Goblin Town -- Logs

At the tree, Cinnamon is briefly blinded by something that reminds her of a laser pointer and then there's an explosion of feathers. Two large birds swoop down and flap around the tree-bound sniper's head. Cinnamon squeaks startledly -- then gasps again: the birds! They're showing her where the monster-shooty-thingie-person is! She calls out to the birds, "Move away, please!" then inhales. The birds have distracted the sniper enough that when they move away, Cinnamon has a clear shot at the attacker. A second later she exhales upwards as hard as she can, trying to hit the shooter with her fire. There's another scream and more thrashing as this one hits the ground. The screaming stops immediately.

Cinnamon sighs in relief, then looks around a bit tiredly. Plaintively she calls, "Are there more of you? It'd be really nice, dudes, if you'd quit shooting at me and just talk instead?!" She tries a little nervously not to look at the two burning guys. She has to keep repeating to herself: they tried to kill her! Also: she did bring three more shirts, so she shouldn't worry about that -- and clothes aren't important right now! She wonders a bit belatedly: where's Shane? Surely he'd have followed? Or... she gasps in worry -- did he follow, but he got shot?! She stares a bit wildly around herself, trying to spot anything suspicious.

Just as Erin is swooping with the other magpie toward someone else that's low and out of sight, someone comes in from behind them. There's a thud and a grunt and then stillness. Through Erin's eyes, Thorn sees the person that took down the third attacker stand up -- it's a female elf he hasn't met. He lets out a breath. "That's the third, but we shouldn't assume that was all of them. Plus, they got into the trod somehow."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at the woman, "Er, h-helloo?" The woman that stands up is a little blood-smeared and she's using a spear. That's what was so effective at pinning the third to the ground. Behind her, Shane appears out of the trees. He too has been somewhat splattered. The woman says, "You are the dragon." Shane nods, "She is..." He looks past her and says, "We need to put out the fires before they spread..." That bright grin of his flashes and he says, "You kicked ass, Cinnamon."

Cinnamon blinks woozily at Shane, "I -- I did? Oh... uh, g-good, good..." She swallows hard as reality starts crashing in on her and smiles weakly, "I, uh, I... think I better siddown..." She almost collapses onto the ground, putting her face into her hands. The sensory overload is starting to get to her: the smell of blood and burning burlap and bodies, the thin screaming, the blood splattered around... for a moment she feels like she greys out a little! Shane whoopses! and swoops in, catching her before she actually hits the ground, helping her land more gently. He doesn't try to stop her covering her face. Instead, he wraps his arms around her. The woman with Shane looks at the second person Cinnamon attacked, tips her head, and then puts her spear through his chest.

Cinnamon sighs and leans tiredly against Shane once she stops shaking, a few moments later. Her voice is a bit thready as she plaintively mumbles, "I'm n-not really a f-fighter, you kn-now?" She breathes deeply, glad the dizziness is starting to pass.

Shane smiles reassuringly at Cinnamon, "No, you're not. But you get shit done. C'mon, hon. Let's get you some water." He starts leading her back toward the glade, "I think they're all down or gone."

Cinnamon sighs tiredly, struggling back to her feet and unwittingly leaning on Shane somewhat as she follows his lead. Her voice is almost absent, as if her thoughts are running along without her, "I'm an accountant, you know? A good one -- really! But... b-but they didn't -- th-they w-wouldn't..." She gulps, trying to swallow the tears that want to burst out of her, "I t-tried to talk to them, Shane! I did -- really!"

Thorn knows there's a dearth of fire extinguishers in the trod, so once all the triage has been done, and if there's nobody else who needs medical attention, he goes to put out the ghillie suits and apply first aid to the intruders -- presumably with some of the trod's warriors backing him up. Odalric and two other young men that Thorn has seen but not met join him in going out to check on the attackers. There are buckets and there's the spring in the glade to gather water. The first one Cinnamon flamed has mostly put himself out, but there's smouldering foliage around them.

Thorn's eyes narrow, and he comments, "Oh, good, you're not completely out of commission." He works with the warriors to disarm the operator, and also to rifle his pockets for wallets, dogtags, or any other identifying marks. There's... a lot to take off him. Besides the rifle and the Big Damn Knife, there's an asp, not one but two pistols, another smaller knife, and there's what appears to be a garotte wrapped around one wrist. There are no wallets and no dogtags. There are, however, some tattoos.

Thorn grimaces. "Either a serious operator or a serious wannabe," he mutters. "That's an awful lot of hardware for just a hit. So which are you, friend?" He doesn't really expect an answer from the guy. He tries to identify the tattoos, but only after the warriors have secured him. Some militia-types and mercenaries -- and a handful of operators who haven't yet learned about the necessity for anonymity during operations -- have distinctive ink. The tattoos -- the ones that can be seen -- are quite elaborate. They even cover the back of the operator's hands. The ones on his hands are very distinctive. They're very serpentine.

Cinnamon nervously clutches Shane's arm as they re-enter the little glen, hoping she doesn't get yelled at for starting fires in the elves' forest. Her priorities are a little messed up currently still! Shane actually encourages the leaning, especially since he suspects Cinnamon is more than a little bit in shock. "I know you tried. They weren't reasonable. What's more, they're cowards." They're met at the edge of the glade by Athala and another young woman. Athala asks, "Is she injured?"

Cinnamon looks worried, "Who?! Oh my god, did I miss someone?!" She glances around wildly again, trying to figure out where to block attack from.

Shane shakes his head, "You didn't miss anyone. She's asking about you." He turns to Athala, "A blanket, I think. And some water. She's not a violent person and a lot has happened..." Athala nods and helps Shane lead her to a steady seat.

Cinnamon says, "Oh." She sounds a little blank for a moment... then sort of sags, "Oh... good, good... oh, thank you... siddown's good..."

Someone steps up and helps Shane get Cinnamon seated and then a large mug of water is pushed into her hands. Athala says, "Drink. Do not gulp." Cinnamon blinks up at Athala as she accepts the mug... then nods obediently as she looks down at it. Pushing her glasses into place, she has a sip. There's a blanket wrapped around Cinnamon and then Shane sits down and puts an arm around her shoulders. Cinnamon swallows the cold, clean taste of water, and sighs deeply. She glances around slowly at the recumbent injured being tended to, then gives Shane a worried look, "You, um... i-is everyone... a-are they... gonna make it?" She adds softly, "I... I'm sorry I w-wasn't faster, Shane."

Shane looks confused, "Why are you apologizing?" He's rubbing up and down her arm as he looks around the glen.

Cinnamon says, "Uhh..." she waves a hand vaguely at the others in the glen, "b-because... there's so many folks who g-got hurt?"

Shane is gentle, but his voice is softly teasing, obviously affectionate, "Because you're precognitive too? Cinnamon, if you hadn't been here I'd be dead. That bullet would have gone straight into my chest. You've saved a lot of people."

Cinnamon blinks a bit blearily at Shane, "I did? R-really?" She blinks again, staring at the wounded -- then abruptly turns and leans into Shane's chest as she whispers, "I felt so scared -- and s-so... so stupid, Shane! I-is that what b-being a fighter's like all the time? 'Cause if it is?" She gulps, the tears finally starting to overflow, "I d-dunno i-if I wanna be a fighter, ok-kay? P-please?"

Shane strokes her back and rocks a little as Cinnamon goes through the shock of having killed someone. "Shh... shh... it's OK. You don't have to be a fighter. That's what I'm for. And Josie. And others. You just be you, yeah?" Cinnamon cries great, wracking sobs for a while, shaking and clinging to Shane's shirt -- this has been a very traumatic day for her so far! Shane keeps holding onto Cinnamon and petting her, keeping a half an eye out for Thorn's return. He'll talk with the others about the total of who was out there.

Out in the forest, Jaeger has made his way out to join Thorn and the others with the sniper. Thorn doesn't recognize the tattoos as being emblematic of any unit he can recall. But serpents... would Killa be that stupid -- to attempt an outright hit? No; first off, if he was that stupid, Killa would not be stupid enough to send guys who didn't know they couldn't hurt Cinnamon. Then again... the group was very quiet about this trip, and it's possible that nobody back in Coblyn Street knew they would happen to be here. But then again, would Killa be stupid enough to send people with ink so obviously tying them to him? Thorn wonders who's going to get thrown under the bus for this particular affront -- Marcus would be incredibly foolish to ignore this if it so much as sniffs of Killa.

Jaeger prods at the operator, "Can you heal this one? I would like him to be able to speak and that will be hard with this damage?"

Thorn nods, "I think I can, yes." He checks to make sure the warriors have a good hold on the operator, does a quick check for any suicide capsules in the mouth, then casts a minor healing magic on him.

Jaeger frowns as the healing doesn't work. He shakes his head, "Let's get him into the glade. First aid at least. From reports, he may be the only survivor." Thorn blinks. What reports? He doesn't bother asking, though, and instead puts the operator on a blanket so they can carry him to the glade.

Back in the glen, Cinnamon finally sniffles, fumbling in her backpack for a kleenex and mumbling embarrassed apologies for getting Shane's shirt soggy. Shane looks down at the shirt, "Cinnamon. It's salt water. It washes out. It could have been a great deal of blood. Shhh." He's still got an arm around her. Jaeger is limping a little more noticeably as he returns with Thorn, the warriors, and the sniper. Other forms are being brought in, covered in blankets or carried on travois. There are a lot of grim faces.

Cinnamon takes a few moments to try to pull herself together again: she wipes her eyes and cleans her smeared glasses, then blows her nose, then has another big drink of water. After that she sighs gustily, murmuring to Shane, "So... is there anything we can do to help?"

The woman that was with Athala, puts a hand on Cinnamon's mug and pushes down after the nervous little dragon gulps. Her voice has a quite thick Teutonic accent, "Do not gulp. Sip. Gulping can cause problems when you are upset. What you can do for now is take care of yourself while we look to see what we have of wounded or dead, yes?"

Cinnamon blinks startledly at the woman, reflexively leaning back a bit... but then she sighs and nods once. Once the woman has moved away a bit, though, Cinnamon leans to whisper to Shane, "Is there really nothing at all helpful that we can do?"

Shane lowers his head to murmur, "You know you're allowed to catch your breath after what you did, right? You're acting like you just sort of wandered around and came back..."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Shane, "But, uh... but... that is what I did, mostly?" She sighs, staring morosely into her mug as she adds, "I... don't think I'm a very good fighter, Shane. I didn't feel dashing or decisive or... or effective or anything! Mostly I just felt confused and scared!"

The half-sidhe murmurs, "Because you're not a fighter. And you need to rest from doing something you neither enjoyed nor wanted to do. Give them a moment to take stock, and drink your water. You'll surely help again soon."

Cinnamon looks hopefully up at Shane, "Really? OK. I... well, um, I'd like to help with something I'm good at rather than... sort of... well, stumbling around, you know?"

Thorn moves from wounded to wounded, doing triage as needed. There are a few dead -- it hurts him more than he imagined it would. The people here, in this trod... he knew some of them, he had been... well, a pet, yes, but he knew them as well as a human could to some extent, and it's heartbreaking to see what happened here, to see so many of those he knew hurt, and not just from the weapons of the intruders. The loss of so many, and the injuring of many more... it will take a very long time for the scars to heal.

There are, thankfully, only a handful of dead amongst the members of the trod. Two of the elves and three or four of the other races. They are all carefully covered with sheets or shrouds when it's certain there is no reviving them. The wounds are across the board from slashing to stabbing to the expected bullet wounds. There is at least one throat that looks like it met a garrotte. There are another handful, including the sniper, that are badly damaged and a couple of dozen that are hurt but not to the point of being near death. Those of the trod that are healthy and uninjured are starting to move close to the glade. There is weeping and there is anger.

Thorn makes sure the sniper is alive, so they can be properly interrogated later. But he spends most of his time tending to the members of the trod. As the initial cycle of triage ends, he feels the usual weariness settle down around him, a feeling he'd never felt in the trod before. It's.... dispiriting.

Shane gives Cinnamon another squeeze, "Finish your water -- sip it! -- and then we'll move to help." He motions around the glade and points out another couple of obvious warriors doing just what Cinnamon is, "Just like they are."

Cinnamon's eyes get wider and wider as she watches and leans against Shane (a little fearfully, to be honest), and slowly sips her water when she remembers to. She's never seen a dead person before -- heck, she's never been around much violence at all, let alone blood! At some point it becomes a bit much for her, and she squeezes her eyes closed tightly, her hands shaking where they're wrapped around the mug. Her soft whisper is barely a thread of sound as she repeats over and over to herself, "I am okay. I am fine. I'm not going to -- to get upset! Not gonna barf... everything's fine... I am fine...!"

Shane takes Cinnamon's mug gently from her and shifts, encouraging her to put her head against his chest -- even to hide her face if she needs to! His voice is quiet, "No. Everything's not fine. But that's OK. Violence should not be fine. It should not be OK. This kind of cowardice is not OK and you don't have to be OK." He's petting her head quietly. "And if you need to barf or just to cry, you do it! Don't expect yourself to bounce right back!"

Cinnamon sighs and leans into Shane, keeping her eyes closed as she murmurs softly and a little plaintively, "What's the cowardice, please? Was, uhh... that wasn't me, was it?" She abruptly remembers Jaeger's earlier comment regarding a lack of glory in modern combat, "Oh, poor Mr. Jaeger! This is just more of that no-glory kind of fighting, isn't it?"

Shane keeps rubbing a hand up and down Cinnamon's back and there's a quiet smile in his voice, "No. You were very brave." He sighs, "Those assholes that attacked are cowards. And, yes, this is likely to be painful for Jaeger."

When Thorn is done, he feels a light touch on his shoulder and hears Athala's voice, "I am sorry, my sweet. This... this should not have been possible..." Jaeger's voice is quiet, but the anger in it is unmistakable, "Someone simply wandering into the trod sometimes happens..." Athala says quietly, "If by sometimes you mean once every several centuries..." Jaeger nods, "And never by a hostile. It is the ones that need the trod. Not this... not an attack! Only someone that has been here could have told them where the entrance is!"

Thorn places his hand on Athala's, not yet trusting his voice. Finally he says softly, "The sniper... he looks like a mercenary. His... tattoos are serpentine. I don't think that should directly implicate Killa, but we need him alive to learn more."

Athala starts to stroke Thorn's hair and shakes her head even though he can't see it. Her lips are pressed together, "We shall have a look. If he would be so stupid. So... malicious..." Jaeger's voice joins hers, "Then there may be reason to remove him from the council. This is unconscionable!" After that, there's some muttering that's not in English. Of course, German shares a little with English so words like 'verdammnt' and 'Hurensohn' are fairly easy to pick out as curses.

Cinnamon nods slowly, obscurely comforted by being almost wrapped up in Shane -- not having had a great deal of touch in her life, she's only now discovering how wonderful it can be! Hesitantly she murmurs, "Uhmmm... Shane? I, uh, sort of had an idea about healing Mr. Jaeger that... well, I wanted to talk to Thorn about it? But... is now not a good time, I'm guessing?"

Shane looks over to where Thorn is looking so sad and tired, and watches Athala trying to soothe him. He may be her pet, but the look on her face says he's not a simple plaything. Shane also takes in the anger on Jaeger's face and says softly, "Give them just a bit. Dealing with injured is hard." Cinnamon nods silently -- she's good with (unwittingly) cuddling for a bit!

Thorn gives a soft sigh. "I'd find it hard to believe he would do this, so soon after the attempt on Cinnamon's life. He's not that foolish -- is he?" He frowns. "I don't want to think of a false-flag operation...." He shakes his head. "No, we have to keep the sniper alive for the time being, at least."

Athala continues to stroke Thorn's hair softly, "It will be looked into." Her voice is the hardest Thorn has ever heard it, "I hope very much that it's not him." Jaeger is trying to go to one knee to look at the sniper, only to have another of the trod members speak quietly to him. The sniper -- blanket and all -- is lifted up onto one of the benches so his tattoos and whatever else on him can be examined. Jaeger lifts one of the hands to examine the tattoos on the back of it, "The tattoo is not new. It is quite faded... but it does not look like the temple iconography I have seen..." 'Iconography' has a strange sound with his accent.

Cinnamon glances up upon hearing her name, watching silently -- and a bit uncomprehendingly, to be honest. She whispers puzzledly to Shane, "Are they not going to heal that guy, so he can be questioned?"

Thorn nods, his brow furrowing at Jaeger's observation. Then he shakes his head. "Is everyone who was wounded been triaged?" he asks -- more to himself. "We should try to heal up the sniper, then get him into a state where he can be questioned...."

Cinnamon blushes hotly at that, hoping Thorn didn't hear her and think she was being critical! She genuinely isn't sure what's supposed to happen right now, after all. This is absolutely and utterly unique in her experience. Shane smiles and very gallantly doesn't mention the blushing, "They are. But they wanted to make sure all the trod members were stable. Taking care of their own first. It is what is good and right to do." Cinnamon nods vigorously -- that makes good sense to her!

Athala nods and says, "Everyone that needs help is being helped. All the trod that was injured." She strokes his hair again and says, "See if you can get him healed enough to be... questioned." She watches Thorn closely, hand still on him. She feels the way he's trying so hard and there's a small rush through his body as what was a small success becomes a larger one. She has loaned him magic to start with and she gives him a little more to help. The sniper groans and starts to try to sit up. He's by no means healed, but he is not going to die anytime soon.

When Shane sees that the healing is working, he asks Cinnamon quietly, "They've got him awake. Do you want to go talk to him?"

Cinnamon gasps, sitting up abruptly, "Oh! He- oh, yes! Could I? I'd really like to know why they did all this!"

Shane nods and takes the mug from the tired dragon, "Come on. Let's see what's up over there." Jaeger's face is a thundercloud and Athala's normally dreamy expression is replaced with a blank visage.

Thorn lets out a soft breath, at the same time unceremoniously putting a hand on the sniper's chest and pushing him back down. "Thank you," he says to Athala, heartfeltly.

Cinnamon stands up quickly, glancing down as the blanket falls from her shoulders -- then gives a small, "eep!" -- and sits right back down, reaching to hastily grab the blanket back up. She wraps it quickly around herself, nearly stuttering, "Um, d-do you think they'd mind if I... er, kept the blanket for a bit?" She blushes as she admits in a whisper, "N-need to -- to change my shirt... Wait. That's silly -- where's my backpa- ah, here we go." She fumbles out another shirt, then glances around a bit bemusedly. "Umm... Shane, c-could you hold the blanket for a moment please? Like a barrier, while I change my shirt? Please?"

Shane stands with Cinnamon and chuckles gently, "I'm sure they'll be fine letting you keep it for a bit. C'mon..." He pauses and arches a brow, the smiles that she trusts him to do it. "Of course..." He's got arms long enough to stretch it quite far and he's tall enough to hold it so that her entire upper torso is blocked.

Cinnamon whews quietly, making sure that Shane's not looking first -- then she sort of half crouches and yanks the torn shirt unceremoniously off and drops it. In the next heartbeat she whips the other shirt on, careful not to tear it from her embarrassment... then she straightens and sighs in relief, "There we go!" She tidies up the shirt and pulls her hair free of it, then smiles a bit shakily at Shane, "All good? Thank you!"

The sniper grunts as Thorn pushes him back down. He's better, but he's still hurting. Jaeger snorts at the sounds of pain and mutters, "Verdammter Feigling hat es verdient!" Athala nods just a little and says almost sweetly to the sniper, "Now, we are going to speak together. There are many questions and you will answer them all. Verstehen?" The sniper's accent is actually Slavic rather than Latinx, "You will not make me talk!"

"Now, now," Thorn says. "Mustn't tempt."

Athala sighs as if she truly regrets what she's saying, "Oh, we will. You may even want to do so..." She actually reaches down to caress the sniper's cheek, "It will go so very much easier." Cinnamon stuffs her torn shirt higgledy-piggledy into her backpack, shouldering it before she tags on over behind Shane. She peers almost shyly at the man, studying him with perplexed interest. Shane walks with Cinnamon, putting the blanket back around her as if she might need it against the cold. His voice is quiet, "Quinn can make people talk... I wonder if someone here has the same ability..."

Cinnamon accepts the blanket with relief, glancing up at Shane as she murmurs curiously, "What does Marcus do? And what does his father do? Or do abilities run in family lines?"

Shane shakes his head, "Not so much. Quinn can make you talk. He makes you want to talk. I can hear truth... if I concentrate. So I don't think it's in family lines."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "Okay. So then what do Marcus and his dad do?"

Shane thinks, "Honestly, I don't know what Marcus does. Nor Jaeger. Not everyone lets their abilities be known."

Cinnamon nods silently, turning to regard the sniper. She's quietly glad that Shane is so honest about his ability. She'd be seriously creeped out if something like that were a shocking revelation, after all. Though... actually she can see how it might be really useful to keep stuff like that hidden... does she have anything like- oh, wait, right: Marcus knows she can detect the composition of metals, so that means... Cinnamon's mind runs along without her, in nervous reflex, as she continues quietly watching the strange man.

Jaeger is looking down at the sniper with a look of pure disgust, "She is right. You will want to tell us." Jaeger motions to someone and a young man -- at least he looks young, but it's hard to tell with the elves since Jaeger is the only one they've seen that looks aged -- comes over and speaks quietly with Athala and Jaeger. Athala's hand never leaves Thorn. It's hard to tell who she's comforting.

Thorn keeps his attention on the sniper, though he is slowly relaxing with Athala's touch upon him. He has little doubt that the sidhe will be able to get the man to 'talk,' though... well, no, he isn't particularly concerned as to the sniper's condition afterward. The man is either a mercenary or a zealot; Thorn has strong opinions about mercenaries, and zealots, well... the sniper would be dangerous in the future. Cinnamon leans forward a bit to study the man, whispering to Shane, "Did they tie him up or something? I know he had a knife and a gun, at least!"

The new sidhe smiles down at the sniper and says quietly, "You look as if you feel much better. What's your name?" The sniper's expression looks as if he's about to snarl something unflattering, but what comes out is, "Dmitry." Then he looks shocked. Shane murmurs back quietly, "They won't have to tie him up." Cinnamon finds herself eventually leaning a bit against Shane, peeking nervously around him and studying the assassin closely. No one has tried to block her or tell her she shouldn't stand so close... and she's very curious -- bewildered, even -- as to what would cause someone to do the things this man has done.

The sniper looks almost horrified and the elf that was brought over smiles. "There, wasn't that easy? Now, Dmitry, why are you here?" Thorn's expression hardens slightly, as he puts any preconceptions out of his mind. Good; now they have a chance to learn the truth without second-guessing themselves.

Dmitry's jaws clench for a moment and the elf reaches down to touch his head. The sniper's hand tries to come up as well, but Jaeger catches it, "Now, now, arschloch. None of that." The gentle interrogator says again, "Why are you here?"

This time, there's no struggle as Dmitry says, "We were hired. We were brought here by a dark man and showed the way in. We were supposed to leave only a handful alive."

Cinnamon whispers in shock, "Why?!" Thorn passes a hand over his eyes. Mercenaries. Hired killers. Nothing more than that. He could have almost forgiven zealots -- or at least understood their conviction. But this.... Shane's arm around Cinnamon tightens slightly.

There's some more from Jaeger that sounds angry, but Athala lays her hand on his shoulder and speaks quietly and he settles. Through questioning, they find out that the sniper and his fellow mercs (there are five others besides the three Cinnamon saw and all of them are dead) were contracted by an anonymous third party. Dmitry doesn't seem to know much about the person that brought him here other than the man had dark skin and an accent. When asked what accent, the merc snarls, "How do I know? Not Russian. Not American. And why? Money! Why else?"

Cinnamon thinks... what dark men has she seen? Were there any in Killa's compound? "What's the tattoo mean, please?" She frowns thoughtfully -- she remembers some dark men in Killa's compound! Most of them were dark-skinned, in fact. Though... honesty compels her to also note that Sparrow is dark-skinned too... and so is Josie in her human form. Hmm... Jalil and Qadan were both dark-skinned too, actually. She sighs. Well, so much for that thread of an idea!

Thorn mutters quietly, under his breath, "Piece of... offal." He remains quiet through the interrogation, though, letting others more skilled pose the questions to the mercenary.

Dmitry doesn't seem to be answering Cinnamon directly, but when the elf asks it a second time, he does. "Snakes -- they are stealthy and deadly. I am also stealthy and deadly." He peers at Cinnamon and slowly remembers, eyes opening widely. He tries suddenly to skitter back away from her, babbling something in some sort of Slavic language. Shane mutters, "I wish we had Jarek here..."

Cinnamon pulls out her cell phone and starts recording the guy. Thorn says to Cinnamon, "Well, well. Looks like he recognizes you. Which means he's been on Coblyn Street recently."

It takes a while to get any more information out of the man because he's quite terrified of Cinnamon and keeps on in his language every once in a while. What they eventually get is that he works for a 'private security firm' based out of the Ukraine and that they were only told that they would be taking out a cult of 'tree-huggers.' Shane murmurs to Thorn, "I think he might recognize her from..." he doesn't want to say 'almost being burned to death' for fear of upsetting Cinnamon, "from being caught by her. She was in his sights when he almost shot me."

Cinnamon smiles uncertainly at Thorn, "Uhh... no? I mean, I..." she takes a deep breath, then nods at Shane, blurting it out quickly, "Iflamedhim!"

Thorn blinks, and then facepalms. "Right. My bad. I'm not sure how I forgot about that."

Cinnamon grins nervously at Thorn, whispering, "S-sorry?"

There's a bit of data they are able to get. Eventually, they get the name of the company, but that actually takes some work. There must be some conditioning in place. At one point, he tries to come off the bench and hurt someone, but he's not fully healed and drops back with a howl of pain. Cinnamon flinches back at that! She's more cautious once he's down again, though she's still peering confusedly at him and sorting through ideas in her head.

Thorn smiles at Cinnamon. "No worries, it was my fault for forgetting-" He helps to get the merc back onto the bench. "The more you put up a fight, the more you're going to hurt," he says. "Though it's obvious now that we don't have to let you die."

Jaeger says quietly, "If he leaves here, it will have to be with a very strong suggestion from someone that he not remember the trod. Otherwise we are at risk."

Cinnamon says, "Oh, that's it!" She beams at the sudden realization of how they might track down this 'dark man,' turning to Jaeger to ask, "Who's come to the trod? Any other councilors?"

Dmitry's eyes are wide at Jaeger's cool demeanor. He does relax a little at Thorn's words, however. Jaeger nods, lips thin, "Killa has been here. Jalil. Sparrow. Aisling. Aoi has not come because I think she does not like the wilds."

Athala says quietly, "Elias has not been because travel here is hard for him, but he would be welcome. Liam did visit us." Thorn, for the moment, does not clarify for Dmitry that what he said was a threat.

Cinnamon hmms, no longer recording now the man isn't babbling in a foreign tongue. Instead she flips through her photo gallery on her phone... then brightens again, "Oh, here we go!" She smiles at the prisoner, showing first a photo of Killa, "Is this your dark man?" She's got photos of many of the other councilors ready to share as well.

Dmitry peers at it and shakes his head, "No. This is not him." Cinnamon nods, showing (in order) photos of Jalil, Sparrow, Bala, Nasteexo's bodyguard, Qadan, and (for good measure) Jarek. She also glances at Shane occasionally, to see if he's reacting to the guy lying or something. Dmitry looks at them and -- with occasional nudging -- answers about each of them. None of the ones she has pictures of prove to be the right one, but the skin color -- as far as he remembers -- is somewhere between Nasteexo's very dark bodyguard and Jalil. So, not Latinx or Native American as far as they can tell.

Cinnamon nods and absently thanks the prisoner, studying her phone with perplexity... then she looks up again, "Oh! Tree huggers -- so you weren't told about me, I take it? You weren't expecting something with fire?"

Dmitry says, "I was not expecting a strega! Or these... things..." He's looking around at the absolutely positively non-human looking members of the trod.

Thorn says, a touch mockingly, "Welcome to the real world, Dmitry. Aren't you glad you took that contract?" After a moment, he asks, "What's a strega?"

Cinnamon grins, wondering what a strega is... isn't it Italian for 'witch' or something? -- but then a horrible thought occurs to her. Her eyes widen, and she turns to slowly stare at Jaeger, "Oh, no... oh, dear!" She takes a breath, then asks almost faintly, "How... how long was it, please, between your talking to Elias and nearly changing your mind on the reveal... and your injury, sir?" Marcus had tea with her only two days ago! Her brain is racing frantically, nearly gibbering internally, [It was just a simple tea! It wasn't anything dangerous! ...was it?!]

Dmitry says, "Witch! Witch! Evil woman!" He glares at Thorn and spits something that is obviously a curse in whichever of the Slavic countries he's from.

"Oh, is that all?" Thorn shakes his head. "You have a skewed definition of 'evil,' Dmitry. Or have you forgotten what you came here to do?"

Jaeger thinks, "I spoke with Elias -- and Liam -- several times about it. The last time was perhaps a week after speaking to him. I had made my decision then."

Cinnamon sighs in abrupt relief, almost sinking down to sit on the foot of the bench the prisoner is on, "Oh, thank goodness! For a moment I thought it was my fault!" She glances up with a wry smile, explaining, "I had tea with Marcus two days ago -- I wanted to understand his reasoning on revealing! For a moment I thought this had to be a direct strike at him... because of my curiosity, you know?"

There's some conversation and murmuring. "I would be concerned for my son," Jaeger says, "except Butler is there to protect him."

Cinnamon looks curious, "What does Butler do?" Then she shakes her head, "Wait, no -- that's not important right now! I'm sorry -- I meant more that this was an attack meant to hurt Marcus, you know? To, like, warn him not to deviate from the party line?"

Jaeger's lips thin, "If it was, then it will not stand. You do not slaughter innocents! That is not glorious nor noble." Athala smiles at Thorn and strokes his hair, murmuring, "My smart dearling."

Cinnamon looks a bit forlorn, "I'm sorry there wasn't any glory here, sir." She wonders suddenly if Marcus has had any warrior training... then shakes her head again: not important right now!

Jaeger shakes his head, "There was glory in the defense of this place." He turns to Odalric and another of the warriors, "Take him to my house. Put him in the cellar. We will deal with him later."

Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully again as she studies the wounded attacker. Who would be so... so brutal, so bloody? Who would murder so many just to leave a message... and what could the message possibly be? She muses as she watches the assassin being carried away. Given the skin color and the money needed... hmm. Nasteexo doesn't really seem malevolent, honestly... plus their people are largely from underdeveloped countries in Africa, or from poorer neighborhoods in the US, as she recalls. On the other hand... Jalil covers northern Africa and the middle East -- he'd certainly have the money for it!

Cinnamon frowns, confused -- why would Jalil actually apologize to her for Killa being a butthead, though... and then think that a massacre of innocent people was appropriate?! She frowns again, standing up abruptly and flipping through her photos -- does she have a pic of the trickster person that delivered the letter from Jalil to her place? What was his name... Cinnamon sighs frustratedly -- no snapshot! Oh -- but his name was... ah! Moustapha, that's it. But then Cinnamon's eyes light up as she remembers something really distinctive about Moustapha -- he never stopped smiling! She turns and darts after the people carrying away the wounded attacker, calling, "Excuse me! A moment, please? May I?!" She glances over her shoulder -- almost tripping in the process -- as she calls back, "Shane! Could you come too, please?!"

Shane bemusedly watches Cinnamon scamper off. At her call, though, Shane nods and comes with her. The two people carrying Dmitry away pause and look at Jaeger, who nods to let them know they can pause for Cinnamon. Cinnamon beams breathlessly at the elves, "Oh, thank you so much! I just -- whew! Sorry -- I just wanted to ask one last question of Dimitry, please?" She waits until Shane's there too, catching her breath... then she beams at the prisoner and says, "The dark man that led you here! Did he never stop smiling?" She crosses her fingers, though she's not sure which answer she'd like better, honestly.

Shane is looking intently at Dmitry as Cinnamon asks her question. Dmitry blinks at Cinnamon and says, "He... smiled and laughed a lot, but he was quiet on the last quarter mile."

Cinnamon says, "But still smiling? Quiet but smiling? Or no?"

Dmitry frowns... then says carefully, "Yes. The smile, it got bigger as we got closer."

Cinnamon's eyes widen at that! Pushing her glasses up, she says breathlessly, "Okay thank you so much that's all I've got byebye!" She whirls to Shane, her face expectant: was that truth?!

Thorn's head shoots up. "'Closer'?" he asks. "Closer to where?"

Shane's face is as storm-cloud-y as Cinnamon has ever seen it and he nods sharply. Athala says to Thorn, "I dearly hope he means closer to here."

Cinnamon grins uncertainly at Shane's assurance -- then she glances between him, and Athala and Thorn, her voice breathless with excitement, "Moustafa -- it was Moustafa! Jalil must be behind this!" She hesitates, then adds, "I... think? I mean, the skin tone would match... and Jalil would have the money to finance it, maybe?"

Thorn says, "I hope so, too! Erin! Pretty girl, please, fly, fly outside, see if there's anyone or any vehicle nearby!" He's already moving to head outside.

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Thorn, "Uh... what?"

Erin caws to Thorn and then launches herself into the air. Jaeger nods to Thorn and says, "He is checking to see if there is backup in the area. If this dark man is still there..."

Cinnamon's eyes get even wider, "Still... but why would- oh! Wait, a mischief spirit -- you're right! He might! I mean, he might stick around so he could see the results of his plan, right?" She's already hustling worriedly after Thorn, calling, "Wait, Thorn! Do we know if he carries a gun?!" She glances over her shoulder at Shane again, "Does he?!" and again, nearly trips over her own feet! She mutters, "Darnit!" and tries to focus a bit more on her running.

Thorn pauses, and curses softly. "I don't know if he does," he says. "Be stupid of me to face down someone with a gun without one myself...." He doesn't do guns, though. He grits his teeth, and lets more martial defenders of the trod go out.

Shane whoas! and goes to stop Cinnamon, "Wait! Wait!"

Cinnamon catches up to Thorn, resting a hand on his arm as she pants for a moment, "Nono, I just... whew! I j-just meant, like, don't rush out blindly, y'know?" She grins tiredly up at him as she adds, "I can go first, okay?" At Shane's hail, though, she glances around inquiringly, "Yes?"

Shane catches up fairly easily. He's got grace and balance, "Wait for the bird."

"Oh!" Cinnamon grins sheepishly at Shane, "Good point."

There's some quiet bustling as people move to continue caring for the wounded and take the dead away quietly. It's several minutes -- somewhere between fifteen and thirty -- and Thorn suddenly has doubled vision of Erin's surroundings. Thorn nods, "You're right," he says to CInnamon. "Sorry, I got too panicked. I just- yerk!" He blinks, seeing the double vision of his and Erin's surroundings. "One moment, Erin sees something!" He closes his eyes, concentrating on what Erin is showing him... and marking up another treat of red currants for her.

Cinnamon gasps at Thorn's exclamation, but then relaxes at the explanation. She brightens hopefully, watching Thorn's face and occasionally glancing through the exit to outside the trod. Absently she wonders if her huge bruise on the side of her face can be covered up with makeup... then grins amusedly at herself -- silly thing to be worrying about now!

From what Erin's seeing, there are ATV tracks. Several of the vehicles seem to have been on the trail, but she's also seeing another of the vehicles about three miles out from the entrance of the trod. The rider is wearing a helmet. Thorn bares his teeth. "ATVs. They drove up almost to the trod... but there's one about three miles out. Rider with helmet. Dammit... I don't think we can catch him. The ATV is traveling at-speed. They can move pretty quickly."

Cinnamon thinks for a moment... then nods slowly, "Whoever it is, they figured out something went wrong and they're fleeing, then. Makes sense." She glances at Shane, adding, "Any way for someone at Coblyn to check on stuff there, Shane, if we step outside and try to make a call? Like... if Moustapha's not there?" She grins tiredly, starting to step out of the trod as she adds, "If I leave, can I still find my way back in?"

Shane thinks, "There's plenty of way... but there was no signal for the last several miles... we're in the boonies." He looks at the closest trod member, "No offense."

Cinnamon fooies as she steps out, "None at all? Even on this side of the trod?" She fumbles for her cell phone as she takes a few steps away from the trod entrance, "It can't hurt to at least try, can it?" Shane was right. There's no signal. Here, you'd likely need a satellite phone. Cinnamon mutters disappointedly to herself -- then frowns determinedly and holds up the cell above her head so she can still see it, but maybe it can get signal easier. She takes a few steps down the path, turning from side to side... but then almost trips over her own feet again. "Dammit!" She catches herself just as she staggers slightly off the path, leaves crunching noisily under her feet.

The leaves here are thick and heavy on the ground. The forest is left to its own devices. Just off the trail -- about where someone might step if they were letting someone around them -- Cinnamon's foot slips and there is a loud snap of a spring letting loose as a large, toothed trap is triggered. Cinnamon's arms splay out as she goes flying over backwards! Her head smacks into the roots of a nearby tree, leaving her lying dizzy and confused for a moment. Staring up at the tree's blurry branches, she mumbles a quiet, "Ow!" Cinnamon sighs to herself -- everyone saw her trip and fall, didn't they? Dear heavens, could her life be any more embarrassing?!

Thorn blinks as he hears the snap! -- he runs over to Cinnamon. "Are you okay?!" he asks quickly, crouching down beside her to check what damage the trap did to her.

Cinnamon blinks again, realizing with a moment of panic: Thorn is blurry! She gasps, "Glasses! Watchoutdon'tstep-" as she fumbles around madly for them -- the cell phone can wait! She tries to sit up and realizes whatever tripped her is also apparently tangled around her legs. No problem -- she'll figure that out later. First: glasses!!

The trap is heavy and toothed. If a Kodiak stepped in this thing, it would be quite well-snared. If this is what Jaeger stepped into, it's a miracle he didn't lose a leg. Shane is also over there in a flash, "What the f..." He looks around and then at Thorn, "I'm going after someone in the trod. Watch her, please."

Thorn nods, then calls back to Shane, "Watch where you step!" He says to Cinnamon, "Try not to move a lot. Someone decided to do a repeat trick. How do you feel? Can you feel your toes?" He tries to see how much blood there is, and what injury Cinnamon suffered... if any, she is a Dragon after all.

Something sort of tumbles down onto Cinnamon's face as she struggles upright! After a small, panicked squeak, she realizes what it is: "My glasses!" Hugely relieved, she beams, "Found 'em!" and sets them properly into place. She blinks at Thorn bemusedly, "My... toes?! No, Thorn, it was my glasses that... er..." She blinks slowly, staring at her leg -- the one with a huge bear trap closed around it!

The trap has done some damage. It's strong and heavy, after all, but there's nowhere near the damage it would have done to Thorn. Or Shane. And if it had been one of the elves, it would be like having a broken, poisoned leg. The damage is mostly small scrapes and what may turn out to be some nasty bruising. Cinnamon pauses... takes a deep breath, then... pauses again... then finally says slowly, "Uh, Thorn? Do you... I mean, well, wait-" She reaches behind herself, checking carefully where she smacked her head. Hmm... doesn't feel sticky at all? She checks: nope, no blood on her fingers. She sighs slowly, still staring at the trap as she says, "It's... a bear trap, isn't it." Somehow, it's not a question. She looks mournfully at Thorn, "Darnit! I didn't pack extra jeans!"

Shane moves fast. He doesn't move as fast as, say, his father might be able to, but he's a lot quicker than a human. Moments later, he's back with two male elves. They've both got heavy staves and start prodding at the humus on either side of the trail. Cinnamon sighs, reaching for the trap, "Well, let's get it off me. Do you know how to take them off?"

Thorn lets out a relieved breath. "Yes," he says, "it is. I'm going to make a wild guess and say that whoever put it here also put the one which got Jaeger." He gives a slight laugh, "I'm so glad it didn't do more than bruise or scratch you! Okay... um, getting it off... we'll need a lever of some kind, maybe, and pry it open...?"

Cinnamon tugs ineffectively at one of the toothed jaws, yeeping as it tugs against a scrape -- then she scowls, "Stupid thing! Pry it open? Okay, let's try that." She scrabbles for a moment until she can get her fingers hooked around the jaws, one in each hand. She takes a deep breath... then yanks on it as hard as she can as she snaps, "Stupid... horrible thing!"

Shane crouches and reaches for Thorn and Cinnamon's hands, "Whoa! Wait! Push down here..." He shows Cinnamon and Thorn the springs on the outside to push down on, "It's how you open the trap to set it..." It's a strong trap. Both Shane and Thorn can feel that it's resisting.

Cinnamon blinks at Shane, then watches carefully... then nods, "Got it." She takes another deep breath, then shoves down as hard as she can on the outside springs. For Cinnamon, it feels like maybe opening a binder clip. The two springs push down and the jaws of the trap fall open, giving her room to pull her foot back. Cinnamon sighs in relief, "There we go!" and pulls out her foot. Trying to remain positive despite her torn jeans, she adds, "That wasn't so bad! Could've been a lot worse." She straightens her jeans, glaring at the trap, "Good thing it wasn't working right!"

Thorn yelps and falls back, blinking. "Cinnamon!" he exclaims. "When... how... were you always that strong?!" He exchanges a look with Shane. "Uh... 'not working right'?"

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Thorn, "What? No, I'm sturdy, not strong?" She pauses, then looks worried, "Oh, heck -- you guys aren't like standing on my cell phone or something, are you?" She looks around for it, muttering under her breath.

Shane's brows go up and he looks over at Thorn, then back at Cinnamon, "That thing was working right... hold on." He goes to one of the elves looking for other traps and speaks with him quietly. To reset the trap, Shane has to actually step on the springs and then there's some resistance. Once he gets it set, he steps carefully away and then pushes the staff onto the pan of the trap... which snaps close with another of those springing noises... and shears off the last eight inches of the wrist-thick staff.

Cinnamon watches puzzledly -- then yelps startledly as the trap works perfectly! Her eyes get really wide then, and she pales noticeably as she stares at the shattered staff for a moment... then down at her leg. Her voice is a bit small as she says, "I, uhhmm... c-can we g-get out of here, p-please? Before anyone g-gets hurt?!"

Thorn says soothingly, "We are. Getting out of here, I mean." He glances towards the ATVs... then shakes his head. If the Smiling Man thought to leave bear traps, he surely thought to sabotage the ATVs in a similarly nasty manner.

Shane nods, "Yes. We're getting out of here, but we need to let them know what happened. Thorn, do you need to say goodbye to your lady?"

Cinnamon gasps with relief as she spots her cell phone leaning against the tree trunk. She grabs it up, then stumbles up to her feet, glancing around a bit wildly. The calm of the two men helps her ground a little, and she takes a few deep breaths... then asks Thorn, "Is your little bird still watching the guy?"

Erin has followed the ATV, but it's further ahead than they can get easily. Thorn nods, "She's following him, but he's pretty far ahead."

Cinnamon takes a few careful steps as well, then adds with a small grin, "Pity she can't secretly crap on the back of that jerk's jacket, so we can identify him later!" She looks up then, remembering, "Oh! My backpack!" She turns and stumbles a bit, heading for the trod's entrance. Over her shoulder she adds, "Well, ATVs have to weave through terrain more than a flying bird would, surely? Or if he's in town already, she can just maybe spot where he leaves the machine, and we can check it out later? Darnit!" That last exclamation is due to yet another stumble -- and after that she focuses on the trail.

It was lack of concentration that caused her to stumble into the darned bear trap too, after all! Though... thinking about it, she's really glad it was her rather than one of the sidhe that triggered it. She brightens as she steps into the trod and remembers: she's still got her hopefully cool idea for Thorn and Jaeger too! Maybe now would be good?

Shane takes them back into the trod, but not before picking up the trap, holding it carefully and trying to keep his hands away from the toothed jaws. He knows the elven members of the trod are going to be uneasy with an iron trap. But if it's the same person that set a trap for Jaeger, they might have poisoned it similarly. At least if the trap Jaeger triggered was poisoned and not just iron.

Cinnamon glances around for either Athala or Jaeger as she waits for Thorn to step into sight again too. Thorn nods at Cinnamon's comments, and asks Erin to keep sight of their quarry -- especially where they park the ATV in the nearest town, if they even go to the nearest town -- ATVs aren't highway-rated, or at least are extremely distinctive, and it's possible that the rider will simply go back to where the truck that carried them here is waiting. Erin gives Thorn the impression that she will be happy to follow.

When they're back in the trod and the glade, both Athala and Jaeger are there. Shane is looking a little stony faced. Cinnamon beams as she turns to Thorn, "So, I have a question, Thorn! From what I've been given to understand regarding magic, it's pretty much shaped by your mind and your will, right? Like you subtly influence the world around you by merely willing it to happen? So... have you thought about a visualization to create a specific effect?" She blinks a bit puzzledly at Shane... but if he doesn't give her any indication of how to react, she's still internally bubbly with excitement regarding her possible idea to share with Thorn.

"That's right," Thorn says, smiling. "Magic is a fluid thing. The little magic I can do isn't terribly powerful, and the changes I can make are relatively small. What sort of visualization were you thinking of?"

Cinnamon beams excitedly, almost bouncing as she says, "A magical brush! Like this:" she holds one hand out as if she's holding a large fan, and starts describing it while gesticulating with the other hand, "...and the feathers are the biggest and softest and longest -- longer than a body's width! -- and completely, um, what's the word... not translucent... but like, they drift through the body without touching anything? And you can slowly and gently brush through the body with the brush, from top to bottom... and the only thing it picks up? -- is that the feathers soak up the poison!" She pushes her glasses back into place, beaming excitedly at Thorn, "What do you think? Could you do it?! Like, like... magically just sweep the poison out of someone? Like Jaeger there?!"

Thorn taps his chin thoughtfully. "Visualizing a poison-scooping brush. It sounds like a metaphor for healing magic, but it certainly can't hurt to try it!"

Cinnamon grins and noddles excitedly, "Yeah!" She whirls towards Jaeger, adding pleadingly, "So... can we try? Please?" To Thorn she adds, "Can I help you visualize at all, to help?"

Shane says quietly, "I think you mean insubstantial."

Cinnamon says, "Oh! Yes, that's it!" She grins happily, pushing her glasses back into place, "Thanks, Shane!"

Shane nods and speaks quietly with someone, asking for a good place to put the trap, then coming back. Jaeger looks between the two of them, "Ja. We can try."

Cinnamon brightens, "Oh, yay! Thank you for being willing to try, Mr. Jaeger! I really really want to find some kind of healing for the nettles -- because if the poison can hurt both you and Liam, then it's incredibly dangerous!"

Shane clears his throat, "We need to check Cinnamon for the poison."

Cinnamon blinks at Shane, "I... didn't feel anything on my jeans? But... sure?" She sits down on a bench, setting her backpack next to her.

Thorn blinks, then nods to Shane, grimacing, "You're right. If they did it before, they would do it again." It's not the nettles he's thinking of, but the bear trap being poisoned. "While you check her for being poisoned, I'll prepare the spell to try on Jaeger. If it works on him, and Cinnamon is poisoned, then this should clear the poison from her as well."

Cinnamon hastily gets Jaeger to stand on her torn shirt first -- maybe if the poison is swept out onto the shirt, they can study it or something? She tilts her head curiously as she watches. Jaeger steadies himself on his walking stick and Odalric steps up on one side. Shane, without being asked and without asking, steps up on the other. Each of the younger men take one of the elder's elbows -- sometimes sudden healing can cause collapse. Cinnamon doesn't quite wriggle with excitement, where she's watching on the bench!

Thorn takes in a deep breath, and visualizes in his mind the image Cinnamon gave to him: a long, feathery brush with nearly insubstantial bristles, meant to sweep poisons and toxins from the body. It is an ephemeral thing, barely looking like a brush except in his mind's eye... but he brings it into being between his hands, and as he passes it along Jaeger's leg he wills the poisons to be gathered by the feathers.

It turns out to be good that the two men are standing by Jaeger. He's been balancing in such a way as to keep weight off that leg for a long time now. The strange, almost fluid feeling of the insubstantial feathers/brush makes his knees buckle. Once Odalric and Shane have made sure he's steady, Jaeger carefully shifts his posture until he's standing upright on both feet. There's a collective gasp of amazement. Cinnamon can't help the small, delighted/excited, "Eeek!" that escapes her -- but she stays on the bench and out of the way despite an almost crazy urge to dance around exuberantly!

Jaeger says something in an awestruck voice. The language sounds Germanic, but possibly not actual German. Cinnamon beams, leaning to whisper to Athala, "What'd he say, please?!"

Athala leans in and murmurs, "What he said is basically 'The gods have blessed you.' He means, of course, my sweet Thorn." Cinnamon beams and nodnods at that! -- then goes back to happily watching. She's so pleased she's swinging her legs and humming!

Thorn almost hesitates when Jaeger stumbles, but then continues, passing the brush along the man's entire body to ensure all the poison is withdrawn. Then Thorn very carefully separates the bristles from Jaeger's body -- as insubstantial as they may be, he doesn't want to risk any poison getting back into the sidhe! The sense of the effects of the poison leaving Jaeger's body were obvious to Thorn. The leg was badly damaged by it, but there didn't seem to be much in the rest of his body.

Cinnamon watches carefully at the end there -- does the poison become manifest and fall on the shirt? She's definitely taking some of it back to Elias, if so! Unfortunately the poison itself does not manifest. The toxin was either neutralized inside Jaeger's body or was long gone with just the damage lingering. Cinnamon sighs, still smiling -- this was an incredible win for them all, regardless! She's still beaming as she watches Thorn finish with his miraculous procedure. Thorn lets out a breath, and lets the 'brush' evaporate into magical nothingness. "That's a relief. How are you feeling, Sir?"

Cinnamon laughs delightedly and applauds, "Yay! Awesomesauce, Thorny!"

Jaeger reaches down to touch his leg, amazement in his eyes. He raises his face and looks at Thorn, "I owe you much, Thorn." He smiles wryly and murmurs, "Sadly, I will not be able to retake my council seat unless my son willingly gives it up. I do not see that happening."

Cinnamon pushes her glasses up, her voice curious, "How come?"

Jaeger chuckles and sighs, "Because I officially abdicated it. He's not my proxy. He is the councillor."

Thorn smiles quietly to Jaeger, "I'm just glad I could help."

Jaeger reaches to Thorn and squeezes his shoulder, "So am I." Athala rises and comes over, stroking the side of Thorn's face, "My sweet man. I am so proud of you."

Thorn doesn't quite melt at Athala's touch, but it's close. Then he blinks, remembering, "We, ah, we should do the same for Cinnamon too, just in case the trap was poisoned."

Cinnamon sounds curious again, "How do you tell if it's poisoned?" She glances at Shane, wondering why he looked so stony-faced previously -- was it something to do with the bear trap, maybe? She nods at that, considering carefully for a moment -- then grins, looking rather proud of Thorn, herself, as well! She's so relieved to have discovered that both he and Athala are 'good guys'! Though... that still leaves the issue of the merc attack... hmm. Cinnamon finally says thoughtfully, "You know... the way to find out who did this... if it's anything like with humans? We've got to 'follow the money,' as they say." She uses 'scare quotes' as she says that, then looks hopeful, "Do any of you know any computer hackers? If they could get me the mercenaries' company's raw database then I could comb through it and make sense of it?"

Jaeger and Athala listen to Cinnamon, and Athala laughs warmly, "Very few of us know anything at all about computers, much less someone who can use them in any in-depth way. Perhaps someone that lives closer to the human world than we do." At the comments about the trap, Athala ahs, "We'll test it. In the meantime, would you perhaps wish to bathe to make sure there's nothing lingering on the skin?"

Cinnamon blushes a bit as she glances around, half-expecting to see a pond suddenly materialize nearby! She really doesn't want to bathe in public, though, "Oh! I, er -- uhh, I w-wouldn't want to... to put anyone out...?" She sighs as she adds, "I take it, Shane, by your not mentioning it, that you don't know anyone on Coblyn that's really computer-savvy either?" She frowns consideringly, muttering, "Darnit! We really need someone who can do that, though -- because I'm a spreadsheet kind of girl, not a hacker!"

Athala is still gently petting Thorn and she raises an eyebrow at Cinnamon, "Put anyone out? After you saved our lives?"

Shane shakes his head, "You and John have the only computers I really know of on Coblyn. But we can ask around. Coblyn is the heart of the enclave, but there are people connected to it that don't live in it."

Cinnamon nods a bit glumly to Shane. She knows what she needs is a really crackerjack hacker! Someone who plays occasionally with computers isn't really what they need... and honestly she'd be afraid such a person would get caught and hurt. She won't ask that of anyone that isn't really confident in their computer skills. She sighs again, then pastes on a polite smile for Athala, "I, um... well, I... don't want to be rude, but I'd really rather, ummm... use indoor plumbing, please?"

Odalric chuckles at that, "There are enclosed bathing facilities. But if you wish pipes and drains and so forth, you will need to be outside the trod."

Cinnamon looks hopeful, "Enclosed? Like... private?" Wistfully she says, "That'd be lovely, if that's okay?" Odalric nods and calls over one of the non-elven members of the trod, speaking quietly with them about taking Cinnamon somewhere to bathe. When it's decided Cinnamon is going elsewhere, Shane moves to go with her. Cinnamon beams up at Shane as she follows the non-elf, whispering, "Didn't Thorn do awesome?!" She does a happy little skip as she adds, "I'm so pleased I shared my idea, instead of not having the guts to tell! Oooh! Also, maybe this will encourage Jaeger to come to Coblyn and back us up, if we can figure out who did this!"

Cinnamon pauses at a sudden thought, then glances back curiously at the half-sidhe, "Hey, um, Shane? W-why did you look... um, sort of... like... almost grim-faced when we came back in?" She hesitates, then adds cautiously, "It was almost like... like someone had just said something rude to you or something...?"

Shane watches Cinnamon skip along, face relaxing... right up until she asks about his grim expression, "I was handling something akin to a bomb. The iron doesn't hurt me to touch, but it could have been poisoned and I was bringing it into a trod." He clears his throat, "And it reminds me of why me Da' is stuck at his home trod."

Cinnamon blinks curiously at Shane, "He's... stuck? What happened? The poor man! Is he okay?"

Shane says, "Quinn? Quinn's fine. My grandfather, Branigan, died in an accident." His lips curve wryly and he says, "As Quinn put it, 'Somehow a beansidhe who has walked this land for hundreds of years fell down this nasty little gully and bashed his head on a rock.'" He shrugs and shakes his head, "There's some weird, convoluted treaty in effect. Quinn has to stay at the trod."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly as she patters along next to Shane, following the little creature leading them... then hesitantly asks, "Don't... aren't there like, um, police to look into cases like that?"

Shane shakes his head, "It's... different out there." He motions around them, "It's like here. There are healers and there are warriors and there are scholars. When they found Branigan, he was too far gone for the healers to help. There'd been a rainshower before his accident and him being found. And it's not like we have regular forensics."

Cinnamon is silent for a few heartbeats before she finally sighs, "...oh. I... I'm sorry, Shane. Do you miss him terribly?" She pushes her glasses back into place as she glances up at the half-sidhe, thinking how nice it might feel to actually love one's parents, "Your father Quinn, I mean?" She pauses, frowning thoughtfully, "Wait. I thought there were... well, things like... like magic? Scrying or stuff like that?"

Shane smiles crookedly, "I was eighteen when I met Quinn. I grew up here in the US. Trod of the Rowan's in Ireland. He'd been Chieftain since before I was born. Oh, there are ways of scrying. There are ways of blocking scrying. All anyone could get was that he tripped and stumbled and fell..." That's when they reach the bath house, "I'll stay out here."

Cinnamon nods slowly, still somewhat perplexed -- but her reflexive thanks to Shane is sincere. She steps cautiously into the bathhouse, unsure as to what to expect. There aren't pipes, but there are what seem to be heated brass tubs and one of the trod's streams has been redirected as a sort of sluiceway to rinse off. There are towels and cloths and what seem to be various soaps. Cinnamon glances around shyly, hoping no one else is there. She has very unpleasant memories of showering in the girls' locker room all through her high school years, after all! If she's alone, though, she'll grab a towel and cleaning materials, then hastily shed her clothing and hop into one of the heated tubs of water. A quick bath should be all right, surely?

Cinnamon is the only one in the immaculately clean room. She sighs in relief as she settles into the hot water... just a moment to relax should be okay. Then she remembers she's supposed to be washing off any possible poison -- eek! She sits up abruptly, with a small splash, and vigorously scrubs herself all over. Partway through she pauses and frowns... what about her clothes? If there's poison on them... won't she just be carrying it back with her? Cinnamon glances around bemusedly... what do the elves do -- or seem to do? -- in cases like this? Is there anything that looks at all like a washing machine nearby? A bit helplessly she wonders: what does an elven washing machine even look like?!

There's definitely no machinery. She could possibly wash her clothes or rinse them in the sluiceway. She's going to have to make do with the clothes she has. Cinnamon sighs quietly to herself -- ah, well. Help would have been nice, but... it's not like she's ever gotten any before. Why should now be different? As she rinses off she scolds herself mentally -- there was that one time! Shane chased off her dad -- that was help! She can just rinse off her jeans real good, after all. That should be sufficient... even if wet jeans are really icky feeling.

Cinnamon does her best to scrub the jeans legs together, in the hopes of either grinding up or rubbing off any possible nettles on them. Once that's done she wrings them out the best she can... then sighs, and struggles with them to get them on. Next time, she grimly reminds herself, she is packing an entire change of clothes! Heck, maybe she should start looking into clothes made of... of metal, or kevlar, or something! She hopes Shane doesn't get worried and come in after her while she's still just half-dressed -- that'd be humiliating! Bad enough he and Thorn saw her tumble rump over teakettle into the stupid trap, darnit!

Back in the glade, Athala sends a couple of young female sidhe to see if they can find clothes for Cinnamon to use. After that's taken care of, she sits down with Thorn and smiles, stroking his hair, "So, my sweet Thorn, what thoughts do you have of all this?"

Thorn now almost melts with Athala's touch. "I'm... worried, my Lady," he says. "Someone wanted to hurt the trod badly, killing people here. Isn't this kind of unprecedented? Has this sort of thing happened before?"

Athala sighs and continues stroking Thorn's hair, "Not entirely. Jaeger was attacked here, too. That trap and this one were both attacks of a sort. Having an actual invasion? I don't think it's happened in centuries. Before things were codified into councils..."

Thorn nods quietly, shivering a little. "I was afraid of that," he says quietly. "Someone's willing to throw away all the peace in order to... do something. I'm not even certain it's solely about revealing magic to mortals anymore."

Athala shakes her head, "I'm not sure either, Liebchen. It seems quite deadly. There are not so many of us for us to make war on one another. Not with the tools that are to be had today."

Thorn says quietly, "I don't want to think that another sidhe is capable of this. But the 'reveal' faction no longer seems the monolith it once was, either way."

Athala sighs and runs her fingers lightly through Thorn's hair before cupping his cheek, "No. Not a monolith at all. The hide faction are much more together on it." Thorn lifts his chin up slightly to tilt his head into her hand. He doesn't say anything at the moment; he's simply got no more data. They can only wait until they get back to Coblyn Street and see if Mustapha has anything to say for himself.

Back in the lovely bathing room, just as Cinnamon is finishing up there's a sharp knock at the door and Shane calls, "Cinnamon? Athala sent a couple of folks to help.."

Cinnamon squeaks startledly -- then catches her breath, "H-help? W-with what, please?" She glances around worriedly, "Am I, er... am I keeping folks out of the bathroom? I'm sorry, if so -- almost done!"

A Teutonic-tinged female voice says, "We brought some clothes! Athala said yours were damaged and might need washing!"

Cinnamon glances wryly down at her wet jeans -- she's managed to untangle one leg enough to have squinched it partially onto one leg! Then again... hmm. Her top half is covered, so... they shouldn't laugh too much at her? Plus: dry, maybe warm, not cold / sticky / clammy clothes... definite win! Cinnamon takes a deep breath, bracing herself mentally for derision -- or, if they're polite, hastily covered amusement -- and calls back, "Um, o-okay?"

Only once Cinnamon gives the OK does Shane let the two women in. They look like human teenagers, but they move more gracefully than a gangly 15-year-old. One has some clothes over her arms, the other has fresh towels -- as if they were told to make sure there were towels as well. The clothing turns out to be simple but sturdy. There's a type of heavy linen pants with a draw-string waist and a similarly simple tunic in a deep green. They look as if they might actually be slightly large. Cinnamon looks relieved, "Oh, thank you so much! I think my shirt is okay, but... dry, clean pants would be awesome!"

The younger of the two smiles brilliantly, "Wet trousers are no fun at all!" She starts laying out the clothes. They're both trying not to stare at Cinnamon. But the stares aren't of the derisive sort. They're of the 'How awesome is she?!' sort.

Cinnamon mutters in agreement, "You're telling me -- it's like trying to wear soggy dough or something!" Cinnamon isn't quite knowledgeable to realize she's impressing the sidhe girls, rather than their being derisive. Mostly she's just incredibly glad they're hiding any amusement so well! She's still attempting to get the clammy, clingy jeans off now. She finally gives up and simply strains to peel them off, leaving the soggy, partially inside-out pile of jeans in a heap while she hastily wriggles into the pants. Praying internally that they're not either way too short or way too narrow, she shyly turns her back on the sidhe and pulls them up, then tries tying the drawstring. She'd rather find out on her own that she's too wide for them, if she in fact is.

The pants are actually quite roomy. If anything, Cinnamon is going to have to roll the hems of them up to wear them without stepping on them. One of the girls says shyly, "We didn't have time to alter them. Alric is taller than you."

Cinnamon sighs in huge relief! As she turns around, having successfully tied the drawstring, her smile is still brilliant with that relief, "Oh, these are fantastic -- thank you so much!" Glancing around, she sits on a nearby bench and starts rolling up the cuffs, "Is it, um, okay if I take a minute more here? To tidy up a bit?"

The girls are actually tidying things up themselves -- putting the towels in stacks, starting to clean around the tubs. The one that just spoke smiles back, "Oh, it's absolutely fine! Lady Athala wanted us to make sure you were OK... and to ask if you'd like to have your pants laundered and mended and sent back?"

Cinnamon blinks at the girls in confusion, pushing her glasses back into place, "L-laundered and... mended? Oh, uh, I... wow, I... wouldn't want to put anyone out that much...?" She has no idea how to politely ask how much that would cost, so she sort of blurts it out, "I, er, I... I don't have much money on me right now -- I'm sorry!"

The girls both look surprised. They look at one another and then at Cinnamon, "Money? Why would you have to pay for that? You just helped save our lives! It would be the depths of rudeness to expect you to give us money for so small a gesture!"

Cinnamon blinks again, looking confused, "I, er, but I... umm..." She pauses, yanking her thoughts together ferociously! Okay, think, think! This is... this is like, um... a presentation! Right, okay -- what to do when standing up in front of a bunch of folks and talking about numbers, and they say good job? Ah! Thank them -- don't say anything else! Especially don't talk down your own efforts... okay! Got it. She sighs in relief, then straightens and smiles at the two girls, "Thank you! You're very kind." Whew... okay! That should do it... even if she does have a huge instinct to tell them it's stupid and not important and not to bother with her.

After that Cinnamon carefully doesn't say a word as the two girls take the bullet-ripped shirt and the trap-torn jeans -- just smiles brightly, nods any time they look at her while doing so, and prays this is the right answer. Once they've left she grips her backpack in one hand... then whews hugely! A few seconds later she's standing outside the bathroom, leaning a bit wearily against the smooth wooden wall as she smiles up at Shane, "Okay... I'm good, I think... and I think I managed not to do or say anything too rude, too!"

Shane grins, eyes twinkling for a moment, "Cinnamon, right now you could tell them all to pog do thoin and they'd gladly do it. Quit thinking you aren't worth it." He slings an arm around her shoulders for a squeeze before starting back toward the glade.

Cinnamon giggles tiredly! -then curiously asks, as she's trudging along next to Shane, "What's poggo thoning?"

Shane lowers his head and his voice, "Irish. Means 'kiss your ass.'" He's hoping to make her giggle again. She's had a rough day.

Cinnamon blinks startledly -- and then another giggle escapes her! Her hushed voice is both shocked and deeply amused, "Oh my god, Shane, I -- I couldn't ask that! I wouldn't!" She glances around as she laughs quietly, then teases back a little, "Do you, uhmm... often ask people to do that, yourself?!"

Shane laughs and pats her on the shoulder, "You've heard that term, right? 'Kiss my ass'? No, it's not something I ask people to do. It's a way of saying 'go to hell,' essentially." He's glad he got her to giggle.

Cinnamon grins shyly, "I know... I was just, er, teasing a little." Despite being tired and a little embarrassed, she's also feeling oddly happy -- this has been a relatively good day so far! Though... oh! "Hey, um, Shane? You... don't think that maybe Jaeger mentioned what he did about not getting his council seat back... because he thought that was why we helped him?"

Shane shakes his head and smiles, "Go ahead and tease. It's good to feel comfortable enough to tease your friends. I think he said it because he wants it back." Just about then is when they get back to the glade.

Cinnamon nods in relief -- then smiles as she spots Thorn and the sidhe, "Hello, everyone! Ms. Athala, thank you so much for -- for the, um, clothing and washing and repair?" She sighs happily, "Much nicer now!" She grins shyly at Jaeger as she adds, "Mr. Jaeger, just to be sure? I, um, shared the healing idea with Thorn because I wanted you to be well! -- not because of anything with the Council, okay? And... well, I can't speak for Thorn, but I'm willing to bet he just wanted you healed too?"

Jaeger stands and walks over, offering Cinnamon his hands, "And I want the seat back because I would like to add to the voices of sanity." He turns to Thorn, "As for you, I owe you a boon, young man."

Cinnamon smiles uncertainly as she accepts the sidhe's hands, "Oh... well, good, then!"

Thorn reacts to Jaeger's statement, that the sidhe owes him a boon, with concealed but all due distress. One does not simply exist in a world for any length of time when a fae owes you anything! The only thing more dangerous than fae owing you a boon is you owing the fae a boon! He's grateful he could help Jaeger, but he has to think fast and not let this simmer; it'd be better for the both of them to discharge the boon as quickly and to each others' satisfaction as possible. He bows his head to Jaeger. "You honor me, Sir," he says. "I was merely doing aught that I could do for you."

Jaeger looks at Thorn, face inscrutable, "And it is more than many would or could do."

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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