Bough -- Logs

It is some time later, perhaps an hour or two, with the light appearing as if noon. The raksasha encampment is having their noonday meal. A runner has come by the open-sided tent with some light food and chilled sweet lassi to drink. The lassi in particular is quite refreshing; the plateau is high up the mountain but it is still rather warm here.

Mikal is starting to get a little restless -- not only are they in the middle of a city-like encampment full of strangers, but some of them are staring at her! She wishes they could either close the tent, or wait outside the encampment.

Not long after lunch is delivered, there is a clearing of the throat beside the entrance to the tent. It is Lord Ravana.

Unless her packmates ask her to stay with them, Mikal tends to wander over to study the edge of the plateau... her gaze is getting a little longing as the hours go by.

Mikal glances over her shoulder towards the tent at the small noise, then sighs quietly and starts to turn back towards the plateau -- and then it hits her: maybe the rakshasa have decided already? She bounces lightly to her feet and trots back to the tent to hear what the decision is.

Ravana's very white teeth flash in his dusky face as he notices Ninshubur at the edge of the plateau. Mortals in general are quite fascinating, but the apparently bashful woman has particularly caught his attention. And despite Asmodeus' words and the hint from the pretty bard that Ninshubur has a lover with her, the lord of the rakshasa has come to see if he can tempt her into a dalliance... and perhaps after to learn mor of her. He is carrying a jug of cool, sweet wine and bows low as Mikal comes toward him, "It is a breathtaking view, is it not?"

Mikal slows warily, eyeing the rakshasa lord and nodding silently. She comes to a halt next to the tent -- she's pretty sure she's safe with her pack close to hand -- and asks softly and hopefully, "So... you and your generals have come to a decision, then?"

Raphael comes pacing out of the tent and settles next to Mikal, his slitted golden eyes on the rakshasa lord. The young woman goes a little pale as she realizes her pack is momentarily... elsewhere, and her head snaps around to stare wide-eyed at Ravana. She looks like a young fox caught in the headlights, in the instant before she vanishes.

The lord of the rakshasa pulls a long face, and it looks fairly believable, "Generals rarely decide anything so quickly, lovely Ninshubur. They, like the rest of the camp, are taking their midday repast and rest." The bright smile flashes again, eyes the color of rich loam gleaming beneath coal-black brows, "But they will come back to it once they have eaten." His voice lowers as if to impart a confidence and he leans toward Mikal, "However, I am beginning to think it will be possible. And your bard's words have moved me..."

Mikal starts to lean back as the much larger man leans towards her.

Ravana straightens and holds up the jug of wine, "In the meantime, I brought a gift. A token of my hospitality. Would you share it with me?"

Mikal stares silently up at the huge man -- no, aethyr, that's right. Sceptre, even. It takes her two or three tries to get her voice to work, so she can cautiously whisper, "W-w-w-... w-wh-what is it?"

Ravana doesn't yet take a step into the open-fronted pavillion, "It is wine. A sweet, cool wine, good for laying the dust in the throat of weary travelers." The smile remains on his face and his dark eyes flicker over the nervous girl in appreciation before coming back to her face. "Will you share a cup with me?"

Mikal remains quite still for several heartbeats -- long enough that it's a bit awkward feeling -- as she struggles internally. She wants to just say no thanks; she doesn't really need nor want wine, after all. Plus he's scary, he has a creepy reputation, and she's alone but for Raphael -- instead of securely centered in the middle of her small but very loyal pack.

But... Jareth really wants to help Raven...

Mikal finally manages to get out in faint tones, "One. All right. Just one." She backs carefully up toward the pavilion, settling on the edge of it so she has lots of exit options.

Ravana's smile broadens and he folds himself into half-lotus beside Mikal, not quite close enough for his knee to brush against her. Even sitting, he is a formidable figure of a being. From somewhere, he produces an earthen cup and pours it half full of the clear, garnet-hued wine, which he offers to Mikal. The cup seemed small in his hand, but sits rather large in Mikal's. His own cup is rather larger and he fills it rather less full.

Mikal finds herself reflexively holding the cup in both hands, and she gives Raphael a worried glance. The big raptor wolf snorts in quiet amusement, gently nuzzling her cheek as he settles his large body firmly between the two of them. Mikal looks relieved, hastily putting her cup down so she can back up to make room for him -- which puts her further away from the rakshasa lord. She leans to give Raphael a quick hug, then straightens and essays a slightly shaky smile, "Er, th-th-thanks."

Ravana watches Raphael interpose himself between the rakshasa and the girl with a measure of amusement. He has no doubt he could overcome the raptor-wolf with little effort, but he has no desire to quite literally lose his head. "You seem fearful, Ninshubur. I assure you, I mean you no harm. I would be a poor host to offer you food and shelter and then attack you."

His smile is gentle and perhaps a little coy, "And an attack on a mortal, especially one so lovely as yourself, would be against the nature of our promise."

Mikal eyes Ravana warily, whispering, "W-what promise?"

Ravana takes a sip of his wine, hoping to perhaps persuade Ninshubur/Mikal to drink hers, "Our promise to Krishna."

Mikal blinks, suddenly curious and interested. Her voice is a little stronger as she inquires, "Wh-what was that? Um... if you d-don't mind my asking?"

Ravana's eyes shift to gaze out over the plateau and his voice takes on an almost sing-song cadence, "In the days before the Architect's despotic reign, Lord Krishna realized that the mad god was plotting to kill the other rulers of Heaven. In his wisdom, he saw what burden would befall the mortals if the Architect were to come to full power. This made his heart heavy and he sought out the rakshasa, entreating us with sweet words and the wonder of his presence to do battle with the winged agents of the mad god, distracting them and giving aid in that way to the mortals of this land."

Mikal has been fidgeting slightly, inching almost surreptitiously away from the rakshasa lord. When he starts telling the story while looking away from her, though, she goes still, listening in silent fascination.

She's even forgotten the big cup of wine, which is now closer to Raphael than she. He leans forward and laps up a bit while no one's looking.

The leader of the rakshasa raises his chin, pride and determination in his gaze, "We gladly took that vow onto our shoulders and have done battle with the angels, standing as the walls around Krishna's palace between the mortals and the angels. We stand against the Architect's lackeys and fawning servants, keeping their attention away from the Palaces and giving the mortals time to come to their strength." He turns to Mikal, smile flashing with some litle enthusiasm, "And the battle against them is fierce and glorious."

Mikal frowns puzzledly, staring out at the plateau, "The... palaces? We're supposed to be strong in the palaces, then?"

Ravana smiles, but does not laugh, "I mean only that we give the mortals time to grow strong enough to turn back the angels."

Mikal's bright, intensely fascinated gaze flashes abruptly up to Ravana's as she says, "When is that? What's needed to turn them back?"

Ravana's voice lowers slightly, the tone holding just the smallest bit of intimacy and admiration, "As you and your friends wish to do. Such bravery it must have taken to even embark on this journey." As he speaks, he leans almost imperctibly toward Mikal. His height lets him clear Raphael by a bit before his presence becomes looming.

Mikal straightens up abruptly, her frown returning, "That does not really answer the question, Lord Ravana, does it?" She looks towards the plateau again, although this time she seems to be more grimly musing than avoiding, "Still... if you do not know, you do not know. Hm... if we could somehow unite the mortals and arm them with, say, salted wooden arrows..." She's silent a moment, her storm-gray gaze far away... then she sighs and shakes her head, "We'd need to know how to defend them against fire and aerial attack first, that's right. Hm..." She goes silent again, still visibly musing.

Raphael's tongue lolls out in amusement, and his sideways glance at the rakshasa is faintly sympathetic.

Mikal shakes her head abruptly, "Darnit! I forgot -- the arrows can't be wooden if rakshasa are with the mortals, can they. Hmm..." She falls silent again, resting her chin on her fist as she thinks.

The rakshasa is a bit bemused, but still fascinated. One hand moves to touch an errant lock of Mikal's hair. Voice still quiet and intimate, as if he's speaking for a close companion, Ravana says, "The Architect must be stymied for good. The cursed Aqal are only part of the problem, the one that is strong and frightening. Like the loud cry of the bird that wishes to frighten off its predators, they are the noise and fluttering. The angels would be a more serious threat if we did not stand between them and their goals. We could stand before them, doing Krishna's bidding and protecting the mortals, until all the universe was enlightened and still we would be no closer to truly overcoming the Architect. Only mortals have that power."

Ravana is almost leaning against Raphael when he speaks, "And there are ways to overcome the mad god without doing direct battle with one who believes himself master of the boundless universe."

Mikal glances distractedly sideways at the touch on her hair, then pulls back and pushes the rakshasa's hand away, "Don't do that, please. I'd rather hear how to defeat the Architect."

Mikal has slid rather firmly into her strategic mindset, and being intimate is seriously not a part of that. She doesn't realize it consciously; it's simple self-defense.

Ravana pulls his hand back at Mikal's request, "We can speak of the Architect while enjoying the pleasure of one another's company, Ninshubur."

Raphael sighs amusedly and sits up, blocking with his body at Mikal's mental request, [Could you get in the way when he does that or something, Raph? Feels weird.] She nods, "Good. Go on?"

A trace of irritation flashes across Ravana's face at the raptor-wolf's interference, but he reins it in, reminding hismelf firmly of his reasons for staging a seduction rather than a ravishment, "Please, drink your wine. It is considered polite."

Mikal blinks at the rakshasa, then looks at the wine, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but... well, there's an awful lot o- oh! I know!" She brightens, reaching to scoop the big cup up in both hands, and beams at both Ravana and Raphael, "We can share!" She has a small sip, then leans forward to pour some into Ravana's cup, "Hold your cup out, please?"

Raphael settles down again, seated much like a sphynx with his head up and his forepaws out.

Ravana laughs softly and says, "I am honored by the thought, Ninshubur, but I have my own." He shows her his own cup, well under half-full, "As for defeating the Architect, were it so simple it would be done long ago. But I do know that mortals have an effect upon their gods. The complex, beautiful and confusing minds of the mortals are mirrored in their gods. The mortals that worship Lord Krishna have minds full of stories and explanations and wonder and fear. But each mortal holds different dreams and fears, so the gods changed and grew to encompass them." He laughs good naturedly, still leaning slightly against Raphael.

Mikal reaches out quickly to try and pour some of the wine into the cup being shown to her, "Nono, it's only polite!"

Ravana's eyes flick back over the plateau, gaze distant as if he is lost in memory or thought, "I believe it is this power in the minds of mortals that may be the key to crippling the mad god and perhaps freeing the mortals to dream their own dreams instead of the nightmares woven by the Aqal."

Ravana laughs at Mikal's insistence and salutes her with his own cup before taking a hearty draught, "There are some holy places, places as old as the minds of gods and mortals can comprehend, that may hold more answers than I can give."

Mikal looks faintly relieved as she manages to quickly and neatly pour some of her wine into the rakshasa's cup. Raphael inches sideways as he's leaned on, which causes Mikal to set the cup down and move herself further away as well. She smiles at Raphael, "Have some if you'd like, big brother?" then looks up at Ravana again, "Holy places? Are these the palaces you referred to?"

Ravana smiles broadly, "I see you are much like the rakshasa, who call tiger brother. Are you as fierce as this one you call big brother? The one that spoke earlier called you fierce."

To Mikal's question, he replies, "No, I referred to Winter and Summer Palaces, sweet Ninshubur." One hand starts stroking Raphael's back, reaching so that he's petting on the side closer to Mikal.

Mikal looks up at Lord Ravana, and for a moment her small face goes still and thoughtful -- and curiously fearless. She remembers suddenly where and how her Lady received the holy me, the sacred measures of being civilized and human: by drinking with Her father Enki. When he was quite drunk, he'd given them all to his daughter Inanna: one after another, and she'd accepted them all and left with them while he was sleeping off his extravagant drinking. He'd awoken before the Boat of Heaven had reached Inanna's people, and sent terrible monsters to retrieve the treasures he'd sworn now belonged to Inanna, but she had called on her sukkal, her vizier and right-hand woman and companions: Ninshubur.

Mikal slowly smiles -- she'd defeated all the monsters, and Inanna had safely brought the sacred treasures to Her mortal people. Internally Mikal prays, [Dear Lady of Heaven, is there a treasure I can retrieve from Ravana for the mortals, just as you did with your father Enki? If there is, show me a sign, please? Let me know, and I will do my best to be as your hands once more here, to bring aid and courage and strength to your people.]

"The holy places are very, very old. They were old when the godswar began." His voice is still warm and inviting, quiet enough that Mikal will have to stay close to continue listening. "The ways to them are perilous and long and I have not had anyone to spare for such a treacherous pilgrammage. But they may have information... perhaps even artifacts. Like that bow on your back."

Mikal raises an eyebrow -- he recognized the bow?! Fascinating; she'd had it take on a deliberately different look to forestall that.

Ravana's voice is a little coaxing, "We have no treasures here. Those that we had have been given to my warriors to fight the accursed angels. But I know of a handful of other places you might look... and I will tell you of them." His smile takes on a look of flirtation, almost like the look Mikal has seen on Jareth's face when he's teasing a prospective lover, "in payment for a kiss."

Mikal leans back abruptly, frowning, "You would sell the mortals so lightly?" She shakes her head, and picks up her cup, having a small sip before she settles it in her lap and turning her gaze deliberately out over the plateau. Her voice is musing, "Fierce... I suppose I can be. For good enough reason."

Ravana blinks and then laughs, "Sell the mortals? To one who wishes to save them? I would not sell the mortals. I took a vow and that vow is sacred. I would give you information of things that may help you in your journey and in your quest. That is far different than selling something that I do not own."

Mikal turns to glance back at Ravana, a small smile on her face, "Ah, I am reassured! And you are correct; this is very nice wine. Thank you." She raises the cup to him, waiting for him to raise his as well.

The leader of the rakshasa smiles, "I only meant to offer you something you would like to have for something I would like to have." He laughs and raises his cup, "You are very welcome, Ninshubur."

Mikal grins, her eyes dancing with mischief, "To... to mutually beneficial arrangements, then!" She leans so she can lightly tap her cup against his, then brings her cup to her lips, watching him over the rim.

Mikal is watching carefully: will he drink, or not? Will he sip lightly, or take a mouthful?

Ravana takes a good sip of the wine to show his enthusiasm for the proposition. His eyes are watching Mikal as well, holding her gaze for as long as her eyes are looking over her cup.

Mikal beams as she also tips her cup, and for a moment her eyes aren't visible behind the big cup he gave her. When she lowers it she's licking her lips, and she grins, "Now you! What is your salutation to this sharing?"

Ravana's eyes stray to Mikal's mouth at the apparently innocent gesture and he grins at her, "To fierce warriors with eyes like the most beautiful agates and the downfall of the mad god."

Mikal grins again, "Yes!" and raises her cup for another drink. As he's having his sip she puzzledly says, "Wait... eyes like the downfall of the mad god? That... doesn't make sense to me, please?"

Ravana laughs and reaches to lightly touch Mikal's hand with the tips of his fingers, "It was two different things, Ninshubur. Your eyes. And the downfall of the Architect. Though I am sure your eyes have been the downfall of many a worthier foe."

Mikal blinks, then shakes her head once with a grin, "Oh, all right, I understand!" She raises the cup and waits for him again, then cheerfully repeats his toast again, "To fierce warriors! With, uh, with agate eyes, and to the downfall of the mad god!" This time she actually takes a sip when he drinks -- she knows the level of her cup has to go down at least somewhat or he'll become suspicious. She nods once, licking her lips again -- hm, it is indeed a fine wine -- and adds, "Here, Raph, that was one you should drink to too." She holds the cup down for him as well, and he slurps up a big mouthful. She's pleased -- that will certainly make it look like she's drunk more than she has.

Ravana chuckles and takes another sip of his wine, shifting to recline on his side, propped up on one arm and looking across Raphael at Mikael, "And of the bargain I offered? A story for a kiss from you?"

Mikal keeps the cup moving by gesturing as she speaks, trying to remember how enthusiastic Jareth looks when storytelling, and then letting herself get more animated in an effort to emulate him, "Nonono, stories should be shared -- and come after the drinking!" She pauses, staring up almost owlishly at the rakshasa, "Um... at least that's how I was taught." She flashes a grin, then holds up the cup again, "To -- to the rakshasa -- may their numbers be unending!" She nods sagely, adding in an aside, "That's a good thing, right?"

Ravana's eyes are glinting with amusment and he says, "Even I would hesitate to drink to that, lovely one. We are a fierce and warlike people." The owlish blink gives him an inkling of hope that perhaps she is starting to let down his guard. And the enormous sceptre can drink quite a lot of the sweet wine.

Mikal nods thoughtfully, blinking, "Good point. Um... how's this then? May... may the numbers of rakshasa be ever correct for the deed at hand!" She giggles like a little girl, "Howzat?!" then covers her mouth and looks embarrassed, "Oops."

Mikal ahems, straightening up and holding her cup up for the toast, a bit flushed with embarrassment, "Er, right. Better?"

Ravana laughs and nods, raising his cup and taking a deep drink, "That I will drink to." He motions for Mikal to stretch out as well, "Make yourself comfortable. This place is for you to rest and recover."

Mikal beams and raises her cup too, and when she lowers it she brushes the back of one hand across her mouth, still looking a bit shyly embarrassed. She hesitates, looking around, then reaches to tug gently on Raphael's heavy mane. He shifts over with an amused glance at her, and she carefully leans against his chest, between his forepaws. As tiny as she is, she fits easily, and she holds the cup up for him, murmuring relaxedly, "Drink up, big bro..." He has a few laps as well, as she looks up at Ravana and adds in faint surprise, "'Sa very warming wine! What's in it?"

Ravana watches Mikal as she curls up close with the raptor-wolf, "Dates and cloves. To sweeten it and cleanse the road from your bones." He reaches out with a fingertip to trace the hem of Mikal's high-slit dress.

Mikal calculates swiftly in her head: she's had one actual sip of wine so far, and several "lip-wetters." Raphael's drunk some as well... good, it is indeed lowering in her cup. Now, how's Ravana's cup doing? She glances with half-closed eyes at it as his focus is on her dress, checking to see if her stratagem is working.

Ravana seems to have taken an actual sip from his cup each time he's raised it.

Mikal looks down into her cup with that same owlish gaze... then sighs gustily, leaning her head back against Raphael. "Dates... I remember dates! Sweet and juicy in the heat of summer. Mmmm..." She blinks, sitting up abruptly -- then blinking again and catching herself with a hand. "To... to dates!" She giggles again, her eyes sparkling, "Can't have too many dates!"

Ravana laughs and raises his cup again, "To dates and sweet cloves." He takes a deep drink of his wine and sighs gustily. The powerful lord of the rakshasa is not feeling drunk, but he is beginning to feel the wine creating a warmth in his stomach.

Mikal raises her cup too, and when she lowers it she says thoughtfully, "Think it's your turn twice, y'know... think I went twice by accident..." She licks her lips again, looking down into the cup as Raphael laps up some as well, then grins and sets it aside. She carefully gets to her feet, using the long-suffering Raphael's head as a brace, and paces over to the wine jug. She's moving with the perfect smoothness of someone concentrating very hard on not stumbling, and she picks up the jug, turning towards her cup -- then she pauses, "Wait, being rude! Here." She carefully pours his cup full again.

Ravana is quite happy to drink with Mikal, exchanging toasts for two or three cups of wine. As they drink, the wine warms the rakshasa and loosens his tongue a little. It also seems to make his hands restless and he reaches to touch Mikal from tmie to time, nothing truly improper but quite personal; brushing the back of her hand or the hem of her dress, even carefully touching the center of her forehead as he mentions something to do with the third eye.

Mikal tends to get a bit physically shyer as she apparently gets tipsier, even to pushing his hand away once while blushing and giggling.

With Mikal leaning back against Raphael, the raptor-wolf can't act as a barrier between them and the girl's shyness intriques Ravana even further, wine-warmed voice murmuring, "Do you fear me, Ninshubur? I have already assured you I mean you no harm. You are far too special and lovely for that."

Mikal turns pink at that, looking away, and squeaks, "T-tell another story please? I l-like y-your stories...?"

Ravana chuckles again and leans toward Mikal, voice soft and deep in his chest, almost a furry voice, "I will happily tell another story, but for this one I will ask the kiss for which I bargained."

Mikal looks up at Ravana, watching him leaning towards her -- then she jumps and squeaks nervously as Raphael yawns lazily behind her. The raptor wolf looks a bit taken aback at her reaction, watching her in calm bemusement as she hastily puts her cup down and nearly scampers around to put Raphael between them both again, "I, no, you, it, wh-wha-" She blinks a bit blearily, then adds, "Whoa... I need to stop drinking!"

Mikal holds up a stern hand towards Ravana, "No more stories! You need to stop now." The effect is slightly ruined when she hiccups.

Ravana sits up and then yawns, the gesture showing off his lovely physique. And there is quite a lof physique to show off. He laughs gently and says, "Not willing to abide by the bargain, Ninshubur? It is but a kiss, and did not your Lady speak well of sharing kisses?"

Mikal frowns bemusedly, "What bargain?"

Ravana says, "The one I offered earlier. A kiss for a story. Or would you rather trade something else?""

Mikal gives Ravana a suspicious stare, "You're trying to confuse me into telling more stories, aren't you?"

Ravana chuckles and reaches out, not for Mikal this time but for Raphael, "No, sweet Rabbit. The pretty talker called you Rabbit, yes? I am trying to coax you into kissing me. Do I appall you?"

Mikal shakes her head firmly, "Nuh-uh. You're trying to get me drunk, aren't you." She folds her arms, standing with her feet well braced, "Bet you don't even have a story. Hmf."

Ravana laughs again, offering to scratch under Raphael's chin, "Drunk? No. Relaxed? Yes. You have trembled at my touch like a deer before a tiger, but I promise you I do not mean to devour you. I wish a kiss. From your lips, I am sure it would be sweet. And I have stories to last for years in the telling."

Mikal mutters, "Don't have that many kisses."

The lord of the rakshasa stands and moves to walk around Raphael, "Truly? I would think the vizier of Inanna would have a surplus of kisses. Does your lady not teach you that the act of love is sacred and glorious?"

Mikal stiffens at that, and her stormy eyes get distinctly cool. She straightens, staring with proud fearlessness up at the giant rakshasa -- she's only slightly over waist high on him -- as she says, "Indeed, it is: glorious and sacred." She points, "Sit, and I will tell you a story. Perhaps it will be enlightening for us both."

Ravana's eyes flash as he realizes that Mikal is not nearly so intoxicated as she wanted him to believe, "I look forward to hearing a story from you." He folds himself down to sitting again, a graceful half-lotus.

Mikal settles cross-legged next to Raphael, one small hand resting on his side. She seems a lot more self-possessed than previously, and she starts the story without preamble, "Once there was a woman, one of Inanna's, who traveled on pilgrimage with her beloved family and her dear bondmate. She came upon an old battlefield, and because her beloved Lady is the Queen of War as well as Love, she paused and performed puja, or sacred ritual, there for the fallen. Many were the spirits she helped that day, and she and her family even faced down one of the still-living enemy, who arrived to see who dared perform puja not of their cold and rigid lord.

"But it was important to the woman that the spirits receive their needed guidance, for her Lady is the Queen of Heaven as well as Earth, and the Lady's sister is cold Ereshkigal, she who learned kindness when offered compassion freely and without strings attached. And this is why the woman risked herself, though it was for no material gain: because she learned from her Lady that when you give of yourself, you either do not give at all... or you give your all."

Mikal's eyes flash too, although her small face is smooth and expressionless as she continues, "And eventually the little family arrived in the location they sought in their pilgrimage, but alas! They discovered their holy quest was not yet concluded -- there was further to wander in their quest. But they did not know where they were supposed to go, and so the woman sought assistance from the holy men who lived there. They were not devotees of Inanna, but that was all right, because surely, she thought, we are united in our appreciation of the sacred, yes?

Ravana listens to the story attentively, his smile spreading. He appreciated Mikal when she was bashful and ethereal, but this streak of fierceness speaks straight to his own warrior-soul. It is not too difficult for the deceptively scholarly lord of the rakshasa to put together the truth behind the story, but he is not cowed.

Mikal says, "This being her belief, the woman was quite shocked when she was propositioned by one of the holy men! It was not the proposition which shocked her, so much as the implication..." she takes a breath, and her eyes narrow as she continues, voice steely, "the implication... that she should be paid for it! And the woman said to the holy man, "Who are you?! What do you do? You would take the sacred and commercialize it?!""

Mikal says, "And his anger and shame was great, and he drew his sword and threatened her, and she said again, "What can you threaten me with, except death? Should I fear that? I am Inanna's! She is the Queen of Heaven and Earth, She gives all of herself to her dear husband and her beloved people. I gave freely of myself to save your people fallen on the battlefield! Is this your thanks? Had you come to me honestly it would have been different. When I give of myself, I give all of myself, to my beloved and to my pack -- just as does my Lady!" she takes a deep breath, nearly snarling, "-and I am not for sale!""

Raphael is starting to look a bit worried as the story continues, and he quietly gets to his feet behind Mikal.

Ravana bows his head, hiding the twinkling of his eyes. This is indeed a formidable woman. His voice holds nothing but sincerity as he says, "What a blind man he must have been not to see that his playfulness would be unwelcome." He raises his head slightly, eyes rolling up to look at Mikal, "And he would never take someone as amazing as Ninshubur as for sale."

Mikal stares coldly at the rakshasa for a long moment; behind her Raphael heaves a very heartfelt sigh, relaxing slightly. Mikal finally murmurs coolly and rather flatly, "Would he now."

Mikal folds her arms, adding just as flatly, "How nice. I shall be able to change the end of the story then. Somehow I doubt the holy man is willing to give anything away for free though... so I think I will leave that open-ended. And on that note, I should depart." She turns, adding quietly, "Come, Wolf. I do not think we should stay, at least while the rest of the pack is absent. Iron Antlers can guard for the horses while we are gone."

Ravana sits up straight again, lips just barely curved, "And the formidable daughter of Inanna would better leave dissembling to the silver-tongued. Please, stay. I will tell you of the Holy Places. What I know of them."

He continues, "And if you find me pleasing, perhaps you will gift me with a kiss. But I will charge you nothing for the knowledge of the old places."

Mikal stops, glancing over her shoulder and snapping a bit heatedly, "I never claimed to be silver-tongued. I claimed to be unswervingly loyal, and sufficient to the task at hand. So far, it has always been truth!" She considers Ravana for a moment, then adds firmly, "The rakshasa lord should not speak of the holy places, if he has any expectations of payment."

Ravana's smile broadens, "No, I expect no payment. Thinking on it, giving this knowledge to one that would face down angels though they could tear her limb from limb strikes me as a lovely way to keep my promise to Lord Krishna."

Mikal turns slowly, considering... then finally says with dignity, "She couldn't have torn me limb from limb." Coming from someone so small that she's at Ravana's eye level when he's seated, there's a certain... ease to believing her wrong.

Ravana is still smiling as Mikal turns back to him. "I would not wish to see you proved wrong."

Mikal says matter-of-factly, "She couldn't; I was in a circle of salt. She would have had to have speared me," as she settles down cross-legged in front of Ravana. Raphael settles cautiously down next to her, still keeping a wary eye on the two entities.

Ravana laughs and nods, "Indeed. Very literally, she could not."

Mikal nods calmly, one hand resting on Raphael again as she murmurs, "Indeed. So, you have a story to tell me?"

Ravana's shift to look out over the plateau again and he says, "On the opposite slope of his mountain, like the obverse of a rare coin, sits Ankor Wat. It is a place sacred to the Buddha and to Lord Krishna."

Mikal nods thoughtfully, her gaze following the rakshasa's. "What do you know of reaching it, so we will know we have arrived? And how has it avoided destruction in the battle between your people and the angels?"

His words slide again into the sing-song tone that says he is used to speaking in a much more musical language. "The temple there is ancient and it is said that it houses not only the visages of the gods, but also a weapon that could be used against the nightmarish Aqal that would turn the Dreamtime into nightmares of endless nothing." His eyes flicker back to Mikal and there is some passion there that was not before, "And scrolls. Knowledge hidden by Lord Krishna himself on fighting the mad god and his cohorts. Knowledge meant for the right mortals."

Mikal tilts her head curiously, "Only for mortals? Isn't that... well, a bit insulting to all the faithful sceptres?" She looks suddenly a bit worried, "Er... are they written in your native tongue, Ravana Lord?"

To Mikal's question, Ravana says, "They have stayed safe so long because I have been the only one alive with knowledge of the vajra and the scrolls, sweet Ninshubur. We are faithful and long-lived, we rakshasa. The devas perhaps even moreso, but there are things that only the mortals, with your gifts and foibles can accomplish. And many of those scrolls would be in my native tongue. Or at least one of them."

Mikal brightens hopefully, "Would you be willing to help translate them?" She adds wryly, "I suspect that would be faster than trying to learn the tongue ourselves, yes?"

Ravana smiles warmly, "I would be honored to, Ninshubur. It would not only be a help to you and a furtherance of my vow, but it would feed one of my own ravenous loves. Knowledge."

Mikal blinks, her expression abruptly shifting from the careful coolness she'd been holding, to a slightly startled, almost pleased look, "You love kno... ooh, really?!" She thinks a moment, then adds a touch shyly, "You, um... you're a warrior too, right? A really noteworthy one?"

Ravana can't help puffing up a little at that, "Indeed I am. But it has been said that I possess as much knowledge as ten powerful scholars." He is obviously not shy about extolling his own virtues.

Mikal thinks carefully for several minutes, absently stroking Raphael's back as she does so. Finally she says slowly, "I... I know one of my packmates loves learning new stories, and one is looking for -- for master smiths, and will need to learn how to use the fallen rakshasa's mace gifted to him." She looks up and grins a bit ruefully, "And then there's me." She sighs quietly, "I have to figure out this bow -- how did you recognize it, by the way? -so I can be a better archer and slay more spider-wasps..." she shivers, adding in a small voice, "and -- and n-n-not b-be afraid of, of the d-dark wh-where they live..." Her fist has clenched in Raphael's mane as she forces that out, and she's turned her face so it's hidden. Raphael looks up worriedly at her, gently licking her face.

Ravana strokes this chin thoughtfully, going over logistics in his head, musing over possibilities. "The sister of the warrior whose mace your friend carries knows much of the weapon. She may be willing to teach him of its use, though she is still grieving. And I would know the bow though it were in pieces before me or my eyes were closed. Even if one changes one's face, an old friend may still know one."

Mikal looks a bit startledly back up at Ravana, her curling hair whirling out like a silky banner for a moment. She's distracted enough that she can make herself forget her fear, and she says, "This -- it's yours?! Oh dear -- was it stolen from you or something?" She blinks, adding confusedly, "Wait... I thought only a mortal could use it?"

Ravana laughs and shakes his head, "It is not now mine. Nor has it ever been. But do you know what it can do? What it is called when it draws down its ultimate power?"

Mikal brightens, "Oh, yes! That's the Arrow of Krishna." She hesitates, then hopefully adds, "Do you know more of what it can do? I only recently received it." A bit shamefacedly she adds, "I -- I don't even know its proper name yet." She looks away from the rakshasa lord, embarrassed -- then distracts herself by pulling the bow and laying it between the two of them. She strokes the small, curving wooden recurved bow, murmuring, "You can look like your normal self now, if you'd like, bow?"

Ravana shakes his head, "I do not believe it has a name, Ninshubur. But I have known this weapon and seen its power for time past most mortal imagining."

Mikal blinks a bit startledly as the bow informs her it can look however she'd like it to. It appeared as a metal longbow previously simply because that's what its last owner requested. Mikal's voice is a bit faint, "Er... okay..." She looks up at Ravana when he speaks, hastily adding, "Uh, that was to the b-bow... I, um, hope that didn't just sound incredibly stupid. You do know it can speak, right?"

Ravana chuckles indulgently, "Yes, I did."

Mikal looks relieved, "Oh, good." She strokes the bow lightly again -- the smoothly grained wood just appeals to her! -and adds shyly, "C-can you tell me more of what it can do?" Curiously she adds to the bow, "Would you like a name, bow?"

Ravana pours himself another cup of wine, chuckling again, "It can tell you more of itself than I could. I was not its maker."

Mikal tilts her head curiously at the rakshasa, "What do you know of it, then?"

Ravana nods and begins talking, speaking of the bow's ability to change shape, it's ability to create arrows that will have different effects and, of course, the Arrow of Krishna. He seems to like having the knowledge as much as he enjoys the power of the weapon itself.

It seems the lord of the rakshasa doesn't know any more than the bow has already told Mikal itself.

Mikal nods, listening in silent, delightedly absorbed fascination. To the perceptive it's clear: she's far more easily seduced by the sharing of knowledge than by the sharing of wine. She nods happily at the parts she knows, and finally thoughtfully murmurs, "All right. So if I understand the implications of your words correctly, part of the reason the Architect is mad... is because of the mortals, yes? So what's more important? Slaying spider-wasps? Or figuring out how to stop the Architect?"

Ravana laughs and shrugs fluidly, "I think that they are both important. It may be best to simply work on which ever falls across your path at the moment. And I believe you may be right about the mad god. The gods of my people changed and grew with their people's thoughts. The Architect grew from the rigid minds of a rigid people."

Mikal blinks at a sudden, horrible thought; her voice is faint as she says slowly, "Wait. If the minds of the mortals so affect the Architect... are you saying the mortals created that monster?!"

Mikal adds even more slowly, "That... that they wanted a monster as a deity?!"

Ravana shrugs again and says, "I think that they were in an inhospitable place and that rigidity was the only way to survive. But rigidity is lack of movement. Minds, like water, can become stagnant."

The sceptre goes on, "The gods existed before mortals, however. And mortals could not have turned the Architect into a monster if the potential was not already there."

Mikal looks somewhat relieved, but still adds thoughtfully, "So... so the Architect slew most of the other gods... and he's somehow grabbing their worshippers' belief too? But -- but how is that not changing him? Or -- or can he not, um... not absorb, or whatever, the worship of deities too diametrically opposed to what he personifies?" Curiously, softly she adds, "But then... where is all that worshipful belief going?! Who's it helping?"

Ravana looks... pained?... sad?... as he says, "There, even my studying has shed no light. I do not believe that worship given to Lord Krishna would go to one such as the mad god, but I do know it cannot be going to Krishna."

Mikal nods in relief; her voice is heartfelt as she says softly, "Thank you. I would be horrified to realize puja performed for your deity or mine were to aid the Architect." She's silent a bit, thinking, then grins shyly up at Ravana from under her bangs, "So... so when will the mortals be strong enough to turn back the angels? What does that require? And do your people truly call tigers their siblings? Can you change shape to look like them?"

Ravana nods solemnly as well, "I would be furious were that to be true. Alas, lovely one, I am wise and a scholar, but I do not have the gift of future-sight. I cannot say when the mortals will be able to overcome the mad god."

Mikal nods a bit wistfully, waiting for the answers to her other questions. Her gaze falls on her cup as Raphael has a few more laps from it, and she grins at him, picking it up and holding it for him. Once he's done she has a sip herself, cuddling up relaxedly against the big raptor-wolf's side as she watches the big rakshasa.

Ravana's posture relaxes again and he settles to recline on his side, "The powerful amongst us can slip their skins and wear that over another form. Jatasura was the most skilled, but many of our older warriors can do it. The youngsters can only become as our brothers the tigers. With more power and more knowledge comes more control and more breadth of ability."

With a wicked grin, Ravana moves to give himself room, "Let me demonstrate..." As he speaks, the enormous dusky-skinned lord of the rakshasa stretches and his body begins to change, torso lengthening, legs shortening. The mane of coal-black hair withraws into a ruff and shades to russet-orange with black stripes around a large square head with round ears. The enormous tiger's belly is creamy-colored and the fur looks quite long enough for Mikal to plunge her hands in up past the wrists. Ravana's tail is long and elegant and his enormous slit-pupiled eyes are a rich yellow. In a human shape, he was enormous. As a tiger, he seems almost monstrous.

Mikal looks perplexed, "Wait... so-" Her voice cuts off and her eyes widen dramatically in shock at the change. She reflexively grabs the bow before her and scrambles hastily to her feet, staring warily. Raphael raises an eyebrow, sniffing a few times -- yep, that's about what he expected -- then puts his chin relaxedly back on his forepaws.

Mikal starts to reach out her free hand, a wondering look on her face -- then she goes still, saying uncertainly, "You -- you're still sapient, yes?"

Ravana's mouth keeps him from talking but he carefully nods the enormous head to the girl and carefully lowers himself to his stomach, making himself as small as possible. Which is to say only very large instead of alarmingly large.

Mikal is still staring in awe as she circles cautiously, trying to see as much as she can without getting any closer. Finally, hesitantly, she whispers, "C-can I -- is it all right t-to touch you?"

Somehow, those alien, feline eyes sparkle and Ravana chuffs loudly as he nods, watching Mikal circle him with that look of awe and perhaps a little fear.

Mikal carefully tucks her bow away, then cautiously approaches with her hand out, angling slowly in along his left flank. She doesn't consciously realize it, but that's the path an amorously inclined tiger takes as well, to demonstrate they're not hostile. She's even unwittingly got the very careful, ready-to-flee-if-necessary gait down!

Ravana's eyes slide partially shut and he makes a sound that might have been low and pleasant from a smaller creature. His tail switches from side to side and the tiger-shaped rakshasa's haunches shift slightly. The touch is exceedingly pleasant and it stirs the rather lustful intentions he'd had earlier up. Still, he is in control enough to wait.

Mikal strokes hesitantly along the thick, slightly coarse, amazingly beautifully marked fur. She's slow and careful, checking often to see if the rakshasa seems at all unhappy -- but as he appears to enjoy it, she becomes more relaxed and more bold. Eventually she's running her hands happily through the fur, a delighted and still awed grin on her face, and she doesn't seem alarmed when she ends up between the huge tiger's forefeet, scritching busily along his chin, up through the thick ruff, and around the distinctively marked ears. By that point, of course, she's almost crooning happily to herself as well -- to her, this is fun!

The enormous tiger carefully wraps one enormous foreleg around Mikal as the girl scratches through the bearded fur of his chin, raising his blocky head up to let her get to that particularly itchy part. Even the enormous ears twitch relaxedly when she pets them. It's not too long before the tiger-shaped rakshasa slowly runs his raspy tongue along one of Mikal's arms with a satisfied chuff.

Mikal giggles at his rumbling noises, but she yelps! -and yanks her arm back at the lick, "Ow! Careful there -- you could take skin off with that tongue!" Her voice is rueful, and she gently pushes his head to one side so she can continue scritching. Her voice is happily excited as she adds, "Wow, you have the most beautiful pelt! I bet you and me and Wolf could hunt so well together!"

Ravana makes a sound that might have been a laugh and he pulls carefully away from Mikal so he can change back to his human form, "Tigers do not do well hunting with others Ninshubur. They are lone creatures by nature. Not like lions or wolves."

Mikal backs up quickly as he changes form, a slightly regretful look on her face. "Really? I remember reading they're solitary only when the territory requires it -- but when the countryside can support two or more, they really enjoy being social?"

Ravana chuckles again and stretches his long limbs, "It is rare that the countryside is enough. Male tigers are possessive of their range and it is quite large. They can enjoy being social better with a tigress. Their ranges often overlap."

Mikal nods understandingly, watching silently for a few heartbeats... then she sighs, smiling faintly at herself, and goes to sit by Raphael. "There's not much hunting here either, from what I've seen. Too domesticated."

Mikal strokes Raphael gently, murmuring quietly to him, "Wish I could be a great big scary powerful entity like you and him..." Raphael snorts amusedly, his thoughts clear to her, [You're not big. That's the only one you don't already have, little sister.] She blushes in pleasure, shyly hugging the big raptor-wolf about the neck.

Ravana laughs a deep and rolling laugh. It's the sort of laugh that would sound like thunder in a small space. Luckily, the pavillion is not so enclosed as to let it do that. "There is hunting, but you have to go into the dangerous places to do it."

Mikal raises an amused eyebrow, "Dangerous like the terrain between here and the Winter Palace? Everyone told me the Wyld was dangerous... but the only challenges I've met the entire time are hostile sapient entities." She shakes her head a bit wistfully, "I never thought I'd say it, but I -- I kind of miss real hunting, where your life is on the line too."

Ravana's eyes gleam and he leans toward Mikal, lowering his voice, "You wish to hunt in a way that will give you a true challenge? The big one with the mace will not mind?"

Mikal blinks startledly up at the rakshasa, "The b-big... Bear? Uhm, actually I think he'd mind very much if you hunted him, Ravana Lord!" She gives the big, shapechanging rakshasa a curious, thoughtful look, adding, "I'd think you don't have much to fear, yourself, as a hunter?"

Ravana was staring to raise his winecup again and hurriedly takes it away from his mouth to laugh at Mikal's misapprehension. "I would not hunt your mate, Ninshubur! I asked only if he if he would not mind you risking yourself on a hunt through the Wyld with rakshasa."

The girl's acknowledgement of his prowess as a hunter causes Ravana's chest to puff out slightly, but he says, "Not much, no. But there are things I would not wish to face alone. Or at all." His eyes flicker upward toward the sky as he says that.

Mikal blinks confusedly at Ravana, "Wait... who? Bear? Um, he's not my mate, rakshasa lord." She grins shyly, her gaze flicking in unwitting hopefulness towards the still-empty pavilion as she adds, "It's Cat I chose to give myself to."

Ravana's kohl-dark brows go up and he says carefully, "The pretty speaker?" The rakshasa mulls that over as he takes a sip of his wine, turning the possibilities this way and that in his inestimable mind.

Mikal adds with the complete relaxation of assurance and faith, "Cat wouldn't mind my hunting -- that's what I did in the village where we grew up, you know? My Da and I were some of the monster hunters." She adds with wistful, almost shy pride, "We were good at it, too. We took down khidra sometimes." She smiles, leaning to hug Raphael about the neck as she adds, "When Wolf here turned up, I didn't hunt alone so much... but he and I have brought down a khidra and her cub, together."

Ravana notices Mikal's tone of voice, the tone of someone speaking of an accomplishment that brings them great pride and he says, "Khidra? Tell me of these khidra."

Mikal sighs quietly, her gaze far away as she adds, "B-but that was... I guess it was all just illusion..." She looks down at her hands in her lap, blinking a few times, then takes a deep breath. Firmly she changes the subject, "He -- he might worry some, but he knows that's what I do, just like I know what he does."

Ravana reaches out and touches Mikal's hair very briefly, "What does he do? Other than tell stories and apparently beguile the vizier of Innana?"

Mikal blinks, her head coming up startledly as she's distracted by the touch, and the words come out without thought, "Uh, he loves women." She blinks again, then blushes at the compliment, glancing away and hastily adding, "K-khidra, they um... Wolf, help me here?" Raphael rolls his eyes back to glance at her, where his chin is resting on his paws, and murmurs, [Like tigers, little sister.] She gratefully grabs that information, "Oh, yes, of course!" Nodding, she turns back to Ravana, "They're like tigers! A little smaller and uglier and not sapient, but all claws and solitary and fangs and eating everything and sneaky and dangerous." She adds ruefully, "And strong! Dear Lady, they're hard to take down sometimes."

Ravana is left a bit speechless for a moment. He loves women? "Ahh, I, too, am a great lover of women. Perhaps he and I should speak together." The description of the khidra makes him chuckle slightly, "And yet, tigers are not monsters. Fierce and dangerous, but not monsters."

Mikal nods firmly, "That is quite true: you as a tiger felt somehow right, but khidra are just wrong." She adds with an unconcerned smile, not quite getting Ravana's meaning, "Oh, he loves stories. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you. Cat, that is." She grins shyly, adding, "Frankly, I'm surprised you wanted to talk to me instead of him in the first place. He's lots prettier than me, after all. And he talks better."

Ravana chuckles and shrugs again, taking a deep draught of his wine, "But he is not Ninshubur. He is not the vizier of Inanna." He leaves off the fact that he was not certain at first of Jareth's gender, "He is a pretty boy, but he does not carry the light of Inanna with him."

Mikal thinks about that for a moment, then tilts her head and smiles with quiet inner joy, "No. He carries a different light." She curiously asks, "So why did you think Bear was my mate? I mean, it was Cat whose hand I was holding, after all?"

Ravana smiles, "Because it would seem to me that someone as lovely as you are would have given herself to a powerful man, and your Bear is quite powerful."

Mikal looks perplexed, "But I have given myself to a powerful man. His power isn't in force of arms -- that's what I'm for, I think -- but rather in his ability to... to calm people and get them to be a little kinder to those around them." She smiles with an inner, unwitting sweetness as she adds, "He's certainly kind to me. I don't know exactly why he chose to love me, really." She blinks, then giggles as Ravana's words register, "I doubt I'm that lovely, compared to someone like your inestimable wife!" Mikal grins lazily as she guesses, "Or the rest of your doubtless large harem."

Ravana laughs and shakes his head, "I have no harem, Ninshubur. But you are a divinely intriguing woman. You do not seem a warrior from the outside, especially dressed as you are, but have the heart of a tiger."

Mikal smiles relaxedly, "Not a harem then, but a backtrail of satisfied ladies? You did say you too were a great lover of women, after all." She smiles again and shrugs slightly, "Some of us are shapeshifters on the outside, such as yourself... and some on the inside, I suppose."

If he had been Jareth, the rakshasa lord might have looked bashful or humble, but Ravana smiles broadly, "I have many more satisfied ladies than unsatisfied." He strokes his chin contemplatively, looking closely at Mikal as he thinks, "It is very possible, I suppose, that the soul can shift." He sounds like he's giving that serious thought.

Mikal grins and shrugs easily again, "I don't know, personally." She rises easily to her feet, adding, "So, this hidden city of Angkor Wat on the far side of your mountain... you must have a map or something, yes? Maybe even a battle map I could take a look at, so we do not stumble across your forces while they are engaged with the angels there?" A small part of her could currently care less where the city is -- what she most wants is to see the strategic layout of the current conflict! The warrior in her is quite intrigued at that thought.

Mikal deliberately does not specify which of the two subjects Ravana mentioned -- satisfied women or shifting souls -- is the one which she claims ignorance of.

Ravana chuckles and stands up, draining his cup and picking up the jug of wine. If he isn't going to be able to seduce the girl through guile, perhaps he can do it through facination. "By all means, Ninshubur, let us go look at the battle map." He pauses, "I must warn you that soldiers in a group can be uncouth when not in battle."

Mikal glances back over her shoulder at the rakshasa from where she walks ahead of him, one hand resting lightly on Raphael once more -- how the raptor-wolf always seems to be exactly where he needs to be in order to be absently caressed by her is a mystery. Mikal's voice is gentle, "Oh? Well, no worries; I'm sure they'll learn to respect you more eventually." She skips along happily towards the big tent where the generals had been gathered, looking forward to seeing a good battlemap again, and Raphael trots along easily next to her.

Ravana laughs to himself, shaking his head in amusement. Walking along behind the diminutive mortal is rather a pleasure, actually. He calls ahead to the tent where his generals are with the battle map, "Visitor coming in! Behave like warriors!"

Mikal flashes another grin over her shoulder up at the following rakshasa, then peers curiously into the tent, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the light change. As she murmurs a polite, "Hello," Raphael shoulders casually in -- his eyes handle light and darkness better than Mikal's.

The tent is spacious, as it must be to house a round dozen of the large rakshasa and the sand-table map. There are chairs and stools here and there and one large, well-upholstered chair that no one is sitting in. Ravana is beaming as he follows Mikal into the tent, announcing, "Our guest wished to see something our fortifications..." The table that takes up an enormous amount of room in the middle of the pavillion is so tall that the top of it comes to Mikal's nose. Even from that perspective, the girl can see that there's a carefully-created mountain in the center.

Mikal steps in and to the side so she doesn't block the doorway. She looks around curiously, initially most interested in how the other rakshasa generals are reacting to her presence. She doesn't want to cause a pecking-order battle by accident, or anything.

Several of the generals are giving Mikal rather hard looks and at least one of them looks disgusted and isn't looking in her direction at all. One or two of them are looking at her in frank curiousity. One, the only female in the room, steps forward and give Mikal a slightly bow.

Mikal frowns slightly as she notices how high the table is too, and visually checks for the closest unused stool. She brightens at the greeting from the female, and politely bows in return, "Greetings, General. Thank you for allowing me to see your battlemap."

Mikal grins up at Ravana, adding teasingly, "You're all too tall!" then heads for the stool. It doesn't occur to her at all to ask him to hold her up, of course.

The female general nods to Mikal and steps back out of the way, moving to the side of the table where she was placing some small silk flags around the base of the representation of Mount Meru. Ravana moves to take the stool from Mikal and place it at one side of the battle map, "This is the best vantage. You can see both sides of the mountain easily."

Mikal looks a bit startled as the stool is taken from her hands, but then she beams up at him delightedly, "Thank you!" She steps quickly up onto the stool, taking a moment to get a feel for it so she doesn't overbalance on the sand-table, carefully clasping her hands behind her. Her bright-eyed gaze flicks back and forth over the table in silent fascination, leaving it only when someone speaks, to regard them with interest.

The generals around the table don't change in their general demeanors, though the more openly disgusted looks don't get brought out when Ravana happens to be looking. The lord of the rakshasa stands beside Mikal, one hand moving to her back in a solicitous gesture to help her keep her balance as he starts pointing out the fortifications.

Mikal is entranced enough by the beautiful and intricate battlemap that she leans back and forth as she excitedly nearly drinks up the entire strategic map. Indeed, at least once she unwittingly shifts to take a firm hold on Ravana's wrist, so she can stretch out further and see more over the big map.

Ravana is smiling quietly to himself as he watches Mikal's glances around the table, but his expression is more carefully guarded - and occasionally a touch stern -- when one of the generals makes their irritation a bit more visible. He does not yet, however, openly berate any; their reactions appear to be muted enough for the time being. That, and the occasional stern glance is probably keeping most of the complaining to a mininum, plus the fact that Ravana has never brought one of his lovers -- potential, hopeful, actual, or otherwise -- to the battle tent before.

The grabbing of Ravana's wrist garners a couple of slightly sour looks from the less-friendly of the generals. Ravana, however, seems pleased by the girl voluntarily touching him. The female general is actually fairly loquacious, pointing out several of the small metal figures that represent bands of braves manning the fortifications.

Mikal listens carefully, nodding to herself once or twice, and doesn't interrupt the conversation between the generals.

Mikal smiles faintly as the growly looking generals take the longest to be drawn back into the tactical discussion, but she remains politely silent, still quite fascinatedly listening and watching.

Mikal knows enough about body language to pick up the lashing tails and occasional flattened ears, but she also knows she's standing next to the biggest, baddest tiger there, so for now she's not concerned. Even if the biggest, baddest tiger is in human form!

After some back and forth and questions and explanations of their plan-- make a very large and tempting target. One the angels cannot possible destroy and cannot possibly ignore-- Ravana asks Mikal in a warm and solicitous tone if she has any questions.

Mikal smiles up at Ravana -- even on a stool she's only about shoulder high on the massive rakshasa lord -- and says in a soft but clear voice, "Um... yes, actually. I was wondering: how do you keep the angels from simply flying overhead and dropping rocks on Mount Meru? I presume there's some way to cover the top here, but what about the rest of the mountain? After all, eventually you will all lose if you cannot -- because the angels have brought the battle to you. They seem to be picking spots to fight anywhere they please all over the mountain, in fact -- so not only does it look like they have the upper hand tactically, but strategically it would appear all they have to do is to bedevil your friendly mortals until your supplies fail." Curiously she adds, "I've not been able to figure out how you intend to defeat that yet?"

Mikal leans out over the battlemap again, pointing, "And there -- I notice that's an excellet spot for ambush. It might even be saltable... but you don't seem to have any forces committed to that spot, to draw the angels to you? While over there, it appears you have several groups planted -- and yet it seems tactically most ideal for the angels, not for yourselves. It appears to be completely flat and featureless -- wouldn't that help flyers rather than hinder them, like that forested spot I said you might be able to salt?"

Mikal leans relaxedly back against Ravana's arm, looking up with pleased inquiry at him. She's delighted to be here, and it hasn't occurred to her that what she's pointed out could possibly not be deliberate on the part of the rakshasa.

Ravana's brows have raised again and his eyes sweep over the battle map, lips pursing the very slightest bit as he examines the things that Mikal pointed out. And then he looks square at the one of the generals that seems to be the oldest and says, "Would you care to explain it to her?"

Mikal brightens and turns her gaze to that general. She looks interested and hopeful and prepared to learn.

There's not a shred of superciliousness or snotty demeanor to her. She's genuinely happy about this.

Mikal bounces lightly on her toes once or twice in excitement as she waits, holding onto Ravana's arm to keep her balance.

Ravana carefully shifts to make sure his arm is very solid for the excitedly bouncing girl. He's not letting her see the pleased look he's aiming in her direction.

The general -- one of the somewhat growly ones -- stiffens a little, but when he speaks it is in clipped, professional tones that manages to not show too much irritation or annoyance at instructing the mortal in martial matters. "That spot is too close to the main encampment to risk a phalanx of angels to enter. As for that other location, it is reinforced precisely because it is flat and featureless and we do not wish to invite the angels there. Lord Ravana, I and your other generals have much work to do, if you wish strategic instruction for your new interest, then might I suggest a captain of cadets? Or a nanny of some sort?"

Ravana's eyes go slightly flat and the voice he uses has a hint of the presence and authority that make him lord of the rakshasa, "I bring a hunter and possible ally in the fight against the lap dogs of the mad god. And you will respect her questions."

Mikal blinks a bit startledly at the general, then thinks a moment. Her gaze flicks to Ravana and she smiles, then turns back to the general. Her voice is thoughtful and quiet, "Thank you. May I ask about the other query as well? How will the rakshasa defend their mortals, so their supply lines are not broken?"

The raksasha bristles like a tiger would, and his answers are curt and precise and sharp and to-the-point and while respectful leave little doubt that the raksasha is trying his best to be, if not polite, then at least not outright rude. "We watch them, we protect them. We have a company of raksasha whose sole duty is to keep watch over those communities -- not only mortals but other aaethyrs -- who provide us with food and supplies. When they are threatened or harried by angels, we respond as quickly as possible."

Mikal nods slowly, listening... then says gently, "I understand; you see something different than I do." Her smile up at Ravana is apologetic, "I think I better leave, Ravana Lord. Thank you for letting me see the battlemap, though." She hops down off the stool and heads for the door, calling softly, "Wolf? Time to go, big brother."

Ravana nods to Mikal and waits behind for a few minutes with his generals.

Once Mikal has left, Ravana drops the charming veneer and the very alpha part of his personality is unleashed as he berates the general that offended Mikal. Several of the others, including the loquacious female literally slap him and repeat a similar sentiment: Mortals are what we're here for, you blithering idiot! After the brief interlude of intra-command discipline, Ravana exits the command tent to follow Mikal, his smooth and pleasant exterior once more in place.

Mikal has strolled over to the edge of the plateau and is sitting there next to Raphael, murmuring softly to him.

Ravana walks up quietly behind Mikal and speaks in his rumbling voice, "My apologies, Ninshubur, some of my generals are still living in the age where mortals were of little concern to them."

Mikal glances up and back at the big rakshasa -- and up, and up -- and smiles faintly, "It's all right. I shouldn't have gone in. You did warn me, after all, that your, um... control of your generals was, ahh... loose at best?"

Mikal turns back to look out over the plateau. If his hearing is very good, Ravana might hear her softly muttered, "But... my points were good..."

Ravana smirks, "My generals are well under control, Ninshubur. They do what they must when they're told and they hold close to their vow. But they have the attitude of soldiers. That they are separate from those they protect. It is unfortunate. And your points were good ones." He crouches with the easy grace of someone who is comfortable in his body.

Mikal blinks a bit startledly up and back at Ravana, wondering if he heard her somehow... then she flushes in embarrassment, "I... I'm sorry, I should have just said it to you if I meant it." She sighs, looking back out over the gorgeous view, and rests an elbow on Raphael's huge head in her lap, then puts her chin on her fist. "I just... well, I sort of hoped I could be of some use there, you know?" She sighs quietly again, her gaze distant.

Ravana's smile is wry and he tries to keep the displeased flatness out of his eyes as he says, "Your ideas will be brought back to the generals' attention. They will just be couched in different terms." That those terms will be in the form of a direct order from their commander is glossed over. Carefully, he reaches over and slides the backs of his fingers carefully along Mikal's bicep, "Please do not let it dishearten you."

Mikal smiles faintly at the big rakshasa once, then looks back out at the view. She wonders if she's just being vain... she'd so hoped to be considered useful by the rakshasa, and then maybe they'd have been more inclined to view Jareth's request favorably.

Mikal adds a bit wistfully, "Could we, um... I mean, if you're not busy or anything... would you be willing to take me hunting with you? Or -- or would that annoy your generals too?"

Ravana's grin widens into an obvious pleasure, "Hunting? Hunting we can do, fierce one! Do you need to find and speak with your mate first?" He's hoping not.

Mikal thinks about that, then says, "Is there a way to leave a note for my absent packmates?"

Ravana says, "For certain. But will they be able to read it?"

Mikal looks up in sudden interest at a thought, "Hey! How do you hunt, anyway? Do you go in tiger form, or in human?"

With complete candor, Ravana says, "It depends upon the quarry."

Mikal grins, "Oh, yes. We have a shared language."

Mikal nods thoughtfully at that, completely missing the innuendo... then she grins delightedly up at Ravana, "All right, then! If you have some writing utensils, and I have a moment to change clothes, then, um..." she blinks, then curiously adds, "What do you usually hunt?"

Ravana nods and smiles, standing with just as much fluid grace as he used to crouch, "They by all means, leave them a note. I will let my generals know that I will be absent from the camp. We cannot stay for more than an hour or two, however. And then I must return to join the planning."

Mikal says, "Oh!" she looks disappointed, "That's right -- I shouldn't take you away from that, especially if we're hoping you'll help Raven." She sighs very softly, then smiles up at the rakshasa, having to lean back to see his face from where she's seated, "Please don't let me cause you more trouble with your generals, either."

Ravana crouches again and reaches to touch Mikal's face with his fingertips, "Then after the planning? I will take you for a hunt that will give you the excitement that you seem to have missed, Ninshubur. It is a promise."

Mikal looks a bit surprised at the touch, but then can't help a touch of excitement -- her eyes light up at the prospect of a hunt! She bounces a bit in place, then pauses, getting a wary expression... then she says carefully, "Um... this isn't one of those hunts where someone else herds the animal to run past you, is it? I mean we're not, like, hunting, um... deer or anything, are we?"

Ravana looks downright offended at that, "What hunter worth his salt would find glory in that? We will track our own prey and we will bring them down on our own."

Mikal sighs happily, relaxing and beaming, "Okay! So what will we be hunting?"

Ravana says, "There may be deer, but they will not be herded for us. There may be fiercer prey. Whatever it is, we will hunt the way it was intended and not like pampered rajahs."

Mikal grins delightedly, "Fantastic!" She adds more seriously, "Thank you. It's always disconcerting to be judged by my size instead of my deeds. I appreciate your being willing to give me a chance to prove myself."

Ravana nods his head and says, "Of course, Ninshubur. And now, if you will not be offended, I will take my leave.

Mikal smiles shyly, "Of course not. I, um, look forward to your return, too."

Ravana's smile flashes bright and pleased as he takes Mikal's hand and kisses her fingertips, "I, too, look forward to it." With that, he rises and turns to stride back to the tent of the generals.

Mikal watches a bit wistfully... then sighs and looks back out over the plateau. To Raphael she murmurs quietly, "Still a bummer about the generals. Would have loved a good rousing tactical discussion with them!"

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Last modified: 2008-Oct-04 19:17:18

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