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* Michelle unlocks the door and announces, "Hall's Open!" * Michelle returns behind the bar and idly begins polishing one of the mugs with a towel. * Tyl walks in with a large scroll of parchment that she's reading from. With almost Zoya-like uncanniness, she negotiates the chairs and stools to spread the parchment out on a table. She sits down. "Evening, 'Chelle." * Meghan heads in and to the bar. "Hey Chelle, Tyl." She settles onto a stool there. "Could I get a glass of some of Jaret's favorite please?" * Zoya strides through the door. Unusually, she is wearing her shimmering priestess robes. Her white hair hangs loose, and the braided purple lock behind her ear seems to glow faintly in the lamplight. "Good evening, ladies." She starts to head to the bar, but curiosity draws her to Tyl's table, to peer at her parchment. * Michelle smiles at Tyl, "Can I get you anything Tyl?" * Michelle opens a bottle and pours Meghan a glass of wine, setting it on the bar in front of her, "Sabrina looking after Abagail?" <Tyl> Rum and ice, please... more of the former than the latter. ::She grins and leans back for Zoya to be able to view the parchment:: What do you think? Will it work? * Meghan nods "Yes. That child and I have had quite enough of each other today." * Michelle puts some ice in a glass and carries it along with a bottle over to Tyl's table. She pours a few fingers into the glass, then leaves the bottle on the table next to the glass. * Michelle looks curiously at Meghan, "Oh, has she been misbehaving?" * Zoya raises an eyebrow as she studies Tyl's parchment. "This is... very impressive, Tyl. I'm not sure... But I'd be happy to help you test it out." She grins. <Tyl> Much appreciate it. ::she lifts the glass in her left hand - which seems to have all the fingers attached - and studies the rum:: * Jaret enters, wearing a jacket and hose in vivid royal blue with cream slashes and silver accents. He tosses his plumed hat onto a peg as he walks by. His rapier hangs at its usual place at his side. "Good evening, friends! Michelle, a glass of A... Sembian brandy, please." * Meghan sips the wine and nods. "You could say that. I believe she has hit the terrible twos six months early." * Orlann holds the door open for Tarri. He seems to have acquired some new clothing recently and is clad in a cream colored shirt that draws attention to his skin, and a pair of dark brown trousers. * Michelle returns behind the bar pulling out a snifter and pouring a few fingers into it, "There you are Jaret. If you hadn't almost slipped I might have had to ask who you were." Winks at Jaret. * Tarri enters with Orlann, the smile hovering at her lips at odds with the worried look in her eyes. She glances around, then heads toward the bar to sit near Meghan. * Jaret shudders. "We went through that once before, years ago. I'd rather not cause people to have to do that again." * Michelle gives Meghan a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry. I'd be happy to watch over her more often if you need the extra break." * Meghan glances over and smiles to Tarri and Orlann "Evening you two." <Orlann> ::nods to Michelle:: Good evening, ma'am. Can we get two ciders, if you don't mind? * Meghan looks back to Michelle and smiles. "Thanks. We'll get through it without killing one another I think. But I might take you up on that offer." * Michelle quirks an eyebrow at Jaret, "Oh, I haven't heard this story. Or do you mean when Martin arrived?" <Jaret> When Masato arrived, yes. * Michelle fills two mugs and sets them on the bar for Orlann and Tarri, "There you go." <Tarri> ::gives Meghan a quick, sympathetic smile:: Is Abby getting difficult already? I'd be happy to look after her occasionally, too. <Orlann> Much obliged, ma'am... <Tyl> ::to Zoya:: Well, I'm sort of basing it off the principle of transmogrification of ionic particles. ::she goes off into a technological bibble-babble that makes sense about one word in twenty:: <Meghan> ::nods to Tarri:: She's just getting to want more and more of my attention and it's hard to work with the other children and amuse her. I'd welcome any time you might like to stop by and amuse her ::She grins:: * Zoya bends over Tyl's parchment, fascinated. She points at a particularly complex construct, returning Tyl's technobabble easily as she suggests refinements or enhancements. * Orlann lights up. "I'd be delighted, ma'am, to take the wee one off your hands for a half-day or so." * Meghan laughs "Well where was everyone this afternoon when I had a screaming child on my hands!" She nods to Orlann. "Whenever you'd like." <Tarri> ::grins at Orlann and nods to Meghan:: We could do that. Poor thing isn't quite old enough to understand that she's not *entirely* the center of the world, yet. * Orlann grins. "Didn't know you had difficulties, ma'am." <Meghan> ::chuckles:: Yeah it wouldn't be so bad accept I have about 20 other children that I need to look after during the day as well. * Aldis enters alone, looking somewhat preoccupied. She wears a grey gown edged in dark blue with a matching cloak, which she hangs by the door before moving to a bar stool. "Good evening, everyone." <Orlann> Asides, I spent all afternoon with the bowyer, and I reckon she'd not be interested in watching me pull a bow-string near enough to fifty times. <Michelle> Good evening Aldis. Can I get you anything? <Aldis> A mug of meade, if you please, Michelle. * Jaret breathes deeply over the snifter, and takes a small amount of the brandy into his mouth. "Ahh." * Michelle fills a mug for Aldis and sets it on the bar in front of her. <Aldis> ::looking around there room:: Has there been more news? <Michelle> Not that I've heard. ::looks to Jaret:: <Tarri> ::shyly greets Aldis in understandable, if less than perfect, elven:: * Meghan nods to Aldis with a smile and then sips more of her wine. * Jaret shakes his head. "Very little. The one bit I've gleaned is the name of the dragon. Well, I heard the name, at least. It started with an N, and was long. They're calling it the Devil Dragon. Something about the shape of the horns. * Aldis smiles delightedly, and offers Tarri an elegant and complimentary greeting back in the same language. "You've kept it up! Have you had much opportunity for practice? <Tyl> ::mutters:: I hate dragons. * Meghan glances to Jaret "IS it coming this way?" <Tarri> Not much, I'm afraid, m'lady. But I try to keep my hand in. * Jaret shakes his head. "It looks like the army is consolidating its grasp on Arabel. There have been some small back-and-forth skirmishes with the Purple Dragons that have made it to the area, but nothing resembling real movement." * Glossaria enters behind a stack of thick books, the top of her pale green hair barely visible. She navigates between tables without dropping or bumping into anything, and shifts the weight of the books to one arm to feel the bartop for moisture before setting them down. <Zoya> ::grins at Tyl:: You didn't mind when one was on your side. ::glances around to hear Jaret's news, and starts as she notices the bar seems to have filled:: *Aldis!* When did you get to town? * Meghan nods and finishes the glass of wine. <Tyl> ::snorts:: Of course I did, I'm just not stupid enough to argue with it. <Zoya> ::sniffs at Tyl mock-indignantly:: Did you have a better shape to suggest for me? <Aldis> ::smiles at Zoya:: Good evening, Zoya. I arrived last week. My apologies for not paying a call... I'm afraid recent events have distracted me. <Tyl> ::grins:: How about a giant squid? <Michelle> Good evening Glossaria, what would you like this evening? <Zoya> ::to Aldis:: No mind; I've been swamped lately, myself. But now that I know you're here, you must come by. There are a few things I'm working on that I would value your expertise with... * Glossaria considers for a moment. "Tequila and lime, please, neat." <Zoya> ::to Tyl:: In the *desert*? * Meghan glances back and smiles at Gloss "Hello Gloss, how are you?" <Tyl> ::shrugs:: It would have been unexpected, to say the least... <Tarri> Gloss! ::she grins and laces her fingers with Orlann's, pulling him toward Glossaria's table:: I haven't seen you for *ages*! <Zoya> ::snorts:: Not to mention useless. <Jaret> Glossaria! It's been so long! How have you been? * Orlann nearly sloshes his cider out of his mug. <Glossaria> ::nodding a greeting:: Good evening, Meghan. In good health, though busier than the norm. ::smiles as Tarri approaches:: Good evening, Tarri. You *do* know where I live, you know. ::glances at Orlann curiously, craning her neck a little:: Unless, perhaps, you've been away touring Chult...? * Michelle puts a shot glass on the bar and fills it with tequila, leaving the bottle on the bar. She then pulls a salt shaker from beneath the bar and a lime. She cuts the lime up into wedges for Glossaria. "Anyone I missed?" <Tarri> ::laughs:: No, just that Master Bran's kept me awfully busy lately. ::She introduces Orlann to Glossaria:: * Orlann nods. "A right pleasure, ma'am. Tarri's told me rather a lot about you." * Meghan pushes her empty glass to Michelle. "Could I have another glass please Chelle?" <Glossaria> ::offering Orlann a small courtesy:: Indeed? You've known her long, then? * Orlann thinks back. "A few months, I reckon." * Michelle refills Meghan's glass, "She was that bad?" * Meghan makes a face and takes a sip. "It's a lot of things I guess." <Jaret> What's the matter, Meghan? <Meghan> ::glances to Jaret and shrugs:: Difficult daughter, trying to keep the orphanage from being scared a dragon is going to come attack the city, losing one of my staff, worried about funds, among other things. <Glossaria> Ahh. ::smiles:: Not so much, then. How did you come to know her? You're not a native of Chult, are you? Your accent appears to be local, if perhaps somewhat countrified... hm. Somewhere in the vicinity of Waymoot, perhaps? * Aldis takes a sip of meade, listening to conversations wash around her. <Orlann> ::draws his eyebrows together a little:: A mite ways west of there, ma'am... <Michelle> Who did you lose? <Jaret> I'm sure things will work out, Meghan. <Glossaria> ::frowning slightly:: Pardon me... do you mean "a small distance" or "the distance a very small burrowing insect can travel in the space of its lifetime?" * Tyl shakes her head and digs a charcoal pencil out of her pouch, marking an equation on one side of the parchment. "That might work, but..." She looks at Zoya. "What're my chances of finding a mage of your talents elsewhere?" <Meghan> ::looks to Michelle:: One of the women who comes in during the day and helps. Her eldest daughter is sick and she's going to take care of her full time." <Orlann> ::looks a bit startled, then laughs:: A smallish distance, ma'am. <Zoya> ::shrugs:: There are a few of us about, though skill level and mental stability seem to waver startlingly. But - all right, how about a more traditional approach? ::she launches into another stream of technobabble, and eventually pulls a pencil and a scrap of paper from her sleeve to make a sketch:: <Tyl> ::mutters:: That's going to make it expensive... <Zoya> ::gives Tyl a dry look:: Hardly beyond your means. Or mine, for that matter. What were you planning on using it for? <Glossaria> Hm. ::cocks her head to think a moment, and nods, satisfied, pulling a small notebook from her pocket and a bit of pencil from her hair to jot a note:: Excuse me just a moment, please. ::flips a few pages, nods, and puts the book away again. With careful, almost ritual movements, she licks the back of her left thumb, sprinkles it with salt, picks up a lime wedge, belts back the tequila, and bites into the lime, making a nasty face:: <Tyl> Old habits die hard... I've been a hoarder my whole life... must have been a dragon in a former life. No wonder I hate them. ::taps the drawing:: I want to power the ship and not have to share space with some mage I hardly know. <Tarri> ::smiles wryly at Glossaria's exactitude and leans against Orlann's side.:: * Orlann puts one arm around Tarri's shoulder. * Glossaria licks her lips. "That wasn't so bad." She looks at Michelle. "Is the nasty face traditional, or reactive?" <Zoya> You want the best, then. It'll be worth it, I think. * Glossaria raises her eyebrows at Tarri and Orlann's body language. <Tyl> ::nods:: Probably cheaper than hiring a new mage every two months when I get tired of them and throw them overboard. * Tarri gives Glossaria's eyebrows a faint smile. <Zoya> ::laughs:: Definitely. Also less likely to earn you a bad reputation. <Tyl> ::grins:: I've been feeling a bit Bluestarish recently... <Zoya> Erdian help the universe... ::she grins at Tyl:: <Michelle> ::giggles:: Mostly reactive. Though if you drink enough of it the face goes away. * Aldis takes another swallow of meade, picking up her meade and wandering over to peer over Tyl's shoulder. She raises an eyebrow in very Lisl-ish fashion. "You're leaving, Tyl'gainia? <Glossaria> Ah. ::smiles and tilts the glass back for the last few drops she might've missed, taking another suck of the lime.:: I find it quite pleasant, actually. <Tyl> Oh, good evening Aldis... Good to see you. And yes. After the spring semester is over, I'm going to take this jury-rigged bit of illithid craftsmanship - or would that be craft-octopus-ship? - and go find my wayward husband. <Zoya> ::grins:: Only this bit is jury-rigged. ::waves at Tyl's parchment:: As much as I loathe them, illithid build excellent ships and helms. * Meghan sips her wine and glances around, noticing that the place seems overly full tonight. <Aldis> ::looking faintly amused:: When I was *very* small, my ranger mentor taught me the best way to reunite with someone lost in the woods was to return to where you'd last seen them and make yourself as easy to find as possible. Tired of waiting at the signal fire, then? <Zoya> ::grins at Aldis:: I don't think the usual rules apply to Jelarthna, Aldis. I wouldn't mind having *my* ship back, either. <Aldis> Ha! You gave that boy your ship, Zoya? ::grins:: He *must* be persuasive. <Zoya> ::sighs mournfully:: I made him swear eight different oaths to do the task I needed him to do, and come straight home. I should have been more specific about "straight home", I suppose. <Zoya> I thought about going with Tyl, but Glossaria isn't quite ready to handle things on her own here, long-term. * Glossaria puts the shot glass down, turning back to Tarri with a smile and a look of burning curiosity. "So, have you been dating long? Do you love him? Have you--" She breaks off. "Oh... no, that one's not fit for mixed company. My apologies." * Orlann turns an interestingly dark shade of purple. * Meghan smirks at Gloss and sips more of her wine. * Michelle giggles, "You're learning Glossaria." <Aldis> Well, I'm glad at least one of you is staying. ::her smile sobers:: And I'm certain Cormyr will be glad, as well. <Tarri> ::grins and blushes faintly, a common expression when talking to Gloss:: Only a few days. I'm not quite prepared to answer the other questions yet, Gloss. * Jaret smiles and has some more of his brandy. <Glossaria> ::nods complacently:: Fair enough. Did... ::she bites her lip:: San went home, then? I've not seen him since the twinning incident. * Michelle grins to Gloss, "Get together with Temire and the two of you can probably work out a way to grill her sometime when Orlann's not around." <Zoya> ::gives Aldis a faint, sad smile:: We'll see. I suppose I should present myself to the Dragons and the War Wizards and see if they can find a use for me. Have you gone? * Tyl rolls her eyes. "I promised the students I'd stay at the *school* this semester." <Tarri> ::draws a breath slightly deeper than normal and nods to Glossaria:: San and I had some... irreconcilable differences, and he went home, yes. * Orlann tightens his hand on Tarri's shoulder comfortingly. <Aldis> ::looks wry:: There was a line. Merra's apprentice promised to-- ::the faint tinkle of an invisible bell sounds from somewhere around Aldis's head:: Speak, and she answers. ::she smiles and sets her half-finished mug down:: Time for me to enlist, I believe. <Zoya> ::grins:: I'll stop by tomorrow. <Michelle> Goodnight Aldis. Feel free to come back if they don't keep you too long. <Aldis> ::grins:: Best you do, or I'll have to draft you. ::undertoning behind her hand:: The rest of them can be so... *DRY*! <Aldis> Thank you, Michelle! Good evening! ::waves:: <Glossaria> ::cocking her head, her eyes sad:: My condolences, Tarri. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring you pain. * Tyl gives Aldis a quick nod. "Have fun. The War wizzies and I never did get on too well." <Aldis> ::pauses at the door to grin and wink at Tyl:: That's because you can think circles around most of them. ::waves again and exits:: <Tarri> It's okay. It's getting better, with time. <Glossaria> ::nodding:: I've read that time heals all wounds. It's certainly true in the physical sense-- well, except for the suppurating ones, of course-- but my surveys seem to indicate less to support it in regards to emotional or metaphysical wounds, unfortunately. <Tarri> ::in a "now-I'm-changing-the-subject" tone:: How's Vallie? I haven't seen *him* for an age, either. * Meghan finishes her second glass of wine and glances to Jaret. "So what are you doing about what's going on?" she smirks "I can't imagine you don't have your hand in it somehow." * Orlann blinks several times. "I'm afraid I didn't understand one word of that, ma'am." * Michelle waves Orlann off, "Don't get her started Orlann, or you won't get any sleep tonight." <Glossaria> ::smiles:: He's working. His senior thesis... he graduates this spring, if all goes well. <Jaret> For the moment I'm at a bit of a loss. Lisl, Felice and I went on a trip a few days ago, but we didn't find much of anything to tell. I have little experience in battling armies by myself, although if it comes to that, I'll do my best, naturally. <Tarri> ::startled:: Already? ::she counts back on her fingers:: Wow... Time flies. Tell him I said hello, at least, please. * Lisl 's voice sounds just outside the door, Aldis's returning it briefly. A few seconds later, Lisl herself strides in, her hunting leathers dusty with pollen and bearing the scent of woodsy spring. <Meghan> ::nods:: Well I hope it passes quickly. Seems we just had a dragon and nearly lost the city. <Lisl> Evening, all. Michelle, a mug of 'kick, please? ::takes a stool:: * Michelle fills a mug and carefully sets it in front of Lisl, "And how are you this evening Lisl?" <Zoya> ::looks up from her continued examination of Tyl's sketch to wave at Lisl:: <Glossaria> ::nods:: I will. ::gives Michelle a somewhat wounded glance:: <Lisl> ::sighs as she sits:: Tired. Full day. ::accepts the mug with a nod of thanks and takes a swallow:: You? * Tyl sneezes. <Meghan> Bless you. * Jaret nods. "But they rebuilt quite quickly. Having Yb in the area for all those years has made Marsember's Public Works department the finest around." * Tyl fishes out a handkerchief and blows her nose. <Lisl> ::smirks:: Yb... and demons... and dragons... the occasional group of cultists... ::shakes her head and waves a hand eastward:: In Kara-Tur, I understand it's a curse to say "may you live in interesting times." ::snorts:: <Tarri> ::eyes Lisl:: Now that, I understand. <Tyl> ::nods:: Sometimes I think about going back to Waterdeep. Things were so... peaceful there... half a dozen vampires, invisible mages, and kender wild-mages... peaceful... quiet... * Lisl shudders at the mention of "kender wild-mages." * Zoya looks intrigued. <Glossaria> ::sucking on her lime:: So, Master Orlann, what brings you to Marsember? <Michelle> I've been doing alright. Making arrangement to move in with either Deanna or Adam if that army turns this way. Letting the temples know how to contact me if they need additional healers. Running around making certain the others are all up to speed with what everyone else is doing. * King Azoun walks into the door of the Hall. He is a stocky, bearded man of average height, with brown hair shot through with silver, and is wearing his robes of state. "Drinks are on me tonight, if that's all right." * Michelle looks questioningly at the man who's just entered, "Good evening sir. I'm Michelle, I'm the barkeep this evening. Can I get you anything?" * Glossaria turns to look at the newcomer, does a double-take, and fishes a coin from her belt pouch to peer at the portrait on its face. * Meghan looks over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow, * Zoya looks up at the newcomer, double-takes, and straightens quickly, nudging Tyl. <King Azoun> Oh, a glass of meade would do just fine. * Tyl turns to look and pales slightly. She stands and bows low. "Your majesty." <Lisl> Depends who's-- ::raises an eyebrow at Tyl:: * Michelle fills a mug with meade and sends it on its way to the stranger, taking in the other patrons reactions. * Tarri looks up and freezes in surprise, paling. * King Azoun nods to Tyl. "Lady." * Orlann nearly knocks over his chair in his haste to stand. He bows, but says nothing. * Glossaria glances at Zoya to follow her lead, quietly tucking the coin away again. * Jaret scrambles to his feet and deeply bows. "Your Majesty." * Dulcea enters the hall in her normal outgoing way and quickly realizes something is different by the actions of the patrons. * Lisl studies Azoun with a faint frown, looking around warily. * Meghan glances around and then back to the newcomer, smiling a bit. <Tyl> ::recovers quickly:: We're honored by your presence, sire. * Tarri drops into a deep curtsey. <King Azoun> Thank you for the warm welcome. * Dulcea turns to see who everyone is looking at then drops into a respectful curtsey and smiles. "Your majesty." <King Azoun> This is... somewhat awkward for me. I assume you've all heard about what has happened to Arabel? <Michelle> Yes your majesty. * Meghan turns towards the King, suddenly paying much more attention. * Lisl stares off into space for a moment before nodding her head respectfully, and then nodding agreement. She takes a swallow of 'kick. * Tyl nods. "I daresay everyone has, sire. It concerns us all." * Dulcea moves to a table and takes a seat ... convinced that this may not, in fact, have been the best night to return to Marsember after all. * Tarri inches closer to Orlann, awed and intimidated. * Orlann takes her hand as they stand together. <King Azoun> The soothsayers and scryers and mages have come to a consensus, of sorts, that to stop the army there will be a decisive battle, I must be at it, and I must be wielding an Obarskyr family weapon -- Wyrmfoe. Wyrmfoe was lost over a century ago, in a conflict with a red dragon that was known as Grillek. * Tyl raises one eyebrow, her violet eyes curious. * Lisl works very hard at not making a face, her eyes sliding sidewards to Michelle. * Michelle turns pale and sits on the stool behind the bar. <Tyl> Oh. ::she blinks several times:: <Zoya> ::muttering:: That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard- ::she looks at Michelle:: ...Oh. * Orlann exchanges glances with Tarri. * Meghan glances at Michelle looking concerned. * Tarri shakes her head, as bewildered as Orlann. * Glossaria pulls her notebook from her pocket, flipping through pages. She sidles over to Zoya, holding out the notebook, her finger marking the relevant page. * Lisl hides a grin in another swallow of 'kick. <King Azoun> The last time Grillek was heard from... ::he pauses while Michelle seats herself:: ... she was in the Sunset Mountains, and had undergone some personal developments, and had gone to one of her strongholds to rebuild her strength. * Zoya scans Glossaria's page and nods. "I was afraid of that..." <Lisl> ::coughs, muttering:: That's one way of putting it... <Tyl> ::in an undertone:: The gods hate me. It's just that simple. <Lisl> ::undertoning to Tyl:: They don't hate you, Tyl. They probably love you. Trust me, that can be much worse. <Zoya> ::glances around, then draws a deep breath:: As it happens, Your Majesty, some of us are familiar with her. <Michelle> ::sigh:: It couldn't have been in the pile we brought back. That would have been too easy. * King Azoun smiles suddenly, his whole face seeming to relax. "As it happens, I had been told some of you might have encountered her before." <Tyl> ::shoots Michelle a bleak grin:: No, I'd have remembered something like a giant dragon-killing sword, I'm almost positive. <Michelle> I don't suppose your soothsayers happened to tell you how to kill her permanently. I don't really want to have to hunt her down a third time. * Orlann draws Tarri backwards into a darker corner of the room so they can sit out of way. * Meghan glances to Orlann and Tarri then back to the king. <Michelle> ::nods:: Yeah, Adam wouldn't have spent all this time trying to make one if there had been one already there. <King Azoun> The soothsayers have a difficult time telling me what day it is. When they do actually independently come together and give me something as coherent as this, I don't ask for more, I'm pleased with what I get. * Glossaria half-perches on a stool, having pulled her pencil from her hair and reclaimed her notebook from Zoya. She writes furiously, occasionally glancing up at the king. * Lisl has a small coughing fit, half-turning away to cover her mouth and laugh herself sick. <Zoya> ::laughs:: <Tyl> ::shakes her head at Michelle:: Why did I ever listen to you? ::sighs:: Money... you waved lots and lots of money at me... <Zoya> Perhaps you should get some new soothsayers, Your Majesty... ::she eyes Michelle:: I've done some research along those lines, Michelle. I was saving it in case she popped up again. I suppose this counts. Come by the Tower soon, and I'll fill you in. <Michelle> ::sigh:: The one time in my life I need money and it's going to haunt me forever. * Lisl gets her breath back and composes herself, taking another deep draught of 'kick. <Zoya> ::mock-piously:: The root of all evil... <Michelle> ::nods:: Someone will stop by soon, I'm not sure who yet. <Zoya> Unless... ::she turns to smile at the king:: You only needed information, and were going to ask someone else to walk into Grillek's lair? <Tyl> ::in elven:: {Oh, like it's *ever* that easy...} <Zoya> {Hope springs eternal.} * Lisl coughs again and grins. {He probably speaks elven, you know.} <King Azoun> Information I have plenty of. Unfortunately, my troops are currently engaged, or en route to prevent what could be the wholesale slaughter of a city. I was presented with some rather tall tales and possibilities, so... I'm currently scouring the countryside, looking for volunteers. <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: Probably. <King Azoun> {I never had the time to pick it up. Don't worry, carry on.} * Tarri makes a noise in the corner that sounds like something between a stifled sneeze and a cough. * Tyl grins. <Glossaria> ::frowning slightly:: {That... was an illogical statement...?} <King Azoun> Before anyone agrees... ::Azoun looks over the room, possibly shooting Jaret a glance:: <Zoya> ::quietly, to her apprentice:: A joke, Glossaria. <Glossaria> Oh. ::nods, looking surprised, and makes another note:: * Meghan glances to Jaret and reaches to place a hand on his shoulder. <King Azoun> Grillek's safehold is in the Abyss. She's had untold years to prepare it from incursion. And the War Wizards tell me that her phylactery is there, and so she'll fight tooth and nail to prevent anything from getting close to it. * Jaret reaches up to touch Meghan's hand, but keeps his eyes on the King. <Lisl> ::muttering:: Hm. Knew it would be handy someday to have friends there.... * Michelle sighs and puts her head on the bar, "Why do I feel like Jelarthna?" <Tyl> ::drops into her seat and drains her rum:: I knew I should have called in sick today. * Zoya pats Tyl's shoulder absently. <Zoya> Is there anything else we should know, Your Majesty, before we begin leaping to save the realm again? ::her lips twitch in what might be an amused smile:: <Tyl> ::pours herself another glass of rum:: Dead. I could call in dead. <Meghan> Someone would bring you back Tyl ::she smirks:: <Michelle> I think the furniture would be disappointed if you did that Tyl. <Zoya> ::mildly:: You don't *have* to volunteer, Tyl. You could stay here and see to the city's defenses instead. Gird your students' mental loins, as it were. * King Azoun smiles grimly. "I've told you what I know, which is scant little, I understand. If you have a question, I will do my best to answer it." <Tyl> ::shakes her head:: Overactive sense of responsibility... we didn't finish the job last time. I can't have learned that from Bluestar... <Michelle> How do we get to the Abyss? <Zoya> You might be surprised... ::eyes Michelle:: There are ways. <Tyl> Oh, that's the easy part, 'Chelle. The question is 'how do we get *back* from the Abyss?' <King Azoun> Vangerdahast knows of some portal spells that can get you to the proper layer. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: No, Michelle-- that's the easy one. The hard one is "how do we get back"? Hells... where's Drach when you need him? <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: We might bump into him down there. You never know. * Tyl exchanges a brief smile with Lisl. * Michelle shrugs, "Well I couldn't get there on my own so it was a fair question." <Zoya> What's *really* too bad is that Xarroch has been out of touch so much lately. ::sighs:: Ah, well. <King Azoun> I can instruct the War Wizards to produce something that can return you here once you're finished, if you would see a need for it. <Michelle> So let me see if I understand this correctly. We go to the Abyss, get this sword, probably having to kill Grillek and her minions again, then come back and get the sword to you, hopefully before this other dragon has overrun the country. Does that about sum it up? <King Azoun> Mostly correct. I've met with a Lieutenant Adiethian, and given him Wyrmfoe's scabbard. The scabbard has been modified so once the blade is sheathed in it, the blade and scabbard will teleport to me, from wherever it is, on whatever dimension. If you would take that along with you, I would appreciate it. <Michelle> ::nods:: That would probably be a good idea. I don't much relish the idea of being stuck there because the only person with me who could cast the portal spell got killed. <Zoya> ::half-smiles:: I was just going to suggest something similar. ::she bows:: I am at your service, Your Majesty. * King Azoun inclines his head. "Thank you, High Priestess." <Michelle> Oh. We might not have to fight her then. That would be nice. Far to simple to actually happen, but it'll keep me from waking up screaming in the middle of the night. <Zoya> ::gives Michelle a mock-indignant look:: Have a little faith. * Tyl gives Michelle a raised eyebrow. "I'd rather hate it if anyone got *killed*." She takes a deep breath. "Me, too. Bitching and complaining the entire time, but I'll go." <Lisl> ::runs both hands through her hair:: Gods above and below... there goes my trip back into the mountains... * Jaret springs from his chair. "Your Majesty! It would be my honor to take on this duty in service to you, and the people of Cormyr." * Meghan drops her hand from Jaret's shoulder and sighs softly, turning back to the bar. * Orlann says something to Tarri in a low voice. * Michelle shakes her head, "Well I guess someone had to be enthusiastic about this trip." * Tarri laughs weakly and responds.. <Lisl> ::glances at Michelle:: You've stolen from her *twice* and you think you're not going to have to fight her? High hopes, girl... ::shakes her head and slides off her stool:: I'll go. If only because I missed the last trip. ::grins a little:: With greatest respect, though, majesty... *you* get to tell my mother. <King Azoun> That's very nice of all of you. There's no need to volunteer directly to me. If you want to take some time to think about it. ::he eyes Lisl:: I think I might send her something in the post. She might calm down some in the time it takes her to arrive at Suzail. * Michelle looks indignant, "Hey I only stole from her once. Besides, do you know a better way to scrounge up a hundred thousand gold quickly?" * King Azoun almost says something to Michelle, but swallows the comment at the last moment. <Zoya> It depends on how you define "better", I suppose. <Zoya> Anyhow, if you want to make sure she doesn't come back, we have to get to that phylactery His Majesty mentioned. That's the only way to kill her. <Michelle> ::sighs and waves Zoya off:: Forget it. * Lisl grins wider and nods agreement with Zoya. <Michelle> ::nods:: I'll keep my eyes peeled. <Tyl> I. Hate. Dragons. <King Azoun> I'd prefer that she not come back, obviously, but the main goal... I have to stop this army. If I need this sword, so be it. I'm going to commit everything I can in the meantime, and hope that will be enough. <Zoya> I hate undead. We'll be starting out on even footing this time, Tyl. <Lisl> The gold and silver ones aren't so bad. Even the purple ones can be occasionally charming. ::grins:: For the rest, I heartily agree, Tyl. <Glossaria> ::clears her throat:: Mistress Zoya? <Zoya> ::raising an eyebrow:: Yes? * Tyl looks around at her friends, then pours herself another glass of rum. <Glossaria> ::holding her notebook, looking hopeful:: May I volunteer? <Zoya> ::firmly:: No. * Glossaria sighs, lowering her head. "Oh, well." * Orlann shakes his head. <Glossaria> ::looks up again:: Your Majesty? ::dropping a deep curtsey:: <King Azoun> Yes, Miss? What is it? * Meghan glances to Michelle and pushed her empty glass towards her. * Michelle silently refills the glass and says something quietly to Meghan. <Glossaria> ::biting her lip:: If it's not too much of a bother... could you share with us a precis of the latest news from Arabel? The reports in the Marsember Herald have been... sparse. * Meghan looks to Michelle raising her eyebrows and then nods firmly. * Michelle looks thankfully at Meghan. * King Azoun takes a deep breath, lets it out, and then speaks. "The army is composed mostly of orcs, interspersed with legions of goblins, ogres, trolls, and some other monsters. The dragon leading them is Nalavarauthatoryl the Red, who is... the sages debate it, but one of the largest dragons ever seen, if not the largest." * Tarri shivers and tightens her grip on Orlann's hand. * Orlann murmurs something to Tarri in a reassuring tone that probably isn't very reassuring. <King Azoun> The citizenry of Arabel does not appear to have been slaughtered outright, as far as we can tell, aside from... aside from the ranking nobility. The army hasn't made any demands as of yet, and so we're looking at them as invaders, rather than a city held hostage. * Meghan reaches down and twines her fingers with JAret's as she takes a deep drink of her wine. <Glossaria> ::blinks, her eyebrows climbing as she writes quickly:: There are reliable eye-witnesses from the city, Majesty? <King Azoun> Spy-witnesses, Lady. We've had limited success with scrying, we think the dragon's innate magic resistance is what's foiling things. <Glossaria> ::nods:: Ancient red dragons are-- ::blushes:: Oh. But you'd know that. <King Azoun> ::smiling:: Yes, but thank you. * Tyl knocks back the rum, then pours a fourth? Fifth? She eyes the bottle. * Glossaria looks strongly tempted to ask another question, but curtseys again. "Thank you, Your Majesty." <Zoya> I'll need you to drop your current work, Glossaria, and do some research for me. I'll need everything useful you can find on the Abyss. Try to stick to reliable accounts rather than hearsay. Since time is limited, concentrate specifically on any unusual effects in the region for spellcasting. <King Azoun> You're welcome, Miss. <Glossaria> ::nods:: Yes, Mistress. I have Xarroch's interview scrolls, and-- oh. Well, I suppose there's not time to teach you. ::sighs:: <Michelle> Well this is as good a time as any to announce it. Deanna and Adam are currently producing the highest quality blades they can. Anyone interested in picking up an extra weapon should see them before we leave. * King Azoun looks around to make sure that no other question is imminent and then slowly makes his way to the corner of the room Tarri and Orlann are sitting in. <Zoya> Xarroch didn't think I should try that sort of magic at any rate, and I agree with him. But the interviews will be helpful. * Orlann stands up hastily. * Tarri stands with Orlann, paling slightly as she drops into another curtsey. * King Azoun looks up at Orlann and sighs. "Corporal... I'm sorry. We didn't know they were there at all. I wish I could undo it all." <Glossaria> ::nods:: Some information on the *specific* layer towards which you might be travelling... ::her eyes lose focus, and she murmurs to herself a little:: Well, I'll give you what I can, Mistress. <Zoya> ::nods:: I'll talk to Lieutenant Adiethian tomorrow and see if his wizards can tell me something more specific. You'll do your best, I know. * Lisl watches over the rim of her mug, nodding to herself. <Michelle> Looks like I'll be spending my time brewing healing potions. Glossaria, could you find out if holy water has any effect on dracoliches or whatever they are. I didn't think to try last time and I'd rather not waste the energy making the stuff if it won't work. * Orlann bows low. "Sire... " He hesitates a moment, then straightens. "I don't reckon there was anything anyone could've done. Running over Arabel like they did... well, Sire, Bleakhill never had a chance. No one's to blame but them. Grief is good, but guilt is pointless." He looks a bit stunned at himself for speaking up. <King Azoun> I feel the same way, most of the time. Rationally, logically, I know that. But late at night, when everything's quiet... I just wanted you to know. <Orlann> ::nods:: Thank you, Sire... <Glossaria> ::nods, making notes in her book with a small frown:: I don't believe... well, I'll look again. <Lisl> ::mutters to herself:: Well... not *totally* pointless.... ::takes another drink:: <King Azoun> ::nodding:: As you were, with your ladyfriend, Corporal. ::he returns back to near the bar, closer to the door:: * Orlann flushes and sits heavily. * Tarri sits and laces her fingers with Orlann's, her hand shaking. <King Azoun> All of you who volunteered, thank you. Please use Lieutenant Adiethian as your liaison if you need to get in contact with someone before you leave. Gods watch over you in the dark places through which you must walk. * Tyl raises her glass. "Good luck to you and your soldiers. I think you'll need the gods more than we..." <Michelle> ::curtsies:: May the gods watch over you as well your majesty. <Zoya> ::drily, under her breath:: Rather literally, in fact... * Lisl picks up her mug, moving over to sit beside Jaret. She takes another swallow, and toasts the king. "And to you as well, your Majesty." * King Azoun reaches for his glass and raises it to Tyl. "Thank you." * King Azoun has a swallow, looks surprised, and has another. "Oh... that's quite good.. I must be going, however. Good night." <Michelle> Goodnight your majesty. <Lisl> ::grins:: Get home safe, sire. Although with that lot outside the door, I think you hardly need the well-wishes. * Tyl returns to her moody contemplation of the rum-bottle. <Tyl> ::under her breath:: I wonder if Jalavier can teach me to disintegrate things in a few days... * King Azoun grins at Lisl. "I'll still gratefully accept the blessing." He turns and makes his way out of the Hall. * Orlann lets out his breath in an explosive gasp. "Well, weren't *that* something else?" * Tarri lets out a half-held breath as the door closes behind the king. "I didn't just imagine that, did I?" <Lisl> ::glancing at Jaret:: You know, he's not a bad sort, for a king. <Jaret> It's been a while since it could be said... but I think that might have been a first, here, at least as far as I know. * Michelle puts a shot glass on the bar and helps herself to Glossaria's tequila, "No, you didn't Tarri." Knocks the shot back. <Lisl> Eh... technically, Fosst was a prince, you know. * Jaret grins and nods at Lisl. "Isn't he, though? I mean, he's still a *king*, but at least he's not... never mind. Perhaps later." * Glossaria hugs her notebook, eyes shining. <Tyl> ::snorts:: Technically, so's Ilarion... but he doesn't have that sort of presence either. <Lisl> ::grins, nudging Jaret:: I know *exactly* what you mean. * Michelle giggles, "For which Temire is probably more grateful than she realizes." * Zoya looks around for her mug to finish her drink, realizes she never asked for one, and shrugs. She stretches, her spine crackling, and sighs. "Well. I suppose I have work to do, then..." * Orlann blinks at Tyl, then blinks at Tarri. "I don't think I *ever* get the full story 'round here, do I, darling?" <Michelle> ::nods:: I think we all do. <Lisl> Aye. At least he promised to tell my mother... ::sighs:: Nah, she'll most likely flay me anyway. Maybe if I bring her back something interesting... hm. <Jaret> I have to pack. Write a letter to Lini. A long one. <Tyl> ::snickers:: Make sure this one doesn't fall behind the table... <Tarri> ::grins quickly at Orlann:: *I* don't *want* to know everything. I'd never sleep at night. ::she shivers, then sighs:: Let's go home, before anything else happens... * Michelle nods, "Do we want to set a date for our departure now, or later after we've had a chance to spread the word?" <Jaret> I have a brick on that endtable that has a very express purpose and reason for existing. <Michelle> Goodnight Tarri. If you see Temire before I do send her my way will you? * Meghan stands, a barely visible sway as she does so. "Good evening everyone. Michelle come and get Abby when you can." She turns and heads for the door. * Orlann nods and stands up. He rummages through his pocket and deposits a few copper coins on the bar. "Good luck and goodnight to you all." <Jaret> Good night, Meghan. I'm...sorry, we didn't get to talk more. <Zoya> I at least want to consult with Adiethian's wizard first, Michelle. <Michelle> Meghan, wait up, I'll walk you home. <Lisl> Later, I think. ::glances at Tarri and Orlann:: Night, you two. Safe home, and sleep well. ::grins:: If you can sleep. * Michelle pushes Orlann's coins back, "King Azoun's paying remember." * Meghan nods and waves him off and moves to step out. She stops and nods to Michelle. <Orlann> Oh. ::blushes a little and repockets his coins:: Thank you, it slipped my mind. <Jaret> I think we can wait a few days, try to contact people. But I don't think we want to wait too long. <Tarri> Good night, everyone... Good luck. ::she follows Orlann out:: <Michelle> ::smiles:: Quite alright. Lots of distractions this evening. <Lisl> ::grins:: He doesn't seem the sort to welch on his bar tab. Good family... his... ::frowns:: great-grandfather, I think, was also a dragonslayer. <Jaret> I wonder if it's his sword, then, that was lost. <Michelle> That would explain what they're doing with a dragonslaying sword in the family. * Zoya smiles fondly at Glossaria. "Don't stay up *too* late, now... I'll be in touch with the rest of you soon." She waves, and heads out into the night. <Glossaria> Yes, Mistress. ::grins, and starts re-stacking her books:: * Jaret finishes off his brandy. "As I said, I really should get to packing. Although I might go see where Dulcea went off to, after she slipped out of here in such a hurry." <Lisl> Doubtless... I'll ask Mother. She'll remember. <Michelle> Goodnight Jaret. * Meghan leans back against the wall her eyes on the floor. <Lisl> Night, Jaret. Sleep sweet. * Jaret fetches his hat off the peg on the wall and leaves the Hall. "Good night!" * Lisl drains her mug, and stands, looking around. "Michelle, you're walking Meghan? Gloss?" * Tyl grins and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a largish gold coin. "First time for everything..." She tosses the coin in the air and catches it again. <Lisl> ::gapes at Tyl:: You didn't! ::grins:: <Michelle> ::laughs out loud at Tyl's performance:: <Tyl> ::smugly:: He'll never miss it. * Glossaria shakes her head. "I'm alright, thank you, Mistress Lisl." She picks up her books and tucks them under her chin, heading out the door. <Glossaria> Goodnight, everyone. <Michelle> Goodnight Glossaria. * Michelle starts shooing the empty glasses towards the kitchen. <Lisl> ::grins:: Just in case, I'm walking *you* home. Besides... ::glances at the bottle of rum:: don't want you getting lost. * Tyl picks up the rum bottle. "Since his Majesty is paying, I think I'll just take this along..." She turns to Lisl. "Always glad of the company..." <Michelle> Goodnight Tyl, Lisl. * Tyl leaves the Hall, coin in one hand, bottle of rum in the other. * Lisl chuckles again and follows Tyl out with a wave. * Michelle finishes straightening the Hall and takes Meghan's arm as she heads out the door, leaning against the older woman, "Was I so wrong wanting to quickly make the money so I could retrieve my daughter?" * Meghan shakes her head a bit "I don't think so." She pulls the door closed as they step out into the night. |
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