The Wobbly Goblet Playground Options

[minque]

Serene
"Are you able to sing, or play an instrument, madam, er...?"

Serene blushed, she hadn't introduced herself to the young artist yet!

Damn, am I rude

" Oh sorry may I introduce myself, I'm Serene Catraso-Velas, healer and mage, also married to Sethyas Velas, that dunmer over there at the bar" Serene said

"And I'm familiar with conjuration- but most of all with destruction spells"

Gah how did that sound?

"So I'm very interested in learning how you did those magnificent spells during your performance....and well I do play the Lute...about singing..well I do sing but it doesn't sound so good so I normally just play"

[King Coin]

So this is Serene, Aravi thought. Should I introduce myself? She exchanged a look with Darnand. He seemed to not know either. Heck with it.

“Pleased to meet you Serene, I’m Aravi. I think we saw each other outside at the market stalls, but I don’t think we actually got introduced.”

She learned a little from the other woman from what she spoke about with Salyan. She was a mage, and could play a lute. Aravi never learned to play an instrument, which would probably surprise anyone that knew her past. Other servants were taught that trade; it was seen as useless for her however. Aravi knew very little about magic as well. She never received a formal training in the use of the spells she knew. She had learned from shopkeepers, various court wizards, and a few books.

[King Of Beasts]

Westley

Westley stood up and brushed himself off. He helped Ylenno up, then went over to Kayla and knelt down by her

"She's gonna have a big bruise on her face. Nothing a little ice cant fix, I suppose." The large imperial dragged Kayla over to the pond and splashed a puddle of water on her face

"Wakey, wakey." He stood over her and grinned "You're gonna sleep in again." He said sarcastically. He laughed "You alright? You took a pretty heavy blow there. There's gonna be a pretty bad bruise on your face. You want me to get you some ice?"

[Black Hand]

Idiots.... Sethyas said to himself, exhaling a plume of smoke from his hackle-lo pipe.

Kayla, and two people he didn't recognize; a rebellious-looking Bosmer and a mountain of an Imperial had gotten into a barfight, and disturbed the peace he'd sought outside. The Festival began to move into the evening and the later crowd was more intent of the evening traditions of drinking and yammering.

It hurt his head when he thought about it.

When the man knocked out Kayla and she burned his pants he'd considered intervening, but the three seemed to be friends and had gotten themselves into this. Despite the odds, they'd apparently come out the victor.

He'd ran low on his own rolled Hackle-Lo's and Thals had more, but the dried, crushed variety that worked best in his pipe. He'd smoke either way, and usually the pipe hackle-lo was a bit more fresh and aromatic than the rolled ones.

Serene had been talking to Aravi and that bard on his way out for the smoke, so decided to re-join with them and perhaps find out a little more about the magnificent display she'd made with her lyre and song that conjured such beautiful images of the mountains and snow.

[Grits]

Abiene

“Some people are just born with a knack for violence,” Vera said. “We thrive off of it, you know. Without violence, you wouldn’t make as much coin as you would be now. Less people to heal.” She sat down at the small table, explaining that her weapons check was a routine, and not a sign of imminent departure.

“I used to work in the Anvil Mages Guild as their Restoration trainer,” said Abiene. “The harbor provided an endless supply of injuries for my students to learn on. Accidents all day and then violence once the sun went down. I often wished I could use all of my magicka on the accidents, but I knew every night I’d be healing the same broken bones and lacerations from the same tavern fights. Leaving burn scars was the worst. There was this one little girl. If only…” Abiene broke off and took a sip of her mead.

“If I ever won big at the Arena I’d open my own practice and heal folks until the money ran out. I’m afraid I’ll never get rich off of harm that’s done to others.” She gave Vera a rueful smile. “Besides, that will never happen. I don’t go to the Arena.”

Abiene looked over at the other woman. Even seated Vera appeared ready to spring to her feet. She seemed… watchful. Abiene wondered how she ever slept.

Trying not to think about werewolves made it impossible not to. Abiene decided to just give in. Far better to be discussing the subject in an abstract manner than to have frightful secrets in the mind.

“Vera…” Abiene kept her voice quiet and took care with her words. Even if someone overheard they shouldn’t sound incriminating. She hoped that Vera would notice her caution. “I work at the chapel now, but I have a reputation for privately helping folks who aren’t welcome there. As you can imagine I see some strange things. I expect you’ve seen even stranger. I wonder if in your experience as a hunter you’ve learned much about, say, lycanthropes. The only thing I’ve read was a vile study of unfortunate captives. I didn’t learn much that would help any future patients. Unlike the author I’m not interested in ways to kill them, but in how to help.”

Abiene drummed her fingertips against the bottle for a moment. Vera hadn’t killed her yet, so she continued.

“I’m actually wondering the most about women. If there is special care that an expectant mother needs, or if a lycanthrope can even conceive. Does the condition pass to the child from the mother as a trait? What would happen if a transformation occurred during a pregnancy? There’s much I don’t know. I’m not even sure if any other healer has considered these questions. But somewhere, someone must know.”

[Colonel Mustard]

Salyan was about to reply to what Serene had said when a small brawl thundered past them, an angry stampede of fighters all moving outdoors with a comical cohesion when their antagonism was considered. She stopped staring after a moment, and nodded.

"Right, sorry," she said. "As I was going to say, it's a pleasure to meet you, Serene, and you, Sethyas."

She returned to the topic at hand, specifically Serene's skill set.

"I'm afraid I only know one destruction spell," she admitted. "And even then it's not particularly powerful, and I know nothing of conjuration, so what I could teach wouldn't be playing to your greatest strengths. My own specialisation is in illusion spells, and if you're any good at them, and have your lute to hand, I suppose I could teach you some tomorrow or the day after, if you're still here."

She glanced over at Aravi, Sethyas and Darnand.

"Do any of you have any skill in magic?" she asked. "If you don't mind me saying, Darnand, you have the look of a mage about you."

[King Coin]

“I know how to cast a few spells, but I’m far from skilled,” Aravi answered. “You are right about Darnand though,” she said, looking at the Breton.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

The cold water on her face startled Kayla into waking up. The left side of her face throbbed in pain. She opened her eyes with a gasp and, to her surprise, Westley was standing over her.

"Wes? When did you get here?!" She asked thickly, her cheek swollen. She felt along her teeth with her tongue and was satisfied that all of her teeth were still intact.

What'd he say? Something about ice?

She lit a weak frost spell in her left hand and held it to her swollen cheek.

"I'm fine. Just...how long have you been here?!" She looked around and saw Ylenno.

"You're here too?!" She was genuinely confused. "I don't..."

Oh, her head throbbed in pain. "I need a potion. Or a healer. Preferablely a healer. I can't remember how I got here."

[King Of Beasts]

Westley

"I just got here today. Not sure about you an Ylenno." Westley sighed "You got hit pretty hard. We're not far from Chorrol. Should I take you to the chapel?" He grabbed her hand and helped her up. He looked around "That was a fight." He said. "Come on. I don't know what room you're staying in, but do you suppose you have a potion there? If not lets go to chorrol and get you to a healer."

[Grits]

Darnand

“You are right about Darnand though,” said Aravi.

Darnand nodded in acknowledgement.

“I must confess I do not have an Arcane University education,” he said. “I turn to practical applications to fund my work, but my interests are largely academic. Spellcrafting across schools, research into various mystic energies, the history of scrollmaking and enchantment. However most of my, er… field experience comes from the disciplines of Conjuration and Destruction.”

He gave Aravi a little smile. His friend could tell several tales of their mishaps together, though perhaps more time needed to pass before she enjoyed the humor in them. Aravi had been on the receiving end of some of Darnand’s most memorable miscalculations.

Darnand turned back to Salyan. “I have wondered if the bardic drums of Skyrim’s legends were not played along with spells. My inquiries at the Bards College met vigorous denial, as one might expect. So much that I was left with stronger suspicion. Which leads me to ask, what is the area of effect for your images? Does the strength wane as the volume diminishes with distance, or is there a point after which they simply do not appear? Though you use illusion magicks, I had thought that the bond with a summoning might be strengthened by…” You are at a party, Darnand reminded himself. Unfortunately. This might be what they call ‘too intense.’ Save the inquisition for later.

He felt that his attempt to smile might look more like a grimace. “Yes, I am a mage,” he finished.

[Darkness Eternal]

“I used to work in the Anvil Mages Guild as their Restoration trainer,” Abiene replied. “The harbor provided an endless supply of injuries for my students to learn on. Accidents all day and then violence once the sun went down. I often wished I could use all of my magicka on the accidents, but I knew every night I’d be healing the same broken bones and lacerations from the same tavern fights. Leaving burn scars was the worst. There was this one little girl. If only…” Abiene’s words trailed off.

Vera understood the pain Abiene must have gone through. It wasn’t easy seeing a child injured or mutilated or dead. She couldn’t offer no words of comfort, for they would feel flat and hypocritical coming from a woman who had unwittingly killed a young one in one of her transformations. She’d learn to move on from such misfortune.

Abiene took on a softer voice, and started to speak by saying Vera’s name.

The huntress could see by the finger movements, cautious voice, and the expression on the face and the eyes that Abiene was going to broach a subject she initially feared. It was something that must have been bottled inside and she just now mustered the courage to say it.

Vera wanted to know what.

“I work at the chapel now, but I have a reputation for privately helping folks who aren’t welcome there. As you can imagine I see some strange things. I expect you’ve seen even stranger. I wonder if in your experience as a hunter you’ve learned much about, say, lycanthropes. The only thing I’ve read was a vile study of unfortunate captives. I didn’t learn much that would help any future patients. Unlike the author I’m not interested in ways to kill them, but in how to help.”

Vera managed a grin. A lycanthrope would certainly know about their own. It was as if saying a woman didn’t understand about herself. Though she looked young she still had many years on her shoulder, and she’s learned just about everything she had to know about her kind and what she is.

What she found amusing was that someone wanted to know more about her kind for supportive ways rather than murderous.

This is where it got interesting.

“I’m actually wondering the most about women. If there is special care that an expectant mother needs, or if a lycanthrope can even conceive. Does the condition pass to the child from the mother as a trait? What would happen if a transformation occurred during a pregnancy? There’s much I don’t know. I’m not even sure if any other healer has considered these questions. But somewhere, someone must know.”
“Odd question,” Vera remarked. “Chapel priests would sooner find a way to kill a lycanthrope than help her reproduce.”

But this was part of Abiene’s trade. She was dedicated to her work. Vera knew as much. She went her way to help those in need even if they didn’t offer payment in return. Lycus was an example of this. She aided those who deserved it, and perhaps even those who are less deserving.

She’s just like me, Vera reflected. I bring steel and arrows to those who deserve and to those who don’t.

Though one heals, and the other destroys, she had to admit they both were serious about their occupation. Vera leaned forward on the bed. Did she really want to reveal information to Abiene?

She had no reason now to mistrust the woman. She would’ve sensed a lie upon her lips as if she had devoured a bowl of onions or any other odorous food. And right now the only thing she was is fearful. Cautious.

She hasn’t been in the presence of a werewolf like me before.

If it meant aiding one of her own kind, even if they had separate ideals, Vera would still help. She walked over to the table where Abiene was and seated herself down across from the Breton.

“The condition can be passed from parent to child,” Vera said in a hushed whisper. “Typically, lycanthropy can be passed to another as a hereditary condition rather than a bite or a scratch. But that’s a rare occurrence, as there are few families in the world who carry it.”

They’ve either been killed off or the family members died out. As far as she knew she was the only lycanthropic member of her ancient lycanthropic family.

“During the transformation our bones and organs shift to accommodate our swelling heart,” she said in a lowly voice. “An expectant mother may have her internal workings shift to support the fetus within her. At times they survive, at times they don’t. I’ve heard stories of miscarriages before. They're likely to happen.”

She was never pregnant, so she wouldn’t know for sure if her child would die or not. She would though . . . in the future. That was more than certain. Miscarriages in lycanthropes could also result from the woman's lifestyle, too and not so much as the supernatural transformation.

“If the child is born, the condition blossoms later as they grow. It could happen when they are a couple of years before their adolescent age, or it can happen just as they become adolescents.”

Her first transformation happened when she was young. No more than eighteen years of age.

Her eyes stayed focused on Abiene. “If the woman is unable to produce a child, then it may be unrelated to her condition. Lycanthropy heals, though it is with a cost. The only way to heal scarred or torn tissue or even lacerated limbs is to devour the flesh of the innocent.”

“The problem must be something else,” she replied. It could range from different strains of lycanthropy, too. She worked with the Companions before and they weren’t forced to take the form of the wolf during the full moons. Not like she and Lycus were and yet they’ve only passed their condition to others by consuming the blood of the lycanthrope.

She knew there were also different strains for vampirism. Each strain adapted to their own climate or with some daedric pact, them and their descendants were altered. Sunlight sometimes no longer affected them in the manner it affected others. The moons for werewolves sometimes could only encourage them to transform and not force them.

“We vary,” Vera explained. “Werewolves and other lycanthropes, our blood is different, our abilities and willpower are different. As you may have heard from peasants or scholars, we're tied to Hircine, and if by some chance He finds disfavor on us he can prevent our transformations or even going as far as to prevent a child from being born into the world if that is the thing the mother desires the most. It depends. If the mother is truly hopeless she can plead for Hircine to prevent her shifting until she bears the child. I never heard of anything of this sort and I doubt He would allow such a thing unless other factors are included."

She tilted her head to Abiene as her mind conjured more scenarios. “The Glenmoril Wyrd can perform many rituals from a cure to even immortality. Something less trivial as infertility is no head-scratcher for them.” Vera exhaled. “If the woman is wise enough she would know there is always a price for witches. Only death pays for life and a young woman or a male child is acceptable."

Vera shrugged. "And that is what is known. If the mother isn't ready to lose her soul or take the life of an innocent child just so that her own can be born into the world, then it isn't a path for her to take."

The witches are unpredictable.

Vera didn't imagine all mothers would truly take that road. For if their child was born, the mother would look upon her offspring with the life-long reminder that other innocent children had to die in order for the child to live. But desperation often took over.

"There are too many variables", Vera came to the conclusion. "Sometimes blood magic isn't required. There are other ways, less moral-challenging ways, to cure infertility. It depends on the mother's lifestyle and if lycanthropy is indeed to blame, her relationship with her own self."

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Sep 9 2013, 08:21 PM

[minque]

" My own specialisation is in illusion spells, and if you're any good at them, and have your lute to hand, I suppose I could teach you some tomorrow or the day after, if you're still here." The bard said

"Oh, well I do have quite some illusion skills as well....it's just that I more often use the others"

Gah, I sound like I'm a destruction queen, not good!

"So" Serene continued, "I'd very much like you to teach me your show, I'll probably be around some more days"

"Isn't that right, my love?" She turned to Seth who had returned, smoking his usual hackle-lo

"Can I have some of that stuff?" she asked her husband

She then looked at the breton mage, Darnand was it? He impressed her with his question to the bard

That one is one skilled mage...must leran to know him better

[Black Hand]

Sethyas gave a slightly annoyed look to Serene. She always asked for the last rolled one, he handed it to her anyways; he was preferring the pipe blend anyways. It was like she knew....

"What Serene means to say is that she is a well-rounded mage. She likely finds herself in...combat situations..much more than you might Miss Salyan, as such her skill in those applicable colleges may be a bit higher in the more practical and passive ones she also studies." Sethyas explained.

"I once studied the College of Illusion myself, though I'm afraid that skill has atrophied to near nil. I find all my needs in regard to magicka can be answered with Alchemy. Though I admit, I couldn't even begin to contemplate a potion that could reproduce your display. At least not one that anyone else could see...." Seth raised an eyebrow considering several ingredients that contained hallucinogenic properties.

"It truly was a fantastic performance as well. I have never seen anything like it; perhaps short of troupes and plays that have production skills far beyond the common ones. Plus...I've seen some terrible plays..." he said trailing off.

Serene exhaled a plume of smoke and gave a raised eyebrow. "You're talking about 'The Lusty Argonian Maid' aren't you?" she began to laugh.

"What Noble in his right mind would have actually financed that confirmed flop?! That's all I'm saying!" Seth exclaimed trying not to revisit the night that couldn't have been improved with copious amounts of alcohol nor forgotten by the same means.

"Speaking of brutal performances, did you see the barfight on your way in?" She asked.

"Yes, Kayla and a couple of her friends decided to get friendly with the local rock-smashers by the look of them. They should be okay." He said taking another toke of his pipe.

"Anyways, before we get too off-topic, what was that style again? And where did you learn it, if I may ask?" Sethyas gestured to Salyan.

[Colonel Mustard]

Salyan couldn't help but smile at Darnand's answer to her question; the way he launched from contemplative quiet into enthusiastic chatter about magic, and then caught himself as he realised that he was springing into what Salyan guessed would be an entire theoretical discussion, if he had let himself do it. It was quite endearing, really. It probably helped that he was quite looking, too. "Bookishly handsome", a friend of hers had once said of his type of man.

Serene and Sethyas gave some explanation of their own abilities, and Salyan had to concede that she was in the presence of a trio of remarkably powerful mages.

"I'd be happy to teach you some then, Serene," Salyan said. "And, serjo Sethyas, in answer to your question, the style of magic I use, audiomancy, uses sound to help me cast spells. It's a bit more complicated than that, but I won't bore you with an in depth discussion of arcane theory at the moment. I learnt it when I spent some time travelling in the Summerset Isles some years ago; it's obscure even there, though, and I think I may well be one of the only practitioners outside of the Isles."

She was confident she would get away with that little lie; as a bard, she was good at making even far-fetched stories seem plausible, and the Summerset Isles would be the place where obscure magic would come from. The chances of someone in this small group having been there were slim enough for her to not be dragged into a conversation about a place she knew little about. She didn't know these people anywhere near well enough to know if she could trust them with the truth about where she came from; there was no knowing how they might react.

[Black Hand]

Seth raised his brow in appreciation as he took a swig of his lager that he'd recently come to enjoy.

"Fascinating...yes, now that you mention it that does sound like the Altmer. Always seeking new forms of presentation and culture." He seemed to agree.

"It also reminds me of the book 'Silence', in which an Illusion mage describes sound as a physical entity, something which could be bent and manipulated to achieve other means." He said reading some phantom pages in the air.

"Which is a very creative use of that particular discipline. Refreshing that a mage or School was seeking a new use of magicka without it being meant for some nefarious purpose, or repurposing it for one." He commented, reflecting upon events that had taken but a day prior.

"Then you truly are gifted and hold onto something that few even know exist." he offered. "Now if you could teach her to actually sing..." he was interrupted by an elbow into the ribs.

"Ow! What did I say?" He lamented mockingly to Serene's displeased expression.

[minque]

Serene

She enjoyed the rolled hackle-lo, but she felt a pang of remorse, it had been Seth's last...but then again he did like his pipe better! So there!

She smiled when Seth interpreted what she had said...he always did that. She used to be somewhat annoyed but during the years she had come to appreciate it instead....he knew better what she meant than she did herself..at least sometimes.

During the conversation between Seth and Salyan she took the opportunity to look at the young bard more closely; she was good looking in a androgynous way which pleased Serene, she had a knack for that kind of women.

Then she heard Seth say: "Now if you could teach her to actually sing...

"Sethyas Velas! I warn you!" she thought and struck her elbow right in his ribs

But she couldn't be cross with Seth for very long, besides she needed a brandy....she very much needed a brandy

She pondered about if she should ask Seth to bring her one but decided it was pushing it too far, he wasn't by all means her servant....

"I'll just go get myself a glass of brandy" she said to the little group. "Can I bring something from the bar to you "

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Kayla shook her head. "There's a healer here. Abiene. Gods, my face! I think he broke something in my face!"

Kayla walked inside, unsure if Ylenno or Westley followed. She stopped when she saw Aravi and Darnand. She leaned in and whispered to Darnand, "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but where's Abiene? My face is killing me." She hid as much of the swelling as she could with her hand, ice spell still going.

[Grits]

Abiene

“Odd question,” Vera remarked. “Chapel priests would sooner find a way to kill a lycanthrope than help her reproduce.”

Abiene knew the truth in that. She held the lowest rank at the chapel only for the sake of advancing her learning. She wouldn’t even keep her notes there for fear of having them discovered. While the priests encouraged their flocks to make offerings at the chapel in order to receive their blessings, Abiene believed that Stendarr’s mercy could be found in a mortal’s heart. It was given to her so she could share it.

Vera sat down with her at the table. The candlelight turned Vera’s eyes to liquid gold. Abiene listened carefully to her hushed voice.

She found much to alarm her, but there was also hope.

Performing a blood ritual for a coven of Hircine’s witches was simply out of the question. The existence of such a thing confirmed that it was sometimes needed, and that was concerning. Abiene knew the heartbreak of making the choice for herself. She couldn’t imagine how painful it must be to have it completely taken away from her. But that pain must be endured if necessary, not passed on to another mother.

Abiene expected that consuming the flesh of the innocent would be another unwelcome suggestion.

But there was the option of a pact with Hircine, though the thought gave her an involuntary shiver. A lycanthrope would need some way to prevent transformations or risk the loss of her unborn child.

“There are too many variables,” Vera came to the conclusion. “Sometimes blood magic isn't required. There are other ways, less moral-challenging ways, to cure infertility. It depends on the mother's lifestyle and if lycanthropy is indeed to blame, her relationship with her own self.”

“Variables,” Abiene thought out loud. Then she brought her tone back down to a whisper. “There’s so much that I didn’t know.”

Her heart filled with appreciation. She reached out impulsively to touch Vera’s hand. “You have given me hope, though fulfilling it will not be up to my skills alone. Now I at least know what questions to ask, how to guide someone who needs help. And most importantly now I know what I can’t promise. I am glad to have met you, Vera. With all of my heart, thank you.”

[Grits]

Darnand

It wasn’t difficult to relax and enjoy the banter once he committed to staying with the group. Salyan had a performer’s poise combined with a natural look and friendly manner that put him at ease.

Sethyas teased his wife about their theater-going disasters. Darnand had to chuckle in commiseration. Abiene dragged him to performances at every opportunity when he was in town. Though Darnand was from Chorrol he had seen more plays, dances, and symphonies since she had lived there than he had in his entire youth. The best he could offer on the subject was that at least he didn’t snore when he fell asleep in a chair. He decided not to share that tidbit with the group. Salyan’s performance had been breathtaking, and he would hate to accidentally imply otherwise. For a moment he had almost felt the snow on his neck.

Salyan explained that she had learned audiomancy in the Summerset Isles. He shot her a wry smile when she suggested that an in-depth theoretical discussion might be inappropriate at the moment. An obscure field from a land steeped in magic, he mused. No wonder it was unknown to me.

Kayla walked in from outside as Serene offered drinks from the bar. They must have finished their fight. Kayla held a hand against the side of her face. Mist from a frost spell drifted around her fingers.

She spoke into his ear. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but where’s Abiene? My face is killing me.”

Darnand answered as he gently moved her hand away so he could see the injury. “She is still upstairs in her—Oh gods! I beg your pardon, it does not look that bad. One hardly notices.” Sweet Mother Mara! “Let us place your palm as you had it before. Shall we seek out Abiene?”

He glanced over to see if Serene would intervene. In his inexpert opinion Kayla was at risk of falling over. He had dragged an unconscious Jerric up more than one set of inn stairs, but he suspected that Kayla possessed more dignity than the Nord. It would be best to see to her head injury immediately.

“Here,” he said, slipping an arm around her back. He kept his voice quiet so as not to embarrass her. “Lean on me if you feel unsteady.”

[King Coin]

Aravi looked over when she heard Kayla's voice. There was something she wanted to discuss with her.

Her ears shot up in surprise when she saw Kayla's injury. Darnand seemed to be taking care of her, but she offered anyways, keeping her voice low. "Do you need me to help?"