| Logs |
2009 April 12
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Third Movement, Second Verse
There is a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, then Jorge says, starting to pull himself to stand. "Well... I should let you go about your business, then. It is getting a touch late for me, I fear, and age has not treated me well. I shall be here on the morrow, however. If you would be so kind, Vassillio?"
"Of course, Venerable Jorge." The aethyr rises to assist Jorge, then shortly the two of them have departed.
Jareth watches them go with a slight smile and continued silence, hands clasped behind his back. He doesn't even realize his breathing had altered until he lets out a sigh after the mortal's departure with the aethyr servitor.
Norris looks at Jareth. "Did ah miss sommat? Seem like yew and Mikal wuz...ah dunno...wary oh th' fella?"
Jareth shakes his head, brows drawing together, "I just... sometimes I have this feeling about people. And he just felt wrong."
Norris blinks. "Oh. Ah see." He looks at where the man dissapeared. "Ah dun suppose yer feelin told ya more n' that." He hmmphs and looks around. "Suppose we shoul be lookin fer books...cept seem like Mikal fell a cropper to her other 'self wakin, 'gain. Ah doan suppose yew learned how to read none? From spendin time wi' that archeologist, feller?"
Jareth thinks for a second, looking around, "Sadly, no. I just don't feel right about him." He reaches for the nearest volume to hand, flipping it open to see if he can make sense of it.
Occasional bits of words and phrases seem recognizable to Jareth as he pages through the book. But the language itself is foreign to him -- it is in Russian, whatever that is, and he knows, somehow, that he can't read Russian.
Jareth's brows draw together and he says, "Well... I recognize this word. I think it means "workers," but I don't know this language... maybe another one." He puts it back on the shelf and glances through another couple volumes, muttering, "If I can't do it now, I should learn. Can you imagine the number of stories in this place?"
Norris looks chagrined. "Yeah. Yeah, there's a lot o' books here." He suddenly perks up. "Wait...th' Bail tol' us what sections th' books we're lookin' are in, right? So that should make it easier?"
Norris says, "Ask th' bail iffn' it kin show us what th' letters what tell us which sections is which?" His face falls. "Oh...no, wait. Th' Bail jus told us o' this here place. An not more'n that."
Norris looks hopefully at the satyr and the tracker. "Doan suppose either o' yew know how t' read?"
Jareth tips his head to the side as he finds a language and slowly begins to read the words out loud, nodding, "I know most of this one. I think it's called 'French.'"
Norris perks! "Well, that's good, yeah? Uh. Are any of th' books we need in french?" He looks at the scrip that Mikal wrote on for the necessary books. "Uh. Durn. We needs t' know how t' read in order t' know what books we dun need."
Norris shows the scrip to Jareth, trying to puzzle it out with the other young man.
Jareth peers at is, seeing if any of the titles look like ones he might recognize. He seems to recognize a goodly amount of the titles as being in French, or something similar. He can't read all of them, but he recognizes the language in about ten percent of the books.
Norris is relieved that Jareth can make sense of at least some of them! "Okay! Well...let's start lookin fer what we kin, yeah? When we gots the place to ourselves, an not the creepy old feller ait about.
Jareth says, "Weeelll... I recognize some of them. I can sort of suss out some of the titles. Maybe one in ten of them." He nods to Norris, "We can at least try and match the words up on the ones I don't recognize."
Norris nods agreeably. "Lets do this thang." He looks sidelong at Jareth as they search. "Uh...Cat. Yew, uh...yew talk any t' Raven since th' last time?"
Jareth runs a finger along the shelves as he looks, not touching the books unless it's one he wants to take off the shelf, either because of the list or becaue it catches his eye for some reason, "Mmm? Ahh, no. I haven't." He clears his throat. There's a lot about taht experience he still hasn't worked out in his head.
Norris nods a little. Silence stretches out. And then the pretty boy suddenly finds himself the victim of a crushing hug. "Doan think ah ever said it. Ahm glad yew aint dead." he says thickly into Jareth's hair. "An I guess I's hoping yew coul' tell Raven 'thank yew'."
Mikal wanders back in with a book in hand, paging slowly through it, then looks up and smiles to see Norris and Jareth hugging.
Jareth blinks in perplexity. Norris has always been friendly and Jareth has always been quite fond of the other young man. But he's never been hugged by the blacksmith and it takes a moment for him to hug Norris back, patting him on the back and saying, "Well. Well now." He clears his throat surreptitiously scrubs at his eyes with his arm, "Maybe we'll get to see her a time when it's not one of us dead and we can thank her."
Norris beams. "Ayup, we should." He looks over at Mikal, and gets even more sunny! "heya! We's lookin fer books! Glad yew shows up jus in time, what with havin th' most readin' skills!"
Mikal grins shyly at Norris, carefully keeping her place in the book with a finger, as she leans to hug Raphael warmly about the neck as well. She's not sure why her packbrothers are so happy, but it makes her feel beautiful inside as well.
Jareth carefully disentangles himself from Norris and clears his throat again, holding up the book he's had tucked under his arm, "Found out I can read some of these."
Mikal giggles at Norris's comment, then happily says, "I don't know if I have the most reading skills, but from the little browsing I've done, there's about one in ten books here in runic, which I can indeed read!" She beams at Jareth, "Excellent! And there's another language I can mostly read too, which has about the same amount of books in it too -- isn't that cool?"
Norris looks relieved. Now they're making progress. Well, he'll just carry...wait. He takes out a book that catches his eye, because all of a sudden, all these meaningless squiggles coalesce into something he can interpret. Sort of. "Divine Comedy." he says to no one in particular.
With the nook to theirselves, they brose through the books present. A couple of the books appear to not be present, but that's fine; there seem to be more than enough in French, Greek, Italian, and Norse to make up for it. There isn't much in Norse about the angels, but in the other three languages there's quite a bit.
The laws of aethyrs' behavior are fairly straightforward, but diverse. All types of aethyr are different, and have different laws, but there are only a few of them for each. Angels are a type of aethyr known as a sceptre, in that they serve a particular god -- in angels' case, El-Amon-Re, as messengers and carriers of his word to others. The laws governing angels are almost childishly simple: Obey El-Amon-Re in all things; Be the embodiment of his Word; There is an absolute measure of ethics and morals as given by El-Amon-Re; Obey any who know an angel's True Name; and finally, the Salt of the earth shall ground the angel. It isn't clear why this last law exists, except that it seems to have been something that mortal myth has 'known' about angels for centuries.
Mikal frowns thoughtfully, pausing in her slow, reading-aloud translation to the others, and curiously asks, "So... how do you find out an angel's true name?"
Jareth smirks a little, "Odds are they aren't going to simply tell it to you. I do suspect that Azrael is not that bloody huge bugger's real name."
Norris himself, is mostly tickled pink that he can actually read a language! "Gotta wonder iffn' angels names actually written down anywhere by mortals, annat. Figger that's be a bigol secret."
Jareth chews on his bottom lip and glances over at Mikal, "What does the bail say?"
Mikal thinks a bit, then brightens. She sets her book carefully down, and starts to twist to her backpack -- then laughs at Jareth's question, "I was just going to ask! Moment..." She pulls out the ball and cheerfully says, "Hello, Bail! How do you find out an angel's true name, please?"
The Bail is silent a moment, before answering. [tt]"Most of that information has been expurgiated from most known libraries after the Godswar. One known way of possibly learning an angel's True Name -- or the True Name of any sceptre aethyr, for that matter -- is to bargain with it, to offer it somethnng in return of equal or greater value. The few records of this happening generally involve catching the angel in a compromising position where it must choose between death or worse, and being helped by the mortal in return for its True Name."[/tt]
Mikal looks surprised, "How do angels die? I thought they were immortals?"
Norris rubs his forhead. "That there lil ball is verra helpful....cept ah figger it's not gonna be easy t' put th' Angel o Death in a compromising position. Orta make him fear fer life."
The bail responds, [tt]"Immortal is not the same as invulnerable. Angels, like any aethyr, may be killed or fall upon a lethal mishap of some sort. Many angels have died in the ongoing (since the end of the Godswar) conflict between the angels and rakshasa."[/tt]
Mikal blinks again, "Rakshasa? Who're they?" She blinks again, then adds slowly, "Indian tiger spirit/demons? Here?"
Norris tries to be helpful. "Mr. Bail, sir...why izth' angels and rakshasa fightin?"
The bail answers, [tt]"The rakshasa are tiger demons, yes. They have been fighting with the angels since the end of the Godswar. This war is currently being fought on the upper slops of Mount Meru, where the rakshasa claim a vast redoubt. They are believed to be fighting because a deity of Mount Meru during the Godswar asked or ordered them to attempt to interfere with the plans of the Architect, El-Amon-Re. They carry out these last wishes or orders to this day."[/tt]
Mikal looks fascinated, "Wow, real rakshasa! I wonder if they're as beautiful as the legends say?"
Mikal thinks a bit, then cheerfully adds, "Are there any angel true names in this library?"
The bail answers, [tt]"If there were, they were removed by angels not long after the Godswar."[/tt]
Mikal looks thoughtful, then says slowly, "That... is not a direct answer. Who programmed you?"
Norris's brow knits. "Not sure how t' feel about that." He clears his throat. "Mr. Bail, sir...is th' deity what ruled th' rakshasa still alive? An if so, what's the name?"
[tt]"It is unknown if Shiva still lives, though it is considered doubtful. The rakshasa claim Shiva was destroyed by El-Amon-Re."[/tt]
Norris huhs. "Inneresting. The god's long gone, but the rakshasa are still killin angels. Wonder how many oh these tiger-fellas is still alive."
The bail answers Mikal, [tt]"If by 'programmed' you mean 'formed,' I was 'programmed' by the sorcerers of the Magi's Tower of the Winter Palace and the Throne of Dreams."[/tt]
Jareth murmurs, "Wonder where they got their information..."
Mikal says, "Ah! So your previous answer was due to your not knowing precisely, then?"
[tt]"That is correct."[/tt]
Mikal nods thoughtfully to Jareth, "Good point. Bail, where does your information come from, please, and how are you updated?"
[tt]"I am updated by exposure to information and being present at events. In addition, when encountering other bails, we exchange information. We are also updated in the presence of Oracles, who participated in the creation of the initial catalog of information we carry."[/tt]
Norris huhs. "Mr Bail, yew mean that by hangin around with us, you learn stuff? And are there any Oracles here? Or other bails?" She adds bemusedly, "I hadn't realized there were many."
[tt]"Yes; no; and none that I can notice. However, I can only notice other bails within a short distance. And there are not many. The Oracles did not wish us to be at all commonplace."[/tt]
Mikal nods thoughtfully, "All right." She sets the bail down on the table, "There -- so you can learn things too!" then goes back to slowly reading her book.
Norris looks at the others, seeming worried. "Mr. Bail, sir...does that mean if'n someone wi' a bail comes close to us, they kin learn things about us, too?" he queries carefully.
The bail answers, [tt]"No; we only collect information of a general nature, not personal. By way of illustration, I can inform other bails that the city of Thebes experienced a fire caused by arson and that the city prefects were investigating, but I am neither able to register, nor pass on to other bails, what, if anything, anyone was doing in Thebes at that time."[/tt]
Norris lets out his breath. "Okay. That's good. Real good."
Jareth muttered, "Damn good thing, that." He'd begun to stiffen with the thought. The bail had been in Mikal's things when he told them the story of his encounter with Raven.
Norris scratches his chin. "Mebbe we should pass on t' Raven that allyin wi' the rakshasa might be helpful-like?"
Jareth reads through the books he can comprehend, making notes of the ways to defend against various forms of aethyr. Occasionally, he reads something aloud, hoping the bail will be able to pick it up. There's a nervousness to him, still, perhaps an after-effect of Jorge's presence.
Norris pages through books himself...reading is one thing, understanding is another...thought it comes easier to him than he'd have thought. "Raven said we's important. Wonder if this Azreal thinks th' same thing." he murmurs to himself. "or if we's just itenerant souls t' put in th' Architect's basement."
Jareth shakes his head and frowns, "I think she wouldn't be in so much trouble if we were just another set of souls. She acted like what she was doing was very, very difficult and rare..." His brows draw together and his hand gropes out blindly, looking for Mikal's as the memory of those beckoning voices comes with the memory of Raven's decision. "I think she meant us in particular."
Mikal looks up from her own silent reading at the touch on her hand, her eyes a bit unfocused with how lost in thought she is. "Mm? What?"
Mikal blinks, her eyes focusing at Jareth's expression. Worriedly she says, "Ja- Cat? What's wrong?"
Jareth shakes his head and squeezes Mikal's hand with a little smile, "It was just very sad, watching her cry for me. I think she cries for everyone."
Norris repeats the highlights of what he and Jareth just said. "Ah guess I's just worried that mebbe th Angel comes back lookin fer Cat, then. S' a good reason t' protect ourselves from him."
Mikal nods earnestly to Norris, "Oh, yes! That's why I'm here, in fact. I want us to be able to defend ourselves as necessary from any of the aethyrs, first of all. After that I want to find weapons against the spider-wasps, or to aid Mara Sith of Dream in using the weapons she has against the monsters."
Mikal adds in unintentional fierceness, "I don't care what these aethyrs think -- I'm not going to just stand passively by while they try to harm my pack!"
Norris can't help but smile. "Yer sneakin up on Raph in th' size o' teeth department, Rabbit."
Jareth chuckles quietly and strokes the back of Mikal's hand with his thumb, "I agree. I really misnamed you."
Mikal blinks startledly at Norris -- then hastily touches her teeth with careful fingertips. After that she gives Norris a confused look, "What?!"
Mikal gives Jareth a confused look as well, glancing between the two young men.
Jareth smiles, a quirk of his lips, "He means you're getting quite fierce."
Norris smiles wider. "Not real teeth, Rabbit. If annehthing, figger yer arrows are yer teeth. Or claws. Ah's jus' sayin...yeah, whut he said."
Mikal's research takes her well into the night, when the light from Dawn fades to a murky starlit night. Having reached the extent of the bail's information catalog, the Library proves to be almost overwhelming with information. Protection against aethyrs being one of the things she was researching, she finds a lot on that subject. Armaros and aethyrs similar to him are actually 'fallen' angels, and while they do not obey the Architect, they are still vulnerable to salt and to those who know their True Names. (The library only has examples of True Names of angels who are known to have been destroyed, however.) The alfar appear to be among the vast majority of aethyrs who have no particular great strengths or weaknesses, besides of course cold iron. Rakshasa are similar to alfar except their vulnerability is to wood -- specificially wooden arrows, bolts, and piercing weapons. By the time Dawn begins to rise again and refresh the group, a lot of the basic laws regarding the most common aethyrs have been researched and are known to the group."
Much of what the group finds in this vein seems almost familiar, half-remembered like something they were taught very young and had forgotten until a passing comment or a stray thought brought back those memories again.
Information regarding the weapons is harder to come by, and a passing alfar librarian volunteers her help. The most important thing she provides is a compendium of what is known about weapons which can harm the Aqal spider-wasps. Obviously, though, this is information well-known to the Winter Palace, so she directs the group to the less-substantiated rumors, myths, and legends about potential weapons, as well as wimilar things that predate the Godswar. It isn't much, but somewhere in that morass of information there is bound to be nuggets of data that can help and that haven't been pursued yet.
The library also has an accounting of the spider-wasps that the Winter Palace alfar and the Throne of Dreams have defeated. Most appear to have been done by various circles of Mages, and thence only after building up an immense amount of energy over the course of a year. The Thunder Sword, currently wielded by Captain Vijdis, who gave the group the bail, comes in second place. Of the handful of remaining cases, most involve some sort of artifacts which destroyed themselves in the process (but which, it is noted, were not Lotus Seeds; rather the artifacts were not well-understood.) These were early on in the attempts by the Winter Palace to destroy the spider-wasps. ANd there are a few sad cases, poorly documented, where great and terrible sacrifices of many warriors did, eventually, manage to kill a spider-wasp or two... but the Winter Palace never fully recovered from those first instances.
As for Mara Sith, she is the Throne of Dreams. Believed to be of a particular tribe of aethyrs known once as sidhe or sith, she became Throne of Dreams sometime before the Godswar, granted the title and power of that role by the prior Throne, Titania. She calls herself 'Mara Sith' because there is an infamous mortal who has a hermitage somewhere in the Dreamtime who is called 'Mara,' but he is not a sociable sort and it is generally recommended that people avoid him. Mara Sith, on the other hand, adores mortals and loves them as much as if not more than Armaros, some say, and has always sought to protect them from the Architect as well as from the spider-wasps. She united the warring tribes of the ljosalfar and dokkalfar just after the Godswar, in fact, with this as her aim; the alfar now follow her loyally.
Norris is exhausted by the time it's all done. "Guh. It's too bad salt doan make much o a good weapon. Or armor."
Jareth smiled crookedly, "Does salt weaken iron? We could take some iron, infuse it with salt and awen and make some arrows that would be deadly to a lot of things."
Mikal is looking sleepily determined -- or determinedly sleepy; it's hard to tell. Firmly she says, "Salt makes an excellent weapon, Bear! I think we all ought to pick up some of each of these things, so we're well defended. A nice staff with a point, my arrows, some salt in a bag, some of that blue woad stuff... we already have cold iron... I want us all to be well protected!"
Mikal frowns consideringly at Raphael, adding doubtfully, "Maybe... some armor for you, Raph...?"
Norris opens his mouth, and then closes it. "Ah dunno. Salt aint zactly a metal...but mebbe there's some magickal way t' merge salt wi other things. Not an alloy, but sommat else.
Norris scratches his chin. "Haveta get back t' the palace. Talk wi th' forgers there.
Mikal frowns again as she tries to remember, "Cat? What did we use to slay the golem?"
Jareth says, "We lashed an awen-coin to one of your arrows and hit him in that word on his forehead."
Mikal says, "That's right." She nods firmly, "All right, we'll add that to our arsenal -- awen."
Mikal says, "And as we learn more, we'll add more. With luck we won't have to use any of it -- but I believe luck favors the prepared!"
Norris is already thinking hard about it. Some rock salt, Jareth's clothes...unless he can teach Jareth to wear armor? Actually, wearing armor is a good idea in general for protecting the goatherd!
Mikal asks Raphael thoughtfully, "Wolf, would you be willing to wear a backpack?"
Raphael looks at with Mikal with what looks like a cocked brow. He lets he know that could affect his balance and hinder his ability to run at astonishing speeds.
Mikal hms and nods slowly, "All right. But if we're ever unfortunate enough to be attacked by crazy aethyrs, I want you to stick real close to me, okay?"
Norris headtilts. "Maybe Saddlebags? Horses wear em."
Mikal shakes her head to Norris, "He says he'd rather not."
Raphael does note that it really depends on the size of the bags and pack. If it's light enough, he should be all right.
Norris says, "Ah spose so. Ifn wolves wuz meant to carry things, they'd have been made with pockets."
Mikal blinks at Raphael, "Really? Oh, why didn't you say so, silly? I just wanted you to carry some salt, and maybe a wooden stake if you thought you could use it sideways in your mouth."
Mikal giggles at Norris!
Norris beams. "Huh. Ah wonder ifn ah kin infuse Raph's teeth with salt. That way he kin bite angels, an his food will allus taste better!"
Mikal laughs, but shakes her head, "That much salt is bad for you, Bear."
Jareth watches the two making plans with an affectionate smile.
Mikal sits up and stretches, "Well! We've learned a bunch of good things. So! Let's go put them into practice, okay? We've got some shopping to do before we head off to... to... um, what is our next goal, please?"
Norris phoos. "Well, s' an idea, annehway. Th' palace, ah think? Talk t' the Throne, see if somma this infermation kin be helpful t' Raven?"
Mikal nods firmly, "That's right -- and after that, we're going to go into the Wyld with Tigermouse! Er, mus... I think?"
Jareth chuckles, "Tigernmus. And, yes, the Palace next. We have two aethyrs to deliver safely."
Mikal nods cheerfully, "Right!" She bounces to her feet, adding happily, "Let's go! I want to see some progress here!"
Norris sits back in his chair. "Ah get warm feelins in mah belly, knowin that pissant soldier is nivver gonna find out who we is."
Mikal giggles at Norris, packing her backpack back up, then calls, "C'mon, you guys!" as she nearly skips out of the Library. She wonders a bit perplexedly what was up with the old guy from the previous night, but isn't that concerned -- for now, it's back to the Winter Palace!
The group makes their way back to the Winter Palace, having completed all they were asked to do in Thebes. The trip takes a little under a week, and it's about 'noon' when they reach the gated wall and the towering white walls of the Winter Palace proper beyond.
Ataraxos is glad to have returned, but Ghaniyah is visibly freezing. This is MUCH colder than Jericho! She manages to make some temporary warm clothes but it's clear she's going to need some time to deal with the mild winter weather of the Palace.
Almost as soon as they arrive, they are hailed by one of the gate guards, and told that Seneschal Brehon Rowan has asked to see them as soon as they return.
Norris is, now, happy to be wearing armor again. Keeps him warm. And he has the hat that Mikal got for him! He loves that hat.
Mikal laughs and waves back at the guard as they're hailed -- she's oddly excited to be back, and standing on Iron Antlers' back to see further. She's wrapped up warmly again in her pretty clothes that she first imagined for herself, and bouncing lightly on the toes of her soft-booted feet.
Mikal beams at sight of Norris's hat, "Oh, you kept it! I'm so glad you like it, Norr!"
Norris nodnods. "Pretty cunnin, aint it." he drawls contentedly. "Man who wears this hat aint afraid o' nothin." He absently wonders why that phrase sounds so familiar.
Mikal blushes delightedly, giggling and bouncing on her toes again. Iron Antlers snorts amusedly, breaking into a long-legged, rambling trot at her excitement.
Jareth grins and waves to those that greet them, starting to feel a little antsy, since he's fairly certain he's going to have to tell about his encounter with Raven.
Mikal bounces lightly down, rolling easily to shed inertia and then smoothly back up to her feet again as they arrive at the building, "Here we are -- home again, home again, jiggety jig!" She wonders for a moment where that came from, then giggles and simply unfastens the girths on Iron Antlers' decorated saddlepad. "There you go, big guy -- go roll and scritch your back and stretch out and talk to all your friends! You've worked hard and deserve a break -- and thank you!"
Norris headtitlts. "Iron Antlers has friends here?"
Mikal looks around happily, wondering if Okari's anywhere around, as she sets the saddleblanket/pack down out of the way, "Let's let all the horses loose for now too, shall we? Bet they'd like that for a bit." She laughs at Norris's query, "Of course, silly! This is his home -- his herd is here!"
Iron Antlers snorts a bit, and walks rahter stately towards the forest; if anything he seems rather proud of his status as a stag-rider's mount.
The group heads up to the Palace itself, and to the map room within where they have routinely met Brehon Rowan. The alfar is there, having just completed another interview, and brightens when she sees the group. "Ah, you've returned!" she says. "Welcome back. Thebes sent a courier who arrived a couple of days ago, telling us what happened. We're very pleased to managed to save the consulate staff."
Norris ohs. "Hey, that's right. Fergot we met him inside the wall."
Norris bobs his head towards Rowan. "Yes ma'am. An we got whole bunches of developments an infermation besides."
Mikal grins and companionably slaps the rump of the last of the ponies trotting eagerly off, "Have fun, you guys! Do what Iron Antlers tells you, and come to the barn later for some oats!" After that she skips happily after her friends, humming cheerfully to herself.
Mikal beams, "Yeah, what Norris said -- we stopped-! Um... drat, what was his name, guys? The obnoxious guy? Oh, and this is Ghaniyah!"
Norris ahems, looking wryly at his friends. "We coul' be wanderin all over th' place talkin bout stuff. Best ah think we ennumerate things one at a time."
Mikal oopses and looks sheepish, "Sorry. Go on, Norr!"
Norris uhs at the suggestion that he speak for the group. And then he thinks about it, shrugs, and decides to do that. He tries to give a straightforward account of everything that happened since they left: the goblins they met at night, and the bargain that was struck. The brief layover in Alexandria, and the thieves they stopped. Then Thebes, the assignment they were given, and the events in jericho, from the archeologist, to the soldier, to the completion of asignment. That leads to meeting Ghaniyah, and then the fire and the confrontation back in Thebes with the murderers, and the professional assassin. And finally, the library. He does *not* cover Jareth almost dying: he figures that's his story to tell, in more privacy.
Rowan listens silently; much of this she has heard, but not personally from the group; she obviously likes the word of people who were there. She greets Ghaniyah courteously and welcomes her to the Winter Palace, and notes that she'll have arrangements made for someplace for her to live if she wishes. Ghaniyah notes that she's grateful but will instead find someplace in the forest, if that would be all right.
Mikal nods approvingly to the other mortal woman, "Good choice -- it really is much nicer in the forest, even though it's astonishingly domesticated!"
Mikal blinks, suddenly realizing just how many folks they'd sent on to the Winter Palace. Curiously she asks Rowan, "So... did the goblins and the other folks in the carriage make it here okay?"
Rowan nods, smiling wryly. "They did, yes. The goblins were in particular a surprise, but a welcome one. Elbrecht in particular welcomed them like long-lost kin. Some of the ljosalfar were a little wary but the goblins will make fine allies, I'm certain.
Mikal beams delightedly, "Oh, good! And the other people?" A little sadly she adds, "They were so scared."
She nods again. "The merchant family? Yes, they made it as well."
Mikal looks pleased, settling cross-legged in her chair, "Fantastic! So... um, now what? We were thinking of going with the Tigernmus into the Wyld to search for really big monster weapons and to practice our will power. Is there anything you'd like us to keep an eye out for? Also, is Okori around? We found out where more kitsune are!"
Norris says, "Also, if'n it please yew Senseshal, kin yew tell us what's goin on with Mordred's army? Any developments onnat front?"
Jareth listens to the story, being unusually quiet. When Norris has covered the basics, he steps forward, "Raven is in trouble."
Mikal smiles at Jareth, pleased he's chosen to share this. She figured it was his story to tell, after all.
Rowan says, "Tigernmus arrived at the Palace a week ago, and has had a few audiences with Mara Sith, but not much more than that. If you feel comfortable going out into the Wyld at this point then... well, that's a heroic undertaking, and we'll of course help you as best as we can. Okori as best as I know is around still, recovered from her cold." She purses her lips a bit. "Mordred has taken over several settlements out towards Mount Olympus, and is currently digging his army in there and fortifying the region. THis news has only recently come to us and to be honest it's got many people concerned, naturally. However, it also means that he is not likely to move against the Winter Palace right away, and has allowed us to put spies in the region; an army at rest is easilly spied upon.
Rowan says, "There is one other thing that I should mention--" She breaks off when Jareth mentions Raven. She says, carefully, "I was going to say... nobody has seen Raven at all in the past week. We have been told that perished mortals still disappear, as if Raven were still bringing them to Hades, but we have not actually seen her. She would occasionally be seen before, and even could be approached here in the Palace. But as of a week ago... neither hide nor hair of her. Do you know what happened to her?""
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