting he was planning to eavesdrop. And oddly, he does truly mean that he hopes Zixuan would find it reasonable to be cautious, given how differing the Circle is from the attitude in most of the city. He doesn't expect it to be found reasonable. Mortals rarely are calm about these sorts of matters.

Jin Zixuan scoffs. "Only the lowest sort of man would admit that his intent was to eavesdrop on others." Such a thing shows a level of cowardice that Jin Zixuan wholly detests. Sure, he has learned plenty of information by eavesdropping on sensitive conversations happening around him-- such things were common practice in Carp Tower-- but he would never admit to it. Shameless acts were to be done in secret, or with as much discretion as one could muster. It was an unspoken rule in Zixuan's society that one did not talk about the unseemly deeds that rose them to their current status.

And Heaven knows the Lanling Jin had their fair share of unseemly deeds.

"Well? What is the result of your observation? Have you come to any satisfying conclusions?

"Those who made such rules have likely not," Elidibus offers dryly, "had to deal with harpies in Aefenglom." Your claims of cowardice and lacking manners have no effect on the man confronted, Zixuan, other than to have him point out the obvious as though to a child. The undercurrent of such an attitude is certainly not in the tone Elidibus uses. But the pragmatic lack reaction to the implication of stains on his honor as a man are definitely a part of it. There is definitely a feeling of a teacher speaking to a young student that could be construed if one were inclined to be a little hotheaded.

Elidibus smiles. "I was interrupted. Which is a shame, really. You all seemed to be speaking in such earnest." This does imply he hadn't heard much. But he isn't going to outright admit if he'd heard anything at all, either. "But since you've gone to the trouble of approaching me, I would ask questions of you, certainly."

He may have failed his initial aim. But the Ascian does tend to take advantage of any remnants of a ruined plan to gain some success in the end. "Have you been part of the Circle for long?" he asks. Almost... congenially one might say. As if they weren't standing there confronting one another for anything other than passing pleasantries.

Zixuan's accusation of cowardice may have no effect on his pursuer, but the mysterious man's comment about harpies does earn a swelling of smugness from Zixuan. Seems like one of them is more easily swayed than the other, as stoic as he likes to pretend he is.

The tone shift into something masquerading as casual conversation would shake any lesser man, but Jin Zixuan was raised in the high society of Lanling, embedded in political intricacies from a young age, playing mediator between his warring parents to prevent scandal from erupting in Carp Tower even more than it already was wont to do. Between his philandering father and his controlling mother, and the all too nosey busybodies that fawned over the wealthy and prominent Jin Sect, Zixuan learned from an early age how to navigate the choppy waters of polite social interaction used to cover up more sinister motives.

"Not long. I will admit, I was as ignorant of the Circle's existence as you are, until very recently. But Alder and his fellows have been gracious enough to accept me into their fold, and I have been greedily making up for lost time."

Ah, a fellow mediator! Then, Jin Zixuan, do meet Elidibus, who has been a diplomat and mediator for well over ten thousand years. Not as if he would admit here that he is anyone but Ardbert, so long as he can avoid the harpy's keen insight to lies. At least he does mentally acknowledge the mortal's ability to keep his cool, for all the signs of increased smugness might tell of abundant pride.

Crossing his arms may seem like a defensive gesture. Elidibus seeks to appear in a more 'settled' manner. It would be hard for him to gesture for spellcraft without being extremely obvious about it now. And with his arms not loose, it may appear he wouldn't be able to reach his physical weapon as quickly.

"It would not be difficult for me to be ignorant as you say. I have yet to be here a moon after all," the man responds easily. Yes, play upon the harpy's sense of superiority by the suggestion he would not have the experience Zixuan does.

"And are you too one of the Mirrorbound? Or mayhap a native?" For Elidibus really is new here and the world (or rather worlds; he's very well-traveled) he has known have so much variety of mortal creatures with cultures and traits and ethnicities. It is difficult to tell. And it does interest him to know. Time will be given for Zixuan to answer before the man continues.

"I notice that a great deal of concern is toward the Circle's... lax attitude when approaching matters of the Cwyld. Would you enlighten me on the philosophy of your approach? It seems to lack any sense of precautions in the pursuit of further study." So many people becoming infected. It certainly seems a very slapdash form of 'intellectual study'.

The straw dummy is restored— again and again apparently. At some point, Reno has been drawn to the spectacle. Feeling (almost tasting) the magic flow in the air, and being a little more than just drawn to it. So at some point, he flies up, perches somewhere high. Tree, wall, doesn't matter. With enchanted goggles on his face, he can see even during the night, even if after changing into a harpy he... couldn't.

But while there's interest in magic, the excitement slowly wears of. He's still a little curious what the man is trying to achieve with that huge axe of his.

"Hey—" cocky grin splitting his face, Reno calls up from his perch at some point. "Are you planning on adding variation to your training? Asking for someone at the audience."

Obviously, he's the only audience here.

The man to whom the question is directed does not start. He pauses and slowly turns a curious half smile and alert gaze to his surroundings. Since the voice seemed to be coming from a particular direction and roughly upwards, he scans that general area. This seems to indicate he didn't know Reno was present and thus isn't one to startle easily. The smile widens a bit and his expression becomes a bit more good-natured as he spies the Turk. Because Reno isn't the type to hide, is he? Since there is conversation to be had, the axe is brought up, again one handed, to rest casually on the man's shoulder. What with the size and the ridiculous ease he wields the weapon, if it were a sword and he wasn't in some weird fur, leather and scale armor, he might even fit right in with certain mako-infused individuals. Which he is certainly not.

"A good foundation is necessary when one desires to grow. Seeing as I am having to relearn everything I know about the flow and feel of aether," he might not look it, or even for the most part sound it, but somehow disdain roils through the phrase 'having to relearn...', "It is best to take the gifts of the new moon and establish it. Would the audience," which he knows there is likely only one of, "not concur?"

Someone as streetwise as Reno might pick up on an oddity about the man's demeanor and his actions. The lack of surprise after such focus. Not seeming to be on guard and yet he's observing very keenly both Reno and his general surroundings, as if to be sure there truly is no more audience. The most subtle of pauses before he'd chosen to change, not relaxed from half-smile and alertness to cheerful and good-natured. It was almost a bit too clinical.

But who knows? Maybe he could miss these hints. They were brief. There might just be a friendly man waiting for an answer down there in the arena.

That subtlety adds a new, interesting layer to the performer. Reno merely tilts his head at first, seeing very clearly from his vantage point. The transformation into harpy came in with a perk of really sharp, predator sight. It also came with the addition of his arms now doubling as wings. With rufous plumage, turning sharply into grey-black at the end of the flight feathers. Kind of forced him into a change of his usual fashion, can't be sleek, lean, and mean when you got a fucking wings for arms. The feathers going on the back of his neck and disappearing under the shirt down his back and shoulders are almost missable, given their colour is already similar to Reno's hair.

"A coach and trainer would agree." He throws back his reply with a humorous tone. "Audience, on the other hand, just wants to be entertained! See something new"

It's not like he's coaxing Elidibus to show off more moves, and more skills, because he likes to keep tabs on people and what they are capable of doing... ooops. No, he is totally someone that would do that. But since he is the type to that, he wouldn't say that aloud, right? When faced with a potential performer, utilizing subtlety, Reno leans into the polar opposite, that is. Being a little shit.

"Or do you want me to go down there and cheer you on first? All you need is to ask!"

It sucks, doesn't it? When this damnable world just utterly changes your style by stuffing you in a body and forcing you to deal with it, rather than shedding it like a pair of clothes--

Okay well, not exactly the same as transforming into a monster and needing to change clothes. But some of the words do match.

It's enough that Reno gives concession that the idea behind the training is correct. Debating that the audience does not... This also has its proper place.

"You bring a fair point for consideration. Though the audience is not often treated to the performer's practice, but the results it finally produces." Looking at this warrior, one wouldn't think the fancy speech is his thing. He certainly has a rough edge to his appearance and kit. There's an intelligence in his gaze which could easily suggest otherwise, especially to the harpy's keen eyes.

Elidibus? Needing encouragement from a mortal? That's laughable on the best of days. And he has no intention of putting his cards so easily on the table for Reno to read when it comes to a free show. The Turk is going to have to work for it. He's also a diplomat first, for all the upkeep of appearances and act, self-defense second, and fighting a distant third.

"You're welcome to come down. But I don't know what the audience intends, leaving their seat and coming onto the stage," he answers, amusement appearing to color his features. The being inhabiting the mortal shell has... limited ability to feel emotions at the best of times. "Certainly not to just cheer the performer on."

But he's willing to engage in this 'discussion' that borders on playing chicken with whom can keep their temper better.

"Shit, that's a fair point."

Reno nods and nods his head as if he was really giving it a deeper thought. He isn't, at least to the subject on hand. It's going through the motion of the conversation while seeing the person behind the words. It's rare he gets to meet a witch, and this man already provides quite a sight. He also appears very... measured with his choice of words. Looking the knight part, sure he does. But the wry word game already shows there's more far more intelligence in that skull than the size of the axe suggests. (Look, Reno ain't the type to have much respect for knightly guys)

The diplomacy game he likes, and with a quick glide down he leaves his perch, to land swiftly right next to Elidibus. The feathers forming wings folding as quickly as with a flip of the wrist. While it's true that as like with every harpy, his nails grow dark, sharp and talon-like, for most of the time he keeps them trimmed. (They got overdrive each full moon, can't help that), but the hand themselves still retain human-like shape. Which is why he can just put them on his hip and cheekily ask

"If I'm down here I gotta either couch you properly or be that sparring partner— is that what you say?"

To the warrior's credit, Reno's brief flight and landing doesn't cause the man to flinch. Not even a step away to make room! The harpy will have to get the landing right or crash into the ground-dweller. Nailed it? Good. Only then does Elidibus shift his stance, but only in a way to directly face the Turk.

Knight? Maybe. More like a barbarian or mercenary archetype really, though clean-shaven and in the early twenties, rather grizzled and artful scars which tell of experience. Anyway, probably the same difference when it comes to expected intelligence. But those eyes. Pale blue and looking the harpy over more closely now that Reno has obligingly presented himself. They seem to belong to someone very old.

"Coach me?" The idea seems to have the man on the verge of laughing. Elidibus isn't offended by the suggestion. He might have even found the idea truly amusing, were he able to find himself capable of feeling emotion. "I would wonder if you would not find our roles quickly reversed if you sought to teach me. As for a sparring partner." The gaze purposefully strays to the various targets set in the practice area. "I seem adequately supplied for now."

Yes. That was indeed a way of implying Reno might be on the same level as another training dummy.

One who knows the Ascian might wonder why Elidibus is being so uncharacteristically provoking. Some might guess that he's fleshing out his public identity and this could be a bit of the truth. In part, it's to take Reno's measure. Will the harpy lose his cool or keep up the conversation? Will it put him off balance during a spar that seems to be where this is leading? A test and show of each others' skills to evaluate?

And honestly, skilled or no, Elidibus does recognize the need to practice those talents on something more mobile than an inanimate object.

Oh, that's a challenge alright. Reno keeps looking at him with an unreadable expression, his face slowly splitting into a mischievous grin — all sharp teeth and glee. It's been a while since he had a chance to blow off some steam, Aefnglom doesn't give one enough reasons to get into a fight. There's a fidget as he consciously stops himself from moving in that very second.

"Oh yeah, these guys" he glances at the dummies Elidbus has been destroying and restoring with such dedication. As if he was appraising them as real opponents. "Good thing you're so well armored for the fight against them! Otherwise, they'd surely tear you to shreds"

He can play the provoke game too, but while he seems relaxed, he subtly shifts into a stance of readiness.

"Go on! Try to kick their ass!" he eggs Elidbus mockingly gesturing widely in the direction of the dummies.

Sparring. Clearly this will be sparring. Right?

If Elidibus wanted to just see Reno practice, he would have invited the harpy to join him in hitting dummies.

"Very well," the man answers. There is a half-smile on his lips as Elidibus begins to turn back to the training targets. His back is made a tempting target at that moment but it would be a grave error to fall into the trap he intends by it. The warning comes in the way his hand tightens around the shouldered axe; not to slowly lower it to a proper position, but to have a grip that will allow him to balance the weight of its swing.

The turn becomes a pivot and the axe's fall from the warrior's shoulder is meant instead for a wide, whirling swing at the Turk who had so kindly landed in range of the massive weapon. Despite the use of weight to put strength behind the blow, a trained eye will be able to tell there is tight control of every motion. Missing will not cause an over-extension.

In theory, he might be able to stop it just shy of actually hitting Reno, if the harpy really would be in danger of being caught by surprise. There is no magic behind the attack; no time and it would have been a dead giveaway at his current level of spellwork. More's the pity.

Irhya's attention is not difficult to snag when it comes to shopping. She'll end up spending her remaining daylight hours looking at things she can't afford, or perhaps things she can but shouldn't buy, and then before she knows it, all the stores are closed for the evening. But the only time she can actually get anything done is immediately after she wakes up, so she forces herself out of bed to do them, because nobody else is going to.

Today, she's ended up in a small antique shop, and is looking over the items, her mind wandering repeatedly to Emet-Selch. His sense of decor is so spartan... maybe she can find something to brighten it up a little? And perhaps her own room, or one of the halls...

Maybe it's just her trying to make herself feel better around her nameday, but it works. It'd be nice to surprise him with something, even if Starlight is well over with now. There are some vases and chairs, some paintings, an end table or two. But none of it seems like something--

And then, a mechanical sewing machine catches her eye. It's all metal, joined permanently to the table in such a way that lifting the whole thing would be a pain in the arse, but her tail twitches as she looks at it with no small amount of interest. Ah, but that price tag...!

She sighs after a while of looking the thing up and down, and mutters to herself, "Hells. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid." And that's exactly what she intends to do, when she sees someone on the other side of the door about to walk in.

"...Ardbert?"

Ardbert is walking into an antique store? Well signs that he's been shopping are certainly at hand. There's a net sack, handles held in one hand and slung over a shoulder. He's not with his primary weapon today; most shops would turn him away from entry if he had that thing. In the sack are a variety of bags which were obviously purchases. Some of them can actually even be discerned; a box of nails for instance. Sanding paper. A can of varnish? He catches the sound of his name as the door's opened and hunts for the source. There, a fellow Warrior of Light. He grins, stepping in and getting out of the entrance so others to enter or leave can do so. And---

Oh wait, right. This is Elidibus. But still he grins and speaks in a very pleasant tone.

"Hello again.. Irhya wasn't it? What brings you in here?"

What brings him in here more likely. But surely that can wait? 'Ardbert' draws closer to the miqo'te. He seems to be hale and hearty. His first night of arrival and the winter weather have done no lasting harm and there's no sign of new ailments. Thank Tataru and Lahabrea for their guiding lessons and hints regarding mortal routine.

"I should be asking you that," she replies with a small laugh. "I imagine you'd only come in a place like this if you really needed something, or as an errand for a friend. But, well, to answer your question... I admit I'm just being frivolous. I like looking, even if I can't buy anything. Girly stuff, you know."

She has to wonder if Lamitt or Renda-Rae were ever particular about taking their time with a shop's wares. Hell, somebody in that group must have been.

"Anyway, did you finally find a house that had a place for your amaro?" The labels are visible through the fabric, just barely; she gestures lazily towards it. "Looks like it, right?"

"I have made a friend who might be interested," Elidibus answers with a lie that comes easily. This time, he's not caught unawares of who Irhya is. But it remains that he absolutely came in here drawn by his own interests. "I've been helping him restore a home he recently purchased." His free hand comes up to tap the netting on his shoulder, indicating the bag's contents. "This is what I was sent out for, in truth."

With a few weeks of practice and a crash course on mortality, the Emissary is doing better at this pretense of Ardbert. But this may be interpreted as relaxing after having his life upended after he became one of the Mirrorbound, when it comes to his facade. And, a few weeks of (mostly) keeping up the act even when it shouldn't really matter what people around here call him by...

Hopefully, details won't be tested.

Elidibus offers a light chuckle. "Well far be it for me to get in the way of 'girly stuff'." Whatever that means. Were males not supposed to observe overpriced items and make note of them for future purchase? How strange. "But it certainly shouldn't hurt to look. Maybe you'll find something within your allowance."

The question about housing does give him a moment's internal pause. This Warrior of Light should recognize the name of his current landlady. But finally he chooses. "Indeed I did. I met a dwarf--" there is a purposeful pause before a 'correction'. "Forgive me, she refers to herself as a lalafell. She had a shed which could be converted and was kind enough to give me shelter while I find my footing in this city."

There was a moment's pause before he offers, "Though it has been suggested by another that I may wish to consider rental in the public stables of the city. I'm yet uncertain, though if I am to eventually find my own place, I may need to consider it given the limited space in the city."

Relatively speaking, anyway.

"Ah, that makes sense. The city really is limited in terms of space for larger animals... I think that would be a good idea if you can afford it. Might be worth taking up a part-time job for the purpose?"

What Ardbert might be skilled at, or moreover interested in, she isn't sure. Little does she know, neither does he, most likely.

"The lalafell must be Tataru, then. It sounds like her. She's quite the powerful witch, if I do say so myself." A quick smirk, and a reminder to herself never to cross the Scions' bookkeeper. "I need to keep a tighter grip on my cunes, myself... hence the dilemma, you see? It's rather hard when faced with something you really love."

Her eyes slide to the side, a little guilty. "But I have the self-discipline to manage. Usually."

"You know her?" Elidibus manages to convey being pleased well enough. "But you are right, her name is Tataru. It was fortune she was willing to open her door to a stranger. I must have cut a pitiable sight."

Which is true. He was probably half frozen, so to speak. And of course he had the amaro with him. It's more accurate to say it's fortunate Tataru took him in because he really was largely ignorant of what could have happened to him without proper heat and food during that night.

Tataru has also been helping a lot with his mortal routine. But that's another story. "I run errands, help around the house. Contribute some of the money I've earned. The arrangement works well for the both of us, I think."

Elidibus has been looking around the nearby. "I've been doing odd-jobs about the city for now. There's always plenty of work for a strong person of character." Lots of dock work, errands, cleaning and even repair. Not that the Emissary would take on an actual job without looking into how to do it. Either way, he manages. At the end of the day, being an escort comes up. A strong man with a massive axe is a deterrent in itself, no matter how much magic he's mastered.

"You are having trouble with money?" Though he phrases the question curiously, his gaze doesn't turn to Irhya. He seems fixed on something at the back of the shop. Should the miqo'te turn to look, she'd probably be able to trace the direction of his attention to an upright piano.

"Ah, no, that's not what I..." She starts shaking her head, but trails off when she notices his attention drift away. Her head follows his gaze to a ways behind her; it's hard not to notice something the size of a piano. But why would it capture his interest like that? Ah, but it occurs to her -- maybe he's never seen one...? She herself mistook it for a harpsichord the first time she saw one, after all.

"Oh, that?" A pause. "They don't... have pianos on the First either, do they? It was sort of a new thing to me, too..."

Then she snaps back to attention, making a tight face. "Anyway! My ledger is just fine, thank you! There's a reason Tataru is the one who balances the numbers in the group, but it's not like I'm incapable of living on my own without help." It's a fervent declaration, like she's determined to set straight a misunderstanding -- almost too fervent.

Hm? 'Ardbert' looks back. "Of course I know what a piano is!" Most of the First was swallowed by the Flood by the time Irhya should have seen it. So PROVE HIM WRONG. Though he does continue. "But I don't think I've seen one which looks like that before." ...Probably not true in Elidibus' case. But it at least seems to balance why Ardbert might have been looking in that direction.

But sure, let's move on! Fortunately, the Warrior of Light's ardent plea to be believed in regards to financial stability offers a good way to cause a distraction from further discussion about pianos. There's a very notable arch of an eyebrow and the touch of an amused smile. Elidibus noticed the intensity. "Of course. A well-traveled young woman such as yourself, probably has picked up a few lessons in crafting on the way?"

Good job, Elidibus. That was almost quite like Ardbert.

"Or is it the compulsion to reach beyond your means that's the problem?"

...AND a double entendre that is a little bit more like Elidibus, despite the sense of 'jest' in which it's couched.

If there's anything she's learned about Ardbert during her time talking to him one-on-one as a specter, it's that, while earnest, he isn't particularly well-bred. Which is hardly a point against him -- neither is she -- but something about that phrasing just seems... off. It doesn't sound right to her ears. It's too polite, too unassuming... just the right amount of either to be a certain Ascian of poor acting ability with Ardbert's face instead.

But if she desires to call him out on the suspect wording, she chooses not to in the end, despite eying him with curiosity withering into a touch of sulk. "A few lessons? Oi. Listen." Irhya jabs a finger in his direction with a pout, leaning over slightly. "I grew up on godsdamned crafting. Had everything I made picked apart by someone or other until I got it right. But -- wouldn't you know it, materials are expensive when you're not harvesting them yourself straight off the earth!"

She bites her lip as she crosses her arms, humming in discontent. "I mean... I could probably be better about keeping part time jobs, true. I just get so antsy after a while... But I would thank you not to be likened to the hapless sods in Gatetown, at least."

It took her less than half a day to sniff him out the first time. Perhaps it took longer the second time, but only because she's been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. If each exchange is just going to make that more difficult, will she have to bite the bullet and make the accusation eventually? That'll hardly be fun.

There's a rub there, as Elidibus is listening. Gatetown? He picked up on its existence when he took Ardbert's body. What better sort of place to bring his message that everyone could be a hero than Eulmore's detritus. Leave it to mortal man, to place their dinner table right next to their septic pit. Anyway, listening to her gives him time to wonder whether something would have existed in Ardbert's time. Perhaps he can avoid familiarity suggesting one thing or another. He settles on an impression of a neutral response. After all, she could be talking about a place here as much as a place near Ardbert's homeland.

Let's be fair. That 'half-day' was more tracking him down and pinning a specific identity than not knowing it was an Ascian. Right now, 'Ardbert's' grin widens as he provokes her to pout and point levels of prickled pride. It's not malicious or anything. Just what he feels his host body might have been seen doing in this circumstance.

"Sorry!" Clearly that grin does mean he's not very sorry. Still, he raises both his hands (the one hanging onto the bag as best it can be anyway) and holds them palm out as though to ward off Irhya's pout. "But if it's about materials and expenses, and you know that Tataru's good for handling ledgers, why not just speak to her and see if you can't work on something together?"

No more impatience with part-time jobs! A professional businesswoman handling the books. More things to think of than whether Ardbert sounds too much like Elidibus! It would be a win-win...-win.

Surely Irhya has thought of this before?

Irhya makes an embarrassed face. "Well..." An uncomfortable shift. "I feel like asking that would be too presumptuous, when she doesn't know me at all. Though I suppose if she were willing to make it into a paid service, I wouldn't feel as bad about it..."

Her hand passes over her hair, flattening her ears briefly, then letting them bounce back into place. "I guess if I just work at it a little harder, it'll sort itself out. Tataru seems like a busy lady, after all. And I've only got so many daylight hours in me to spare these days."

Slowly, though, something dawns on her, and she takes on a more thoughtful look while she lets the idea percolate. "I mean, I can't be the only one, right? Maybe there's a specific niche that needs filling amid the nocturnal monster community, I wonder...?"

"If it worries you so much, ask her not as a friend, but as a potential business partner," 'Ardbert' offers. Paid either way. "I don't doubt it would be easier to trust someone whose skills you know to have your back." He certainly hadn't made the suggestion on the belief that Tataru would be expected to do it from the goodness of her heart, certainly.

And what would the actual crafting of an item have to do with the cycle of day or night? Tilting his head, Elidibus asks a question. "I imagine it couldn't hurt to ask. And I don't know what the day or night cycle has brought to mind," the man offers her a half-grin. "But if you are looking for a customer and are capable of handling leather goods, I know I for one would have an order which could not be easily filled by others."

It's not like the Ascian is a mind reader after all. But at least he's sincerely curious about what the Warrior of Light is speaking of.

It's not like she doesn't want to talk to Tataru more, and his suggestion is a good one. But her stubborn independent streak tells her to do it herself, just to prove she can manage it on her own. Irhya looks unsure nonetheless, making a sound of acknowledgment.

"Oh-- wait, I guess I never actually told you," she says, hesitating for a long moment. Her weight shifts, one hand finding her ponytail and combing fingers through it. "I'm nocturnal. Always have been, but now more than ever, since I became a vampire. I'm actually running on barely any sleep right now, if that tells you anything."

The world doesn't stop for the nocturnal just because they can't get out of bed. She perks up at the mention of an order, though, her ears twitching and expression brightening. "But I work with leather, yes. What are you thinking?"

Elidibus presses no more on the matter of whether Irhya should approach Tataru. He's set it out there, it'll be on the Warrior of Light's shoulders to address it. Or not.

Especially as the miqo'te reveals something he'd not yet learned, by way of her Monster identity. A vampire would explain the rigid nocturnal schedule, from what he's learned. A bloodsucking creature of the night and a Mirrorbound who experienced a form of 'death'.

Elidibus is well-practiced enough not to smile a bit over how fitting that seems for the Warrior of Light of the Source. Irhya may not be the one he recognizes, but that doesn't mean he is entirely above a small moment of pettiness by proxy. Ah, but he's likely expected to respond like Ardbert, isn't he?

"I.. see." Elidibus blinks and seems to look at Irhya with new regard. "...Well I suppose that does explain matters. And why you were just beginning your day when we first met." He follows with a brief chuckle. "Or night, I should say."

But nocturnal schedules should not in any way stop a crafter. And when Irhya perks up at the suggestion he might have a work order for her, Elidibus does continue to speak of the matter.

"As you are aware, I arrived in Aefenglom with an amaro. And since you mentioned Seto and some familiarity with my world, I am thinking you may have better insight on what is needed in regards to a proper saddle and bridle." Elidibus grins in a good-natured way. "Even the halter I have is something they modified when I first arrived. And since I don't relish the thought of flying with no more than feathers to hold on to, it is a matter of some importance."

Elidibus tilts his head to the side, still watching the miqo'te's reaction. "I can aid in the procurement of the materials needed. And though I'm looking for something practical in this instance, should you be willing to pursue the use of your skills to earn a wage, perhaps some time can be spared for a second, more decorative design to attract attention to your skillset."

Maybe Irhya will be too keen on nerding over the prospect of saddle-making and crafting to pick up on the way Elidibus is sort of sliding between a more Ardbert way of speaking and one more Elidibus-like this time?

Irhya looks at him, eyes darting up and down for a moment like she's evaluating him. If she has come to a decisive conclusion about this being Elidibus, she makes no indication of it. In fact...

"Yes, that would be doable. I grew up near a chocobo stable, so I'm familiar with saddles and the making of them. Though..." she pauses to cast him a sly look, "are you trying to suggest I'm not getting paid for this?"

It seems like she's just needling him for the sake of it, regardless of his identity. Most craftsmen don't even make things for their friends or family for free upon request, after all.

Elidibus remains passive during her sudden regard, patiently waiting for a response. Certainly, he notices it, but as to acting out and cementing her decision? Well, he's not about to hand it to her, that's for sure.

When she seems willing to continue pleasantly- in a manner of speaking- he's willing to continue on course as if she hadn't. There really wasn't anything to indicate, as Irhya speaks, that she wasn't just sizing him up as though evaluating whether he was playing her for free work.

Which, in fact, he certainly wasn't. The Emissary lifts his hands in a gesture of hurried dismissal. "What... of course not! Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of what we're talking about just now?" Lowering his hands, the man then crosses his arms over his chest. His expression does have a bit of a sly, albeit cheerful look and keenly he looks upon the miqo'te.

"Though I would expect any materials I provided would not be included in the final cost. As for the more showy piece..." A hand is raised and dropped in a gesture of concession. "It depends on if you decide you are interested in advertisement. I wouldn't normally require fancy barding." This is likely true whether this was Elidibus or not. "So some further compensation toward the price of it just to have my amaro wear the thing and tell people about it?" Especially aristocratic people who would be the main draw for fancy leatherwork and craft.

Despite the subtle game of psychological warfare taking up a piece of her attention, Irhya still can't help but laugh at his response. That much, she supposes, is true universally, no matter which she's talking to. "All right," she says, smiling from behind her hand as if trying to mask the playful gesture. "I'll do it. Since you're appealing to my inner perfectionist and all... it's true, I can't help it. I do like making aesthetically appealing things where I can, though many turn out not to be as practical. But for a saddle, I could probably tool some designs in..."

In this case, perhaps she should stay away from the usual floral and stick to something more abstract...? He doesn't seem like much of a person for flowers. She takes a moment to envision it before returning to reality.

"Yes, I can make it work. I'll check what I already have and let you know what I need, and we can go from there. I'm thinking an additional strap behind the main cinch will keep the saddle on taut like you want, but I'll have to take a few measurements so it doesn't accidentally hinder any movements."

One could imagine Ardbert's reaction to floral patterns on his amaro saddle.

But since we only have Elidibus here... nothing is said, since no hint is given that flowers were even considered this time around. "I'll leave it to you what to choose." But the saddle should certainly be a practical thing. The Ascian nods his head to acknowledge the need for an extra strap. And especially for measurements. "I'm sure we can find someplace meet so you can have those measurements done."

Particularly important, if Irhya has never specifically made an amaro's saddle. Their wing placement and span, and their whole body conformation are different from a chocobo's after all. He looks around the shop again. There really doesn't appear to be anything attracting his attention other than the piano earlier. "You still have my watch information, I expect? Given you mentioned earlier having limited time, I should not take more of it this afternoon."

Focusing on Irhya again, Elidibus has a faint smile. "I myself should be returning soon. My friend can be a little irritable about unexpected delays." He most certainly will not be mentioning that he was delayed by chatting with the Warrior of Light to Lahabrea though.

"Aye, I do. I'll not keep you, then."

She waves to him, her mind already sorting through design choices, when it occurs to her what she could do. Not only would it be pretty (in her opinion), but it'd be a gamble that would decisively tell her whether this person is Ardbert or Elidibus. One worth taking, she thinks; at least if it's Ardbert, he won't take it too terribly. She can be forgiven for being extra cautious, right? Considering the circumstances...

"I'll contact you when I have a better idea of what I'll need. Until then!"

Myr is, he knows, on uneven ground with the Evergeen Circle. His earnest curiosity and warm heart had easily won him friends among its adherents. He's sympathetic enough to their ideas he hadn't needed to fake his interest in their doctrine (what little there was of it) nor his willingness to "keep his mind open"--

But someone at one of the meetings had also tried to push his journey to full membership along through magical means that had--thank Andraste and the Maker--had not worked on a Faun, which means he hadn't earned the trust he'd thought he was, not yet.

So maybe it is not surprising that for all the care that Elidibus takes to be audible in approaching him, the Faun bounds a good three feet away from the Ascian's voice when addressed, tail flagged behind him in mute warning. To say he's on edge is a charitable understatement.

"Ah--" The giant wormlike creature that had been marching along beside Myr rears up to regard Elidibus with what might be inferred to be wary skepticism. Myr puts a fumbling hand on its back after a moment, and catches his breath. "--apologies, messere, you startled me. What is it you wanted?"

He only caught the tone, not the words, in his momentary panic.

Mayhap that creature is another reason why Elidibus chose to pause where he did and not impede the faun's progress. But he had no intention of causing strife one way or another. The Emissary raises his gaze and meets the worm-beast's attention with a calm lack of emotion and waits for Myr to settle and talk or decide to flee.

It's a point in the faun's favor anyway. Most of the Circle's ardent believers were nowhere near skittish.

"My apologies." There is a sense of infinite patience easily brought to bear. The impression- illusion considering their location really- that he has all the time in the world to wait out Myr's alarm to get to the heart of the matter for which he approached. "I have no desire to do you harm." If the beast's attention is capable of reason, it would be 'observed' that Elidibus keeps his hands to his sides and his stance simple and straight. His expression is as completely devoid of emotion as his voice sounds.

This will change if someone passes by, of course. But that might not be for a while. The spot was chosen for its relative privacy.

"I wish to query you on the nature of the Evergreen Circle. What, pray, can you tell me of it?"

Myr has always been a trusting creature at heart. For all the sorrow and perfidy he'd witnessed or read of while in the Circle of Magi--more the latter than the former, for any competent Circle sheltered its charges from so much of the world--he had still come out of it expecting the best of other people. Even when it would be easy to doubt, scorn, or grow angry at others, he's made a point of extending grace toward them because it's what the Maker expects.

Aefenglom...has put a little bit of tarnish on that inherent trusting nature, put a little bit of caution into Myr's immediate inclination to answer anyone's question freely just because they asked it. The world is cruel to the incautious and a Faun's instincts only reinforce that idea.

Those same instincts say that this is a very bad place to be having so extended and fraught a conversation with someone whose voice he has never heard before. The expression on his face, turned toward the alley's end and not Elidibus, becomes faintly incredulous. Who's asking? a small and flip part of him--the part raised on bad detective serials--wants to shoot back.

"...You'll forgive me, messere," he finally manages, "if I say I don't feel comfortable speaking of it here, without knowing who you are or why you're asking me."

It's too paranoid to suspect this is someone from the Evergreen Circle itself, he thinks; they hadn't shown that kind of subtlety or double-dealing. Nevertheless, the thought niggles that they might be trying somehow to catch him out. (Wasn't that how it always went in stories of subterfuge? It's like something out of L's life.)

Not without due caution, this faun. And rightly so, even were it the real Ardbert who had approached. Certainly, Elidibus no doubt opened with a direct question and without an introduction to see if Myr would have been foolish enough to speak openly. But he's not upset that he did not receive a naive answer.

And the faun was polite about it, so bonus points.

"A wise answer," comes the response and recognition. And he gives his name, though not without a glance around or an infantile feel for any trace of magic that might have been scrying their conversation. At least he tried. He still labors under the system that the best way to detect and know the nature of a spell is to discern its signature, rather than cast a spell to detect a spell. "I am Elidibus, an... emissary." There had been the slightest pause as if a last-minute change of phrasing had occurred.

And then, on the matter of their location, this 'emissary' offers. "And if you still do not wish to speak of matters here, then where would you suggest?"

...Suggest going with a complete stranger that is. Name and intent aside, that's still a dangerous gambit for either of them, since surely a public location would be out.

"Be aware, I would prefer if matters were to remain between us two." Well, maybe the worm can come too.

Sure, it might be safe to pick a suitable location with more ensured privacy. With this 'Elidibus'.

Who seems to have a terrible habit of falling into a state of uncanny stillness. Elidibus makes virtually no sound compared to most living creatures. Other than his voice, breathing, the breezes that part around his corporeal body, and the occasional rustle of his cloak in that same wind, it is a scary lack of imprint on the world in the moment of silence while he waits for an answer.

It is deeply unnerving to speak to someone who has so little presence in the world as this "Elidibus" does. The experience--and the man's particular way of speaking--puts Myr in mind of certain spirits of the Fade, who'd picked of some of what it meant to speak with mortals but not all the nuances required to put them wholly at ease. Which was simultaneously disconcerting and a relief; the really dangerous demons were the ones who seemed entirely like people and could lull a mage into a false sense of security.

Aefenglom doesn't have spirits or demons, though, and while some of the Mirrorbound bore similarities to the breed, the mirrors forced them into a shape closer to mortal. Analogies to Thedas only extended so far (as Myr had learned, to his chagrin)--but they do back up the Faun's reasoning even so. Paradoxically, it makes Elidibus' odd request something he's a little more willing to listen to, because a spirit wouldn't know exactly how suspicious it sounds making even an innocuous offer.

"...There is a park not far from here," Myr suggests, after weighing all of this in his mind. "Mostly disused and overgrown, though it's got a fountain someone keeps running." Not public, exactly, but not so private that either of them could disappear the other (laughable as that thought was in Myr's case) without someone possibly noticing it. And it gave the Faun a very faint edge on his interlocutor, to be standing in a piece of wilderness.

"Would that suit, messere emissary?" It's not lost in him that Elidibus has offered a name and he has not yet given one in return; he isn't quite ready to return that gesture of trust, though he'll warm to it in time.

It's just how he is.

Obviously there is something. How much more frightening would it be, to experience the Ascian's 'presence' in his natural state? At least here there is something. The smell of leather and fur, the earlier mentioned traits of a corporeal body. Probably not someone you readily go anywhere within the current climes of the city.

"Yes, I am familiar with the place," Elidibus has been lurking around for some time now. Of course, he's gained an idea of the surroundings. "It will serve well enough for a place to converse. And afford you a sense of security."

He has read about fauns, too. This emissary sounds indifferent to the matter. Confidence, arrogance, or simply holding his cards close. Elidibus seeks to give no hint. Though it is true at least half the indifference is a habit.

"I will follow soon." This much likely needs no explanation. Even setting aside the possibility he might be intentionally remaining still (he's not), the two of them traveling together to a new location risks discovery. The current place had been chosen. If they arrived at the park separately, it could be construed as coincidence, provided they did not walk side by side.

He doesn't leave right away. Elidibus is still there, waiting and probably watching Myr and the worm for their reaction. As for names? There will not be any judgment there. While Elidibus may be a definition of what he is, his duty and very sense of being, it is not a name. Nor is 'Ardbert', even if he intended to give that at the end of this discussion.

Ah, well. So Elidibus knows enough about Fauns to render Myr's ploy transparent--that's discomfiting, but not enough to make him call it off.

He gives a brusque nod of acknowledgment to the other man's words, perceiving the intent behind them. It's smart. Careful. "Very well. Come on, Crookytail."

This last is directed to the wormipede with him; Myr gives her a gentle pat on the back to get her moving when she'd linger to study Elidibus with faint suspicion. Soon enough the odd pair is disappearing around the far corner of the street, headed off to the park.

It isn't a long walk--not even long enough for a Faun's anxious instincts to take over and give him cold hooves. Myr takes his time selecting a place for their meeting, feeling his way around the fountain for somewhere that seems to have a proper amount of concealing foliage. He's likely still about the task when Elidibus arrives--there not being anything, in these depths of winter, that quite meets a Faun's needs.

There will be no remark on the name Crookytail. Not one. There will also be no aggressive moves once Myr chooses to follow the suggestion that he leave first. Elidibus watches the two retreat. It will be a fair bit of time before he follows. Though of course, this will be from another direction entirely.

Ah, winter. It's cold, 'foliage' is in the form of brambles and nude hedgerows. And the fountain, being a feature and something one doesn't generally cover with hardy specimens, may be lacking. But there are trellises and various support structures which can be used to block if not the chill of the wind, then immediate recognition of those who stand around or behind it.

And while Elidibus might arrive before the faun has found something suitable, he does not immediately approach. Instead, he chooses to patiently observe- hopefully from some range where the wormipede doesn't take immediate notice of his presence- the decisions Myr makes for a place worthy of a dangerous conversation with a stranger.

Myr will be given time to settle himself. The Ascian's plans do not include overtly startling the faun too much that the quarry will flee. Though keeping the target off balance a bit will not be remiss.

Given she hasn't got a tail (or is all tail, depending on how one chose to conceptualize a wormipede's anatomy), let alone a crooky one, it's certainly a mystery of a name.

Not one Myr would ordinarily have trouble explaining, at least, under comfortable and congenial circumstances.

These circumstances are neither. It pricks at the stag's instincts that Myr cannot find cover he likes to sit beneath, even when he gives up his own stubborn pride and mutters a word to the wormipede to request her help. She leaves off measuring the wall around the fountain with her antennae to lead him to a bench beneath the trellises, nudging at his legs with her flanks to keep him on the right path. He locates the bench, takes his staff off his back, and settles down with it across his lap.

Slim protection, but not none. The wormipede curls up by his hooves after a moment of surveying their surroundings, keeping her own vigil as her Faun simply waits in ears-cocked silence for Elidibus to arrive.

(Or not arrive, as the case may be. There may be danger Myr can't see that would warrant aborting their appointment.

Which, he confesses in himself, would not be a terrible thing.)

A seeing-eye wormipede? Surely there's been odder, but Elidibus can't think of anything. More importantly either Myr doesn't know he's being watched or he's very good at acting, so the Ascian gets a chance to observe the interaction and other mannerisms of the faun.

It also gives him a chance to make sure Myr didn't call on backup when he traveled alone to their meeting. Or that they had been followed. Haaah. So many things to keep track of, when stuck in a mortal body.

Footsteps again approach a short while after the wormipede and Myr settle in place. Long enough to get comforted. Not so long as to feel any relief that the meeting may be aborted after all. Crookytail will be given due consideration when challenging personal space. But Elidibus will not allow this discussion to be any more in the open than it already is in the locale they've changed to. Which is to say he will stop next to the bench. Regard the worm. Step over its non-crooky tail if he must and settle into a seat beside Myr. There is a distance spaced between the faun and the witch. But the creature calling himself Elidibus has concluded that this is the best arrangement.

"I am pleased to see you are willing to continue our discussion." By showing up and by staying and... well it doesn't matter whether Myr simply seeks to get more details on the potential threat Elidibus poses. "Shall I repeat my request?

He will if requested. 'I wish to query you on the nature of the Evergreen Circle. What, pray, can you tell me of it?'. Perhaps paraphrased this time, but that was the original query.

Crookytail is, among other things, a polite wormipede. She does not attempt to get in Elidibus' personal space, nor does she impolitely lift her back to trip him as he steps over her. She does, though, sit up when he has passed to pat at him once, twice with her long antennae. Taking his measure--quite literally--as it were, before resuming her comfortable resting coil.

Her Faun sits up straighter at the sound of someone joining him on the bench; the scent--and then the voice--tell him right off that he has not evaded his appointment with the Emissary. So, then: Time to trust this isn't going to get him into trouble with an Evergreen Circle partisan.

"I remember it, messere Emissary, but thank you." For offering to remind him. This encounter's strange enough he's already laying down the pertinent pieces of it in his memory tower (statue of an envoy in the Tevinter style, hand outstretched with a wreath of green in it).

"They are, so far as I've gathered, adherents of a Witch named Cillian Alder. He's charismatic, intelligent, and deeply fixated on study of the Cwyld in ways the Coven finds too dangerous to permit. He and his followers believe it an opportunity for mystic or transcendental experience. Many of them are aristocrats, though they permit Monsters in their midst--in fact, seem to welcome them the way the highborn here often don't."

A pause. "They've been called a cult, though I find little to recommend that name to them. What they're doing has very little to do with religion; I suspect they've latched onto one of the only mysteries they've got to fill the vacuum of belief. They seem horribly earnest about it. How much of that is due to magical persuasion I've yet to determine."

There. He curls his hand more tightly around his staff as he makes an end of speaking, ears turning this way and that as he listens to their surroundings. He probably has not just signed his own death warrant, but a Faun's instincts do not rest.

This investigative patting of his legs is allowed to pass unobstructed. Crookytail is not particularly invasive after all and merely performing what seems to be a vital function for the faun. However unconventional, the relationship is nevertheless recognizable.

Would that all the worlds' blind mortals could have a seeing eye(stalk?) worm.

And far be it for Elidibus to compare himself to the creature curled at their feet, but he has certainly been a guide for those blind creatures which call themselves mortal men before. There is as little sound as there was before. Well, perhaps it is accurate to say the sounds are different. There might be distant voices of a couple laughing. And the wind plays over the winter remains of foliage differently than it had on the deserted street earlier. The figure beside Myr is now closer through his seat on the bench. So maybe warmth can be felt and even breathing can be heard. Calm, not at all anxious. But at least a presence to suggest a living being belongs to the voice.

"A cult need not be veneration to a false God, though it is true many words are defined poorly. Moreso, wherein peoples of different eras and worlds oft collide. Perhaps this is one such case, where a word universally recognized can apply to one group. However haphazardly."

It's okay Elidibus. You can just say 'for simplicity's sake cult could be used to define the group'.

"So you are aware of the methods they will utilize to ensure the cooperation of their members." The answer is mild and non-judgmental. And wholly lacking in any suggestion that having this knowledge is a good or bad thing for Myr's future. There are no sounds of others approaching. Elidibus seems to bear no malice. Perhaps it will be alright, for now.

The sound of his words grows distant in the way one does when turned away from the speaker. Elidibus has also looked around, as mindful of their surroundings as the faun, though not allowing this to derail the matter at hand. "Perhaps you are more familiar with such matters than I. But I have often observed it is easier to curry favor from those who stand in a position often regarded as 'lesser' within society's norms."

More pawns among the disenfranchised than among the elite. Though that's not to say there is no merit in pursuing tools amongst the highborn. Elidibus knows firsthand how to create opportunities from both sides of the scale.

"Given their methods, I suspect some wariness given the nature of fauns. Yet I observe some few, outside of yourself, have become quite proactive in support of the Circle's activities."

It is a statement, certainly. But it is also a question.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

An Early and Mid-Ieneuer Variety Post

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I New Moon

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wildcard...?

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