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* Moon Dancer comes in from the kitchen, looking tired and worn. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is mussed and unkempt. He walks tenderly behind the bar, leaning on it when he gets to it. He pulls a towel out from underneath the bar, then looks up at the front (side) door. <Moon Dancer> Damn. I guess I have to open the place up. * Moon Dancer walks to the front door. As he fishes the key out of his vest pocket, he looks over to the mantle, and the empty spot where Sealgair's swords once hung. He visibly deflates as he looks at the spot, then moves on to open the door. <Moon Dancer> Hall's open. * Moon Dancer walks back behind the bar, and pours himself a shot glass of a certain clear, potent and pungent liquid, which he tosses back with a wince. * S'ayad'i comes through the door and looks around. When she sees MD behind the bar, she moves swiftly through the room and to the bar. * Jaret strides in, most of the spring restored to his step. He makes his way to the bar and settles down quickly. "Well met and good evening, Moon Dancer. A glass of Arabellan Red, if you please." <S'ayad'i> 'DANCER! You're back! ::intently:: There's something you should know. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at S'ayad'i, tired and empty:: Aye, I'm back. How are you, lass? <S'ayad'i> It's about... ::glances at the empty wall over the mantle:: It's about Sealgair. He's *back*, 'Dancer. * Moon Dancer raises an eyebrow, in disbelief. "S'ay, that's not funny." * Michelle enters through the front/side door. She's a human, standing about 5'6", with long, light brown hair and blue eyes. Her hair is done up with a burgundy and gold scarf. She's wearing a double breasted burgundy jacket/skirt, over a white, collared blouse and burgundy skirt. She's also wearing white stocking and burgundy flats. Two strings of gold bells circle from one hip to the other on the jacket, and each of her shoes has a gold buck <S'ayad'i> I'm serious, 'Dancer. He's... His mind isn't quite all there, though. <Michelle> ::In her right ear she has an earring that seems to glow like a miniature half moon.:: * Moon Dancer looks at S'ay again, in total disbelief, before glancing at the newcomer. "S'ay, I'm serious. Of all the things to joke about, that's not one." <S'ayad'i> It's like he's a spirit, maybe. He's staying here in the Hall, and he can't leave. Last week he was ranting about some promise he made. * Michelle walks over to the bar, "A glass of Arabellan Red please." * Michelle carefully sits herself on a stool. S'ayad'i pulls herself up on a stool and levitates until she can look MD eye-to-eye. "I've never been more serious in my life." <Moon Dancer> ::raises a finger to S'ay, as he turns to Michelle:: Aye, lass, a glass of Arabellan Red? Any particular vintage? <Michelle> I'm afraid I'm not familiar enough with them to say. * Jaret takes some new interest in the well-wardrobed newcomer himself as he hears her order. <Moon Dancer> ::shakes his head at S'ayad'i:: We'll discuss this later, okay? ::he looks strained even mentioning SG:: * Jaret leans over to MD. "The 1249 is a rather fine year, if you can spare a bottle." <Michelle> [Well, SOMEONE has to have a wardrobe to match Jaret's.] <Moon Dancer> ::nods to Jaret as he enters, and smiles:: Spare a bottle? Would you care to split it with... ::stops and looks at Michelle:: * Moon Dancer reaches underneath the bar, and unlocks _something_ and then pulls out a bottle of Arabellan, 1249. * Michelle smiles at Jaret. "Thank you sir. I so hate to order poor wine." <S'ayad'i> But... ::glances around and trails off, willing to wait until the other patrons have been served.:: <Jaret> Of course. ::stands and moves to Michelle:: do you mind if I sit here, so Moon Dancer doesn't have to run back and forth all night, pouring wine? <S'ayad'i> [Ah, Thunderbird. Let me see - yes, this was a very good week...] <Michelle> ::Michelle's smile brightens:: Certainly. <Moon Dancer> ::grins, weakly, at Jaret, as he fills two glasses and places them in front of Michelle and Jaret:: Mind you, Milord Malkier can talk you out of many things if you try to match him in his consumption of the Arabellan Red. ::winks at Jaret:: * Moon Dancer turns back to S'ayad'i, any traces of joviality disappearing from his face. <S'ayad'i> [or *into* them...] * Michelle giggles lightly giving Jaret an appraising look, "I'm certain." * Jaret laughs as he picks up his goblet. "Moon Dancer jests. I only consume wine in moderation." <Moon Dancer> S'ay, look. I'm been everywhere looking for the damn swords. I've even been looking for Zoya's god-forsaken Tower for her, hoping to find some aspect of Erdian somewhere that might be able to help. ::sighs, and props his head up on the bar:: <S'ayad'i> ::seeing that MD is done filling orders:: Moon Dancer, I wouldn't joke about something this serious. Sealgair is *back*. But he's confined to the Hall, some sort of spirit-form. * Michelle sips her wine, then looks up startled. "Oh, how rude of me. My name is Michelle, Lord Malkier." * Moon Dancer shakes his head, not understanding. "How could Sealgair ever be confined _anywhere_? A man of his strength... <S'ayad'i> I don't *know*, 'Dancer. We were trying everything we could to understand, but part his memory is... It's not *missing*, but it was hidden from him... All we could get from him was something about a promise. * Jaret sets his goblet on the counter and bows to Michelle. "I am to blame, for not introducing myself. Sometimes I feel so comfortable here I forget most of my manners. ::trails off, trying to figure out when he introduced himself to Michelle, but abruptly dismisses it:: And I am Jaret Malkier. The honor of our meeting is mine. <Jaret> And definitely not Lord. I have no title here. Simply Jaret suits. <Moon Dancer> Promise? What sort of promise? ::MD still doesn't fully believe what he's hearing:: A magical apparition, maybe? Something of the Wyrm filtering over? * Michelle starts to get off the stool to offer Jaret a curtsy, then thinks better of it given the length of her skirt. "I'm happy to meet you Jaret. So were you once a lord, or thus the barkeep refer to everyone that way?" <Moon Dancer> ::shakes his head to clear his thoughts. He sits on a stool behind the bar, and slumps as he does so:: I don't understand, S'ay. Who would play such a trick? <S'ayad'i> He couldn't tell us anymore. It was like trying to think about it caused him pain, and then he became angry - I haven't seen him so furious since that demon Rastabon got in here - and he pulled out one of his swords and started flailing at the door to prove to us that he can't get out. <S'ayad'i> I don't think it's a trick, 'Dancer. I don't know what wyrm you speak of, but there was nothing of evil in him. <Moon Dancer> Rastabon? He knew about Rastabon? <Moon Dancer> ::waves his hand dismissively at S'ay's comment about the Wyrm:: No, you wouldn't... <Jaret> Moon Dancer is just a very kind soul, and means it as a term of honor. And I am a noble's son, but not anywhere near Marsember's walls. <Moon Dancer> [No, you're right. Just MD's disbelief...] <S'ayad'i> [Oh, got it.] He didn't mention the demon, himself - but he cringed in pain when any of us mentioned the old names, 'Dancer. He *knew* them, but they've been hidden from him somehow. <Michelle> So what brought you to Marsember? * S'ayad'i walks over to the stairway and looks up impatiently. "If he'd just come in, you'd see what I mean." She stalks back to the bar. * Jaret laughs ruefully. "A mage who wanted a troublesome swordsman to be very far away. I guess it's best chalked up to pure chance than anything else." <Moon Dancer> ::looks at S'ay, trying to piece it together:: When Rhys mentioned it, I was sure he must've been mistaken. ::sighs:: Hell, I thought he'd stolen the damn blades! Still, it could be some form of... Erdian, perhaps? <S'ayad'i> ::frowning:: I don't know. Maybe - they were very close. But I'd be inclined to say no... Even Erdian had trouble wrapping his tongue around some of Sealgair's hometongue. * Moon Dancer extends his hand in the direction of the taps, and a mug comes jogging into his grasp. MD fills it with ale, and takes a long drink from the mug. * Michelle giggles again, "I know that feeling all to well. Unfortunately I rarely have someone to blame for winding up in another world. And when I do, it's usually me." * Jaret stares at Michelle, quite astonished. "You've traveled to other worlds? Tell me, have you ever been to Larith?" * Sealgair walks slowly down the stairs, seeming to solidify from the very air. His eyes are downcast as he shambles over to his chair by the fireplace and sits facing away from the rest of the patrons. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at S'ay:: That's something Rhys mentioned too, come to think of it. I should have paid more attention to his note, and not been so distrusting of him... <Michelle> I'm afraid I've never had the good fortune even to hear of such a place until tonight. * S'ayad'i points wordlessly to Sealgair sitting by the fire. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at S'ay, as if to say something, then looks past her finger to SG's form in front of the fire:: <S'ayad'i> Ask him. Maybe you're the one he needs. <Sealgair> [here we go] * Moon Dancer stands, and slowly walks over towards the fireplace, <S'ayad'i> [boys and girls, start your engines!] <Michelle> [I've got my popcorn.] * Jaret sighs and his shoulders sag for a moment. In a moment, he has regained his energy again. "Oh, well. So, what is it like?" * Sealgair doesn't look up, his express blank. <Moon Dancer> ::in barely a whisper:: M'chara? Is it you? * S'ayad'i slides quietly behind the bar so MD can talk to SG without interruption. * Sealgair looks up at MD, his face still blank. <Sealgair> Eh? <Jaret> [s'ayad'i. master bard. favored of milil. temp employee.] <Michelle> Very disturbing. All the rules change every time, and I usually don't get any warning. And as often as not stumble right into the middle of an award situation. <Moon Dancer> ::extends his hand, as if to touch SG on the shoulder, but stops short, afraid of what he'll find:: <Moon Dancer> [Hey, Manpower pays the bills...] * Sealgair turns his eyes towards the floor again. <Moon Dancer> ::puts his hand on SG's shoulder, surprised to find it's actually solid:: Gaia herself, I thought you were dead... * Sealgair suddenly sits bolt upright at MD's touch. <Moon Dancer> ::reaches in his pocket, fishing for the key to the Hall when SG bolts upright. Shocked, MD drops the key on the floor:: * Sealgair places his hand over MD's and stands. He turns and stares straight at MD. <Sealgair> At last. The promise can be fulfilled. <Moon Dancer> ::MD stops, one hand on Sealgair's shoulder, the other half-out of his vest pocket. He seems to be trying to word something, but his mouth refuses to work correctly:: * S'ayad'i breathes, "Oh, I knewit..." * Sealgair reaches out both hands, placing one on either side of MD's head. <Moon Dancer> [Well, you get a Gold Star then this week! ::grin::] <S'ayad'i> [THBBBBBT!] * Sealgair bows his head and starts chanting, the words on the verge of understanding. The chant seems to rumble through the bones, like the sound a primal planet makes as it's forming. <Moon Dancer> [Moon Dancer starts to dance, grabbing the feather boa from behind the bar and breaking into a stunning rendition of... oops. Gotta go back to the storyline...] <Sealgair> Show me, show me why you called up on the promise. ::the chant continues unabated, even though SG speaks, as if the Hall itself has taken up the words:: * Jaret turns (belatedly) to watch what's going on. * Michelle sips her wine, watching the events with some curiosity, but not really seeming to understand there significance. <Michelle> [It's all right, Jaret was doing his swash thing. :) ] <Moon Dancer> ::As MD starts to remember, a dark, ominous cloud starts to form above him and Sealgair, almost as if a pitch-black hurricane were forming above their heads. MD reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a piece of chalk, and starts scribbling on the floor of the Hall, almost subconsciously. * Sealgair releases MD's head but a softly glowing nimbus of light has sprung up around them both and a thin streamer of the light connects them. * Moon Dancer scribbles shapes and symbols on the floor, some looking vaguely familiar, like a long-forgotten memory, others completely foreign. As he sketches, the cloud begins to take form, strands of something congealing out of nothing. <Moon Dancer> ::several of the larger strands of something form large threads, around which orbit smaller beads of light, at times flowing into the threads before bursting back out again:: * Michelle takes another sip of her wine then sets the glass down on the bar, looking a touch worried at the goings on. <Moon Dancer> ::Suddenly, one of the beads of light flies incredibly close to the 'camera', and everyone in the Hall can make out that the bead looks much like Jaret. His bead is followed by beads looking like S'ayad'i, Erdian, Drach, Bai and Yb - a who's who of Hall lore:: <Moon Dancer> ::Out of the other, larger strand erupt beads in the form of wolves, even werewolves, looking much like our friendly proprietor on a Bad Night. These beads intermingle with the ones from Cormyr's thread, and the two threads move closer and closer together:: <Moon Dancer> ::As the threads move closer to one another, strands from each thread break off, and venture out into the 'other' thread, some returning to join their original thread, most not. Then, suddenly, there is a blinding flash of light, and when everyone can finally see again, there is only one thread. It is not Cormyr's.:: * Moon Dancer collapses in Sealgair's grasp, Sealgair's grasp being the only thing keeping him from falling on to the floor. * Michelle gets off her stool, a look of concern on her face, but apparently unwilling to say anything for fear of interrupting what's going on. * Sealgair turns and gently places Moon Dancer in a chair. The scene floating around everyone dissolves away into roiling grey clouds. SG bows his head in concentration. <Sealgair> ::Thick threads and cords coalesce from the greyness, familiar, recognizable as the threads MD visualized. Even so, they are faintly different, as though seen through a different colored or shaped lens.:: * Moon Dancer groggily wags his head from shoulder to shoulder, as if waking from a long hibernation. His eyes are glassy and unfocused:: <Sealgair> ::The view swings around and zooms in on one of the threads, Faerun. The vantage point "flies" along a section of the thread, revealing scenes from around Cormyr, even a vertigo inducing view of the Hall, like a reflection multiplied to infinity between two mirrors.:: * Sealgair scans up and around the scene, casting his perception far and abroad from Faerun. There is no thread near to Faerun, not as depicted by MD's visualization earlier. * Sealgair lifts his head, his eyes lit from within. The view arrows away from Faerun, across a wild skein of threads and cords. Each brings s butle barrage of images, views into the lives and places within each world. The view slows as another thread, another familiar thread comes into view. Again the vantage point skims along the surface of the cord <Sealgair> ::The scale of the thread magnifies until it dissolves into rapidly flashing scenes of primal forest and sun and shadow dappled bodies--wolves, coursing along hunting trails. Several of the wolves meld and flow into half human, half animal shaped and back again. <Sealgair> ::Then the viewpoint flies past the thread and twists, to look back, across a yawning gulf, towards Faerun. Not only is the alien thread shown previously to crash into Faerun not close enough to intersect, but is far enough to _never_ intersect.:: * Sealgair leans down to MD and places his hands on either side of his head, again. SG concentrates and the light around MD visibly brightens. <Sealgair> ::A streamer of light leaps from MD outwards, flashing out bound immediate view. Simultaneous a thin strand of light flashes out from cord of Faerun to the alien cord.:: * Sealgair lifts his hands away from MD and throws them wide. The view dissolves into a grey bubble of nothingness surrounding SG, MD and the onlookers. * Michelle blinks, then starts dividing her attention between MD and SG, and the bubble. * Sealgair fades out to near transparency as the bubble starts flying along the streamer of light stretching out of MD's slack body. <Sealgair> ::As the view advanced along the streamer of light, the alien world's cord re-appears in the distance, resolving through the grey wall of the bubble. As the group of travelers closes on the world, other thin lines of light can be seen, stretching across and intertwining with the cord, much like MD's line. <Sealgair> ::However, these new streams are strong, and vibrant. MD's is thin, weak, pulsing just above extinguishing. As the bubble approaches the alien world, though, it starts to beat stronger.:: <Sealgair> ::The bubble penetrates the surface of the cord, the individual threads and lines woven to make it up flashing by, again conjuring images of the lives to which each is attached.:: <Sealgair> ::The thread thins away, like a forest coming to an end, revealing an open _green_ place at the center of the world skein. A presence can be felt permeating the bubble, a warm and green presence.:: <Michelle> ::A look of awe and rapture comes over Michelle's face.:: * Moon Dancer opens his eyes and immediately _shifts_ into almost ten feet of contented fur. He smiles a broad, innocent smile, and looks around him... <S'ayad'i> ::Despite MD's innocent, contented look, S'ay floats backwards a few feet at the sudden shift:: <Sealgair> ::The walls of the bubble shimmer and stir, revealing vague forest scenes, fuzzy shapes darting here in there in green tinted shafts of pure sunlight.:: <Moon Dancer> ::he blinks, and looks at Sealgair:: M'chara? Is that you? ::reaches into his pocket, and notices that it's empty:: I had the key for you, but I seem to have lost it. <Moon Dancer> ::looks over at Michelle:: Odd, you seem to belong here, too... * Michelle smiles at MD, "We might want to discuss this later." <Moon Dancer> ::turns to Jaret, then to S'ay, a little confused:: Why are you two here? You definitely don't belong. ::turns back to SG, a little confused:: * Sealgair doesn't respond. His form is almost entirely transparent, although an expression of strain is very clearly etched on his ghostly face. <Moon Dancer> ::to SG, not noticing the apparent lack of solidity:: Did you bring us here? * Jaret obviously has no clue why he's here, what's going on, or just about anything. He does, however, appear to be enjoying the ride. * S'ayad'i glances at Michelle, then at Jaret, then back to 'Dancer, frowning slightly and wondering if speaking will mess anything up. * Michelle walks over to MD and pats him as far up on the arm as she can. "It might be better for you if you stayed here you know. Though how you'll manage it is beyond me. I don't even know how your friend got us here." * Sealgair is almost no longer visible. The walls of the bubble seem to shudder and ripple, like a large soap bubble about to burst. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Sealgair, almost getting angry:: Why did you bring me here, if I can't stay! * S'ayad'i opens her mouth as if to speak, then decides she's better off keeping her mouth shut. <Michelle> Calm yourself my friend. He's done what he can for you, and most likely at a great cost to himself. Do not blame him that he has limits. As for why. I suspect he did it to save your life. * Sealgair lets out a cry, almost a scream and disappears completely, the echo of his cry dying away. The walls of the bubble shudder as the view snaps back along its path, back to Faerun. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Sealgair, advancing to where he stands. Here, MD seems stronger, if that's possible, and seems to loom over Sealgair's form, like a mountain over a small tree:: <Moon Dancer> ::shocked, surprised and stunned, MD falls to the floor of the 'bubble' just as the bubble returns to the Hall. He stands, having shifted back to normal, and looks around the room, confused:: Sealgair? M'chara? ::more timidly:: Old friend? <Sealgair> ::SG's twin swords fall out of the middle of the air, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and clatter dully to the floor. Where once their metal was bright, almost luminescent, they are now dull, black and lifeless.:: * Sealgair is nowhere to be seen. * Michelle gently picks up one of the swords and begins examining it. * S'ayad'i steps around the bar, but pauses by the barstools, unsure what to do or say. * Moon Dancer looks at the twin blades, merely sitting on the floor of the Hall. Barely daring to touch them, he picks up the blades and looks at the other people in the room, before setting his eyes to S'ayad'i. "What... Why, S'ay? Why did he have to... ?" He drops the blades where he picked them up, and sits on the floor with a loud "THUMP". * Michelle sighs and lays the sword back down, bowing her head, a few tears leaking from her eyes. <S'ayad'i> ::stepping over to MD and placing her hand on his shoulder:: Because he had promised, 'Dancer. Because he promised. ::S'ay is noticeably talking around a largish lump in her throat:: * Jaret sits down on his stool, absolutely nothing to say. * Michelle begins to sing a soft, mournful song in an alien language. <Moon Dancer> ::MD raises his head, looking at Michelle:: What... ::MD stands, and closes his eyes, and lowers his head, then snaps his head up and opens his eyes, reaching for the klaive that isn't there as he bares his teeth:: * S'ayad'i steps away from MD hurriedly, hands up in a "no threat" posture * Jaret looks at MD with a bit of concern. "Moon Dancer?" * Michelle seems oblivious to everything at the moment. * Lion crashes through the front door and skids to a halt. <Lion> What the devil? Did you all see the lights and such coming from this place? <Jaret> [cool. just like in _joust_] <Lion> [lol] * S'ayad'i looks at Lion, and does a double-take as she realizes what he just said. <Moon Dancer> [Shit, Matt. Don't do that. I don't know if Bob knows the Heimlich...] <S'ayad'i> Did *you* see the lights, Lion? * Lion looks embarrassed. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion, anger vanishing from his face:: Lion? What lights? * S'ayad'i 's eyes narrow. "Lion?" <Lion> Er, no...But I heard the most god awful racket and me and Biddie Goodall and some of the lads came out to have a look and the sights they described to me...::trails off:: * Lion tilts his head down, wrinkling his nose towards MD. <Lion> Er, is everyone all right? ::scratches his head:: <Jaret> ::Jaret's mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to formulate a response to Lion, but keeps failing to come up with the words:: <S'ayad'i> Well... Sort of. I think. <Moon Dancer> ::MD looks at Michelle, then back at Lion. He then looks at S'ayad'i and Jaret, and smiles:: Ah! I almost forgot! Need anything? ::as MD walks back towards the bar, he kicks one of the swords, and looks down:: * Michelle finishes her song, slowly rising to her feet. <Moon Dancer> ::MD raises an eyebrow, and picks up the sword:: What? Where did this come from? <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Jaret and S'ayad'i:: Did either of you see where this appeared from? <Lion> What's that, 'Dancer? * Lion walks over to MD. <Jaret> Moon Dancer... it's Sealgair's. Or it was. * Michelle turns on MD angrily wiping tears from her eyes, "Don't you dare even pretend to forget what he just did for you." <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion:: This sword. It was... ::turns to Jaret:: I know it was Sealgair's, it was just... * Lion turns at Michelle's outburst and backs away a half step. <Moon Dancer> ::to Michelle:: Forget? Forget what? * S'ayad'i looks from MD to Michelle and murmurs, "I think he's in shock." * Michelle grabs MD's vest, "That your friend just sacrificed himself to save your flea bitten hide." <S'ayad'i> [Wow. That could've been timed better...] <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Michelle, shocked, as he puts his hands on hers, to remove them from his vest:: I don't know why you're so upset, but my hide is most definitely _not_ flea-bitten. <Michelle> [Could've, or couldn't've?] * Lion looks extremely confused and takes a seat at the bar. * Michelle lets go of MD's vest, but continues to glare at him. <S'ayad'i> [Could've - if I'd popped in sooner, Michelle might've backed off; if I'd waited a bit, I might've had S'ay pull her off him. Either way, it would've been better.] <Lion> [win some, lose some] <Jaret> ::starts speaking in half-sentences:: The swords were-- No. Sealgair had a -- no, that's not it either. He could sometimes . . .. <Moon Dancer> ::takes Michelle's hands off his vest, not forcibly, but with definite authority as he walks back towards the bar:: Forgive me, friend. Can I get you something? <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion, looking askance at Michelle, trying to keep on guard:: <Jaret> ::quietly, giving up on the more involved explanations:: I think he's gone. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Jaret:: Yes, the swords. They were Sealgair's, but he left them here. They disappeared two weeks ago, and now they're back. I was just wondering if anyone saw where they came from... <Lion> Uh, yeah. ::still scratching head:: An ale, I guess. <Michelle> You're beyond hope. ::storms out the door muttering something about hoping the Wyrm gets him whatever the hell that is:: <Moon Dancer> ::to Jaret:: Who's gone? <Moon Dancer> ::watches as Michelle storms out of the bar:: Did I say something? <Lion> Sealgair's swords? Really? Can I--could I--? ::expectant look:: I mean, I'm a smith, I'd be curious to see... ::trails off:: <Jaret> ::looks blankly at MD:: Sealgair. He must have outdone himself. Somehow, he just... did more than he maybe could have. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion, then at the swords. He seems... torn, for a moment, before answering Lion:: I don't see why not. I mean, there's no reason _not_ to, now. * Lion wanders over to the swords, hesitantly. * S'ayad'i walks over to the swords and picks them up, gingerly. She hands one to Lion very carefully. * Lion handles it gingerly. <Lion> Odd... <S'ayad'i> 'Dancer? Can I have a clean rag? It seems... wrong, not to polish them. <Moon Dancer> ::to Jaret:: Sealgair must've outdone... ::stops and trails off:: No, Sealgair's dead. <Jaret> ::Jaret's allergies appear to be flaring up slightly:: <Jaret> I think he is, now. Not before this evening, though. Not truly. * Lion twans a finger lightly against the blade, eliciting a dull thunk, not at all a metallic sound. * Lion holds the blade up to his ear, running his fingers light along the surface. <Lion> Very odd... <Moon Dancer> ::MD reaches under the bar, and pulls out a clean rag:: Here, S'ay, though I don't think there's much point... <S'ayad'i> ::to Lion:: Well, we never expected them to be made of any common metals. <S'ayad'i> ::taking the rag from MD:: I know, but it just seems... ::she shrugs at him somewhat helplessly, then begins to try to clean the sword she's still holding:: <Lion> I know, but they're not exactly what I expected. They feel somehow...lacking something. ::frowns:: <S'ayad'i> Lacking? <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion, blankly:: Well, they are. <Jaret> ::decides to ask the question bluntly:: Moon Dancer, what do you remember from this night? <Lion> Yes. With a well crafted blade you can get a sort of impression, like the mark of the hand that made them. But these...::shrugs:: They feel like cold, unforged metal. Less, even, like something has even been taken away from that... <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Lion, and almost walks over to him before stopping to turn back to Jaret:: * Lion shudders and gently put the sword on a the table nearest S'ayad'i. * Lion returns to his bar stool. * S'ayad'i looks down at the blackened metal and sighs. She walks over to the mantle and hangs it where it was before, still unpolished. She steps back to look at it before turning, collecting the other sword from Lion, and hanging it as well. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Jaret, brow furrowed:: What do you mean? We all started talking, S'ay was mentioning something about someone who was pretending to be Sealgair... someone came in, and sat by the fireplace... ::MD's face goes blank, then after a few moments brightens with remembrance:: Then I kicked Sealgair's sword, and that's that. <Moon Dancer> ::nods to S'ayad'i:: Thanks, S'ay. I'm sure he would've wanted them returned. <S'ayad'i> ::under her breath:: Simple shock, I hope... ::louder:: The wall just looked naked without them. Maybe later, when I've got more energy, I'll see to polishing them right. * Jaret closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a deep breath. "I just hope it was worth it. Moon Dancer? Somewhere under the bar there's a bottle of spirits I believe is called takeela. Pour me a smallglass of it, would you please?" * Lion shakes his head. <S'ayad'i> Now... I just want to go home. Good night, my friends... ::She slowly heads for the door:: <Moon Dancer> ::shakes his head as he walks back from behind the bar:: It won't help, but he'd appreciate it. ::looks at Jaret:: Feel free to get it, Jaret. <Lion> Well, if everyone is all right here ::head turns towards MD for a moment:: then I need to get back, to let Goodie and the lads know everything is fine, now. <Moon Dancer> ::walks over to the mantle, and places the key to the Hall on top of it, then lowers his head:: <Moon Dancer> ::raises a hand to Lion:: Thank you, Lion. All's well, and I hope you find who caused all the excitement... * Lion catches up with S'ayad'i and offers an arm. "If you'd like an escort home?" * Lion casts a puzzled look back over his shoulder at MD. * S'ayad'i smiles sadly at Lion. "Yes, I think I'd like that. Thank you." She gently takes the offered arm. * Jaret nimbly vaults over the bar, landing neatly on the other side. He rummages around for a moment, finds the bottle, gets a shotglass (nonsentient, as most the shotglasses are), and pours himself three fingers worth of the stuff. He downs it in a gulp. <Moon Dancer> ::MD pulls a piece of charcoal out of his vest pocket, and scribbles a sketch around the key on the mantle. A sphere glows almost imperceptibly around the key, then darkens:: * Lion smiles as he takes her arm. "Good maybe you can explain..." Trails off as they leave the Hall. <Moon Dancer> ::MD smiles at Jaret as he tucks the charcoal back in his pocket. He walks towards the office, and picks up his klaive from off of his desk:: * Jaret pours a second glass, downs that too, pours a third glass, and downs that as well. With a final scowl, his arm whips out, and the shotglass smashes into the fireplace, shattering. * Jaret vaults back over the bar, and leaves without a second glance back. <Moon Dancer> ::looks at Jaret, a little concerned:: Will you be all right, Jaret? Need a place to... <Moon Dancer> ::MD trails off as Jaret leaves, then walks to the front door. He closes it, pulls out his klaive, and carves a glyph on the lock itself, engraving a symbol on the very steel of the handle. This, too, glows for a moment, then fades. MD tests the door, finding it securely locked, and then sheathes his klaive.:: * Moon Dancer turns off the lights in the Hall, and looks at the key he placed on the mantle casts a faint glow beneath Sealgair's swords. "Rest well, m'chara. Rest well." * Moon Dancer heads upstairs, to his suite. |
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