Down the Bloodied Briar Path - IC

Faerie is a strange place. This is true everywhere, but nowhere so much as where a Court gathers. The presence of a faerie Queen only heightens the effect, so much so that ripples of change from this particular Court assembly can be felt and seen for miles and miles around. Nowhere else is the effect so prominent than in the area surrounding the hall where Titania holds court however; the hall is a newly-wrought thing of massive roots twisting up from the earth in a dome that rises up and up to rival the tallest trees, the simple, solid shape refined with a myriad balconies and terraces, each bursting with plant life in every color imaginable.

The area surrounding the Court's hall is no less impressive, with dozens of smaller root structures spiraling up into the sky, but you have little means to appreciate them just yet. The awe of Titania's presence has not yet waned, your minds still filled with visions of her unearthly, indescribable beauty as you stand in the open space between structures. Other fey lords were present too, of course, and some were very nearly as stunning as the Queen, but Titania's presence is such that no mortal could look upon her and remember anything but her. Her, and her words, impressed upon you not so much as a memory of her voice, but a tugging at your mind, a feeling of being compelled to see her wishes done no matter the cost.

Titania's influence fades slowly, though with the odd nature of Faerie you have no way of knowing quite how long has passed since your audience. In truth, you cannot remember much, aside from being thrown together with others who came to serve the Seelie Court in its time of need. Not all of those who gathered with you still remain, however; of the dozens who stood awestruck before the Queen, only four remain in your little group, a disprate lot with powers as varied as the reasons they came to serve.

Shaking the remains of the fog from your minds, you notice a fifth standing nearby, lounging against the irregularly twisted root side of a Court-crafted building. The fey is more-or-less shaped like a human man in his prime, though a pair of branchlike antlers sprout from his head, and in place of hair he possesses a flowing mane of vibrantly green leaves that flows to his shoulders. He wears a rosy, loose robe, though the upper half of the robe is all but completely shredded by the long thorns sprouting from his arms.

"Ah," the fey says, his gnarled face becoming even more creased as he smiles deeply. "Titania's influence fades at last. That is well. I thought I might need resort to drastic practices if you did not wake from your stupor soon." He pauses, idly twirling an empty hand, and a twisted staff of brambles appears in his grasp. He makes a tiny motion with the staff and one of the roots from the wall abruptly sprouts another, smaller root, which curls itself into a passable facsimile of throne's seat hanging in midair. He sits down, staff disappearing as he folds his hands over his waist and regards you with an amused expression.

"You have the look of those thrown to the beasts with no explanation as to why or how you are to face them. Do you understand the import of the task set you? Do you even know your companions yet? By all means, take the time to learn of one another. I suspect this will prove every bit as amusing as watching the rest of the Court bicker about what is to be done..." His voice trails off at the end, eyes flicking toward the hall where the Court is yet, presumably, still assembled. His expression grows more amused still as he turns his attention back to you, idly leaning back against his 'throne'.

Lothar Grimm

The first in the group to speak is a man with the look of a knight that had been lost in the wilderness for months. His heavy plate armor is tarnished yet well-maintained, but it's missing gauntlets, boots (he wears a comfortable-looking fur pair), and a helm. His only visible weapon is an unstrung bow, though its limbs look thick and sturdy enough for it to serve as a melee weapon if needed. His shaggy hair and beard almost completely obscure his face, but it's still clear that Titania's influence has left him agitated. He introduces himself in a surprisingly civil manner, given his appearance.

"Well met. Ser Lothar Gr- ...no, that's not right. Just Lothar Grimm now. I'm searching for something very important to me, and our host claims to have had a vision that I'll find it here while helping her. A convenient coincidence, but I had nothing to gain from refusing her summons, and everything to lose." His voice has a slight growling sound to it. "And what of the rest of you? What are you here for?"

Turlough Boyle

The gleaming bands of iron are the first things to realize themselves of the next form, their essence of truth and law antithetical to the Faerie Queen's ever-changing nature. The rest of the man follows swift behind, a form clad in tattered purple robes and pale of skin. Boils and sores appear all over his skin, his brown hair long and gnarled. His nose hook, like a crow's beak, but his eyes bright and emerald green, shinning with hate. "Foul is the court of Fae/who in ever-shifting complexity/Do summon mortal eyes/yet offer no mortal remedy." The strange man turned to the others. "Turlough Boyle, Lord of Cold Iron." He fixed his eye on Lothar, knowing him to be kin in deed, and to be vassal of Cold Iron as he was. Yet Turlough said nothing of this, knowing others did not wear their allegiance so proudly.

"I'm here to put an end to these wicked warnings of war." The stout maiden huffs, wondering if her wordplay means she's spending too much time with Oberon and his hunting friends, or arguably not enough.

She's got bristly short flaxen hair apart from two thick plaits falling down either shoulder, a bronze band over her forehead while wearing a rather reserved looking canvas and cotton "dress" and "vest" of coppers and greens that seem... very heavy for some reason upon appearance. Like most of the others there's an odd quirk about her; her feet are bare, and her eyes seem ever so slightly too thick of pupil, not enough white, almost ursine.

"Saying that, though, won't do much. We need a decisive deed to begin our campaign. Like, imagine hunting down one of the other court's battle commanders. Someone who would be dearly missed, impairing future raids at our own court's expense."

Anyra

The last to speak is the lone fey among the group of humans. Her black hair matches the shade of her tattered wings. A winter wolf clad in black studded leather barding still naps next to her as she walks towards you, her gaze still shifting upwards at the structures of the hall.

"Ugh, did some potpourri elementals get loose in here?" She stops for a moment, sniffing her forearm "Fantastic, now I need a bath"

"But anyways, my name is Anyra. I will also answer to "fairy", "snowflake", or whatever other nicknames you want to give me, but the first person to ever refer to me as "the healer" will live to regret it."

Spoiler

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Legend Lore check (as the bard skill) to see if Anyra knows the names of any such individuals as Bianca is suggesting. Moreso than any random militant fey, she's trying to recall if she knows anyone with a penchant for dominating or tricking mortals.

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Bardic Knowledge

A bard may make a special bardic knowledge check with a bonus equal to his bard level + his Intelligence modifier to see whether he knows some relevant information about local notable people, legendary items, or noteworthy places. (If the bard has 5 or more ranks in Knowledge (history), he gains a +2 bonus on this check.)

A successful bardic knowledge check will not reveal the powers of a magic item but may give a hint as to its general function. A bard may not take 10 or take 20 on this check; this sort of knowledge is essentially random.

DC Type of Knowledge
10 Common, known by at least a substantial minority of the local population.
20 Uncommon but available, known by only a few people legends.
25 Obscure, known by few, hard to come by.
30 Extremely obscure, known by very few, possibly forgotten by most who once knew it, possibly known only by those who don’t understand the significance of the knowledge

Lothar Grimm

"The barefoot girl is right - opening with a decisive strike is our best chance. If they're reeling from one punch, it's that much easier to line up the next." The fingernails on his right hand elongate into shiny black claws, at least an inch long, as he casually scratches his beard with them.

"We'll need to plan our tactics first. To fight as a cohesive unit, we need to know each other's capabilities, but I can't tell what any of you do from looking at you. That might be something we can take advantage of." He holds out his clawed hand, flexing his fingers."These are cold iron, anathema to the fey." He tilts his head at Anrya. "That includes you, fairy, so mind your distance."

Anyra

" Oh come now, Lothar", Anyra replies as she slowly walks towards him. "In the circle of life, death always precedes rebirth. Before there can be the renewal of spring, the land must endure winter's embrace."

As she steps closer, Lothar feels as if he's been dropped into the arctic. The air around the fairy is supernaturally chilled... a biting cold that makes his joints ache and his lungs burn. (If he steps back a pace, he's instantly returned to warmth.) If he allows it, she delicately takes his cold iron claws into her leather-gloved hand and gives him a friendly handshake. "Nice to meet you."

As she steps back, the warmth of the room isntantly returns. "I myself am of the unseelie court. Disagreements between our two courts are matters for the fey. With no offense intended, bringing in outsiders like yourselves into the feywild to wage battle for us is a perversion of the natural order and bound to end poorly for both sides. I would aid you as I can to see this heresy undone, and afterwards hope to see these lands wholly the province of the fey once more.

To that end, I can heal your wounds and cure your ailments as needed. I am under no restriction against striking members of my own court, though I will note that all unseelie are as free as I. We do not blindly follow our queen and I will not support the murder of my kin without just cause, nor will I act in such a manner as is meant to bring more harm to my court than the ceasing of these attacks.

I am a hoarfrost fairy. I am made of winter's chill and though I am her servant, she also acts through me." To score her point she walks over to one of the flower covered root outcroppings and extends her palm. Wind and snow blasts out, freezing the plants solid and coating them with frost and rime. "I won't bore you further by detailing all of my abilities, but consider that most look like that."

Lothar Grimm

Lothar felt a slight chill, but no more than he typically felt wearing plate armor on a winter morning. The essence of a bound fey princess guarded him against the worst of Anyra's icy presence. He returned the handshake, gripping a little bit too hard as he ceased suppressing his own aura. The fairy seemed quick to step away - perhaps the taste of hopelessness was not to her liking.

Lothar's expression is hidden behind his tangled beard, but it's either a grin or a grimace. "A traitor to your own kind? Well, I suppose honor means about as much to a fairy as a pair of boots to a fish. At least we have one thing in common; we both want me out of this place as soon as possible!" He makes a sound that might have grown into a burst of laughter, had it not died somewhere in the back of his throat.

Spoiler

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Lothar's Iron Bands cause him to count as fey whenever it would be beneficial - like resisting Winter's Chill. He also has Chupoclops bound, which gives him an Aura of Despair that works perfectly fine on fey. :smalltongue:

Anyra

Anyra winces slightly as the Seikona squishes her hand. She feigns a smile back at him, "Charmed, truly. I can't wait for the adentures we have in store together."

She mutters "creep" under her breath as she turns her back to him and approaches some of the less menacing companions.

Such as the barefoot girl, who coughs.

"Bianca Beldawn, Knight to Lord Oberon by way of my paladinship unto Kord. Also, I am a werebear. But I am also curious..." she inclines her head down to Anrya.

"Please enlighten me. Why would one such as yourself want the war to end? Furthermore... does my idea offend you?" She asks with a tinge of curiosity, not offense, "Surely, some among your court have bred warfare and slaughter more wonton than others? A handful of souls so bloodthirsty, even their own kind would not be remiss to see Justice be done?"

Anyra


Anyra patiently responds to the werebear's questions. "This war is the wrong game played on the wrong board.

Imagine a King and Queen who hold celebration for the birth of their daughter and invite three nobles from the Seelie court and none from the Unseelie court. Two of them gift the child with beauty and song respectively, but before the third can grant her gift, a noble from the unseelie court appears uninvited. The seelie fey openly insult her while the guests watch on, and in retribution for this undeserved insult she chooses to curse the child that she might die upon reaching her 16th birthday by pricking her finger on the spindle of a sewing wheel. The third fairy gifts the child with a blessing to mute the effect of that curse, so that instead of death, she falls into a coma, sleeping until her true love should kiss her.

This is the way that our courts "war" with one another... we stake an interest in the same mortal and it is by influencing the fortune of that mortal for better or for worse that we "battle" with eachother.

This nonsense with bringing mercenaries into the feywild to directly assault the Seelie court is not so much "evil" as it is just not fey. Fey are of eternal spirit, and this war has a sense of finality about it that reeks of outside influence. Though the queen might be trying to direct the actions of the court, I cannot believe she is acting of her own mind in this. And again, there are differences between being aware of a thing and doing that thing. I highly doubt the queen is unaware of what is going on, but that it is guided by her hand is a deeper speculation.

As for offense, none is taken, by either you or Lothar. I cannot say I am interested in delivering justice upon anyone, but I am interested in seeing this war brought to an end and in that regard we are well aligned. I came here with the foreknowledge that as we uncover those responsible for this conflict that my hands may turn against members of my own court. I was merely noting, for understanding's sake, that free spiritedness is celebrated among the unseelie. Although certain nobles have more influence over the actions of individual fey than others, we are not members of a regimented army. You made a remark about commanders, and I was concerned that you might be viewing our court through a lens colored by the way that this one operates.

To Lothar's comments, it is true that I do not abide by a code of honor, nor does any unseelie I know. There are many... "virtues"... praised by the Seelie courts that are naught but traps to relieve an individual from the maintenance of free thought and an open mind. I join you not out of any sense of obligation or duty, but because I freely choose to do so. This quest serves my interests as much as it may yours. Does it mean I might betray you? The possibility exists, though I doubt with any more likelihood than someone who might claim to be honorable and then betray you anyways. With this last remar, she glances back at Lothar, though she doesn't hold her gaze on him long enough to convey if it was done intentionally or not.

Anyra

"Anyways, lest I talk all day, let us come to your idea. I do have a few fey in mind, though not necessarily for the same reasons as you suggest.

The first, and the fey I would most like to check on is Orrianne. There are fairies who take it upon themselves to guard the forces of nature against those mortals who would treat them with disrespect. In this, Orrianne is something of a kindred spirit. Where I guard the winter, she guards the darkness of night. She often demands a service from mortals she finds disrespecting it, compelling them to carry out one task or another in exchange for showing mercy upon them. I've always found her to have a good sense of humor and I doubt she is behind these attacks, but what troubles me is that I haven't seen her at court lately. She is of noble blood and her absence for such a long time is conspicuous. It's possible that in her interaction with mortals she stumbled across our culprit and some ill has befallen her. I would appreciate if it we can look into her absence for even if we don't find her, we might find some clues about the ones responsible.

We might also seek some guidance from Lady Sihel. She is well versed in enchantments herself, and very involved in the politics of the Unseelie court. She does think the Unseelie superior to the Seelie, but she is very far from a minority in holding this opinion. If someone's moved towards striking out against the Seelie court, it's very possible that she will be at least partially informed about who might be behind it.

The only possiblity I can think of for a fey who might be behind this themselves is Ralav. He was previously one of the more powerful members of the wild hunt, though now he stalks his own prey. He has some of the same powers as those striking out at the Seelie court, and he's been known to take insult easily. If the Seelie have done something to set him off recently, it is very possible that he could be behind this. He is definitely allied with the Unseelie, but as a former huntsman I don't know that he follows the same code (and as such, might have less hesitation about such direct assaults.)

As I said though, to me, this whole thing feels very non-fey like. I am not so blindly devoted to think that it couldn't happen, it just feels very out of character for our kind."

"Is it possible that someone among your court has merely...hired for lack of a better term brigands or rounded up monsters of varying skins who'll do the attacks things for them? " Bianca paces around the earthen floor, appearing as thoughtful as a Kordian Paladin can, and then some, "Because if this war-waging isn't in keeping with the Unseelie yet they're still doing it, then it sounds almost as if someone else is manipulating them, going on your word. And that is most troubling.


...

Still, I would say this Orrianne Lady and the Unseelie huntsman are both sound paths to start with; we would get the most direct results from seeking out either or both of them..."

Turlough

The old man merely shook his head at Anyra's talk of the differences between the fae. He knew they were all the same. Meddlers in the affairs of mortals, who cared not for the harm they would bring. "With respect to the Faeire Lords and Ladies, it would be, perhaps, a better idea for me to...not make myself known. Methinks they'll not take kindly to the trinkets I wear round my wrists, and should my involvement in this matter come to light, well. I'm sure you're familiar with how your court treats those who disrespect their Nobility. And I would dearly hate our mission to be jeopardized thusly." The Iron Bands clink against his boney arms at their mention, the power within recognizing when it is spoken of. Turlough grinned at Anyra. "Unless, of course, the young fae herself takes offense to them? It has been some time since I was hunted. A fine evening's chase, that was."

Anyra


"Some mortals are just as susceptible to their own greed as they are to enchantments. Some may be striking out at the Seelie as a result of magical compulsion, but others could just as easily be doing so for simple promise of gold or power.

For all their talk of truuuuue love, the Seelie court welcomes only children born to fey who can trace their lineage only to other fey. The unseelie have more diverse lineage, but that has left us without the same resistance to spells and magic that the Seelie enjoy. That, in turn, has made our court the preferred target when sorcerers are looking to meddle in fey affairs.

Regardless of whether these attacks are committed of free will, or influenced by some outside force, they need to be stopped. But I too am concerned about what exactly it means if an outside force is influencing this. Weakening or destroying the Seelie court could be the first step in a larger assault against the Feywyld as a whole.

While I may be well versed in the workings of the Unseelie court, truth be told I do not know too much about the attacks on yours apart from the fact that they've happened. Do you know of any common threads in these assaults? Were the victims any particular type of fey, or have the attacks occurred in any particular area?"

Anyra

As Anyra chats with the others, she occasionally tosses a curious glance at the horned man who first addressed them. She meant to ask him who he was and what his business was with them once they were done conversing.

As she awaits Bianca's reply, her jaw suddenly drops as a look of realization washes over her face. Her pale skin blushes a shade of icy blue as she slowly turns to look back at the seated figure. Her jaw still hangs open, but she can't manage to get any words out.

The weathered fey continues sitting on his throne of roots, amused expression never slipping as you talk amongst yourselves. If anything, his enjoyment of the discussion seems to grow by the word. He gives Anyra the tiniest of nods as she stares at him slack-jawed, but brushes past the event with an indifferent wave of his hand.

"Excuse the interruption, friends," he says, smiling. "I believe your companion has just had something of an epiphany. Very rude in the middle of a conversation, but, such is the way of things. Please, do continue."

Anyra

Anyra nods slowly in response to the man's request and turns back to face Bianca, finally managing to close her jaw, but still blushing.

A couple moments later, a large winter wolf clad in pristine studded leather barding,which had been unceremoniously napping away towards the edge of the room, startles awake and scrambles into a sitting position, doing its best to look noble as it perks its ears towards the party's conversation.

"Border fracases, mostly. No clear targets, nor intended victims of a battle-- nothing that seems planned. An actual leader doesn't stand out in this kind of fighting, hence why I asked about them... Really, it seems all random, but if our problems were just simple scrapes with each other, then I'd be someplace else on a more dire quest."

Bianca huffs, looking between the old man and the Unseelie as if a pressing secret was just shared, and she needed to know it.

Turlough

Turlough nodded. "More likely than simple random strikes, what we are seeing is a test. The Unseelie seeing what the Seelie will do. How the good Queen Titania will react. Judging if she is ready for an all-out war." He then turned to the fifth among them. "And is the good Queen ready for an all-out war, my mysterious Lord? It is Lord, isn't it?" Turlough trained his will upon the Fae, searching for some clue as to his identity.

Spoiler

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Well, since Anyra knows who he is, Turlough wants to know now too. Hopefully Arcana will reveal something to him.

Knowing-[roll0]

Anyra

Quote:

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Originally Posted by tonberryking

[COLOR="SeaGreen"]
Bianca huffs, looking between the old man and the Unseelie as if a pressing secret was just shared, and she needed to know it.

---

Anyra finally stops blushing and breaks into a sly grin "Oh, I would introduce you, but I think you know him already. Isn't he your sworn liege, King Oberon, Lord of the Summer Court, and bearer several other titles you probably know better than I?" She finishes the question with a sincere curtsey towards the King (or at least the fey she thinks is the king).

The seated fey lets out a booming laugh, doubling over the side of his throne in a fit of mirth that lasts the better part of a minute. When at last he composes himself, his gnarled features have smoothed to something youthful and genderless, though his body remains that of a man in his prime.

"You actually thought me Oberon?" he asks, barely-stifled laughter making his voice several octaves higher. "As if the knight would not know her own patron? As if Oberon could lend you the aid you need, bound as he is? Oh, you are all just priceless!"

He stands up, the root-throne shrinking back into the wall it sprang from, and beams down at you. There was no real motion of growth, but he now stands head and shoulders and then some above the tallest of you.

"Oberon. Ha!" he chortles. "That'll give the Court a laugh when I tell them. No, I am not Oberon, though I am an ally of the Seelie. Some call me Jack of the Court, others name me the Chameleon. I prefer my name, however: Erevan. I am not of Seelie, though I do prefer their company. As such, I am free to assist you in righting the imbalance that grows each day... within certain limitations, of course. Can't go meddling in mortal affairs willy nilly, after all. Still, if you require knowledge of certain matters, or transportation through the feywild, I would be pleased to assist you in the least inconvenient way possible that will still give me a laugh."

Anyra

Funnily enough, as much as she blushed earlier when she thought it was Oberon, she doesn't seem the least bit embarassed over this mistake. The winter wolf which had been sitting in polite attention rolls its eyes and returns to napping.

"Well met, Erevan. If you take payment in mirth, I trust I've paid our fare for today, and perhaps a bit extra?

You've heard our theories about what might be happening, do you have some guidance that you think best to share with us? And do you know where the most recent of these attacks took place?"

"You have indeed given amusement enough for my services for the present, my little turncoat," Erevan says. "Unfortunately, Auril guards the freedoms of her Court most jealously. It is beyond me to tell you precisely where any of those you mentioned earlier are at present, at least not without drawing the Winter Queen's attention. I would not look forward to matching wills with her just now, and so I fear you must remain unenlightened on that point.

"Still, there is some knowledge I can give you. I have met with Ralav only recently - quite by chance - and while I cannot say for certain that he acts willingly in this, his thralls have been amongst the mortals who raised iron against the Seelie. It seems certain that he does not act alone however, as his forces numbered only slightly greater than half in the skirmishes I know of. Large though his mortal army may be, it would be beyond even them to have acted against so many Seelie at once.

"As for where... my dear, this is Faerie. Where does not matter so much as why and how. If you desire it I will show you to the site of the last attack, but that seems somehow less productive than what our good Queen expects of you. Far better to be where the thralls will strike next, don't you think? And all you need do is ask the right question, too..."

Anyra

"Do you have any information about where they might strike next? Can you take us there once my companions are ready and have had opportunity to ask any questions they might have?"

Turlough

Turlough shook his head when Anyra asked the same question again. "Not where. Did you not listen to our dear host? Not where. Where does not matter." Turlough paced back and forth, thinking about how to ask the question. The goal was to intercept the next attack. To prevent them from achieving whatever the goal of the attack was. If he could get ahold of one of the soldiers, he could find the rest, Turlough knew that much. He snapped his fingers, and pointed at Erevan. "The question is what. Not where. Nor why, for you do not know that, or if you did you would not tell us. What specifically will the forces attacking the lands of the Seelie strike at next?"

Bianca rubs at her hair, looking a little mildly confused. "What? ...What're you about? They'd have to strike at something, be it land, a creek, or after some person. Eurgh. These semantics are making my hair bristle... Wait. I have something! Sir Erevan are you saying that..." she focuses her wits for a moment, trailing off. "There are plenty of places where Seelie borders with the mortal realm; I should know that. But mortals don't just take up arms and charge at the first thing you point them too, and to mind control --for instance-- a whole town would be easily noticed. Same if there was a cadre of mortal soldiers marching up and down the border. Someone ELSE would have noticed that too. Maybe we need to go to a border line where human-kind lives, where they are full of ire towards the Seelie. What easier way to get troops to your cause than by stirring up trouble where there already is some? If we go there, maybe we can find Ralav. OR answers...

Erevan chuckles at Anyra's directness, but he gives no answer aside from a slight inclining of his head in her direction. He appears thoughtful as Turlough and Bianca speak though, giving each a pleased smile in turn.

"You are not incorrect, Lady Knight, though I fear your deductions are for naught in this case. Ralav does not go to find more thralls this day, but to continue his attack in a more direct fashion. To you Lord Turlough, I can give little in the way of a direct answer. As I said, my meeting with Ralav was... happenstance. I know the where of it, and I will show you there, but the question of what is a matter for you to determine. Ralav can and will strike across the whole of Faerie if he sees fit, and so to move his forces to such a place..." Erevan drifts off, eyes growing unfocused as he looks toward an unseen point on the horizon.

"Where is no place important. How is irrelevant until you learn more. What, on the other hand... that is a question of the utmost import. I cannot say what you will find there when Ralav's forces arrive, nor how you may be forced to act to find the information you need. Still, Titania has placed the burden upon you, so it is yours to see done. If you have nothing more you need answered - for as much wisdom as my words may hold - then I will show you to the where when you are ready. Heed this warning however: Ralav intends to strike forcefully enough for all of Faerie to feel the repercussions. If you mean to meet them in battle, you would be wise to spend what time remains before they arrive turning the area to your favor."

Lothar

After remaining quiet for most of the conversation with Erevan, Lothar speaks up again. "Turning the area to our favor? Do you mean convincing those present to heed our protection, or rallying them in defense? Perhaps both, but either way it seems prudent to know as much as you can tell us about the thing we're protecting. Preparation is stronger than the sharpest swords and the hardest armor." He thumps his breastplate with a fist. "Fighting on land this suit will save my life, but fight on a ship and it could be the death of me."

"A ship? Not hardly. I should think you will find yourself far from that particular danger for some time yet," Erevan says, extending a hand to one side. The air in front of his fingers begins to shimmer in the fashion of a heat haze, intensifying with each passing moment. Colors bleed together and separate like water and oil, and when you can focus your eyes on the sight again, the scene has changed both location and perspective. Looking through the portal shows a bird's eye view of a clearing in a forest that could be nearly anywhere in Faerie, though the abundant, colorful vegetation in the area suggests somewhere closer to the Seelie than not. In fact, the only part of the clearing that stands out as odd is a tiny cabin, seemingly uninhabited, and entirely untouched by the vegetation. While the cabin is clearly weathered and hasn't been cared for in some time, not so much as a single blade of grass touches its edges, repelled by some unknown force.

"Ralav's forces will strike here first. There is naught to be found but a mortal structure built by some hapless wanderer brought to this realm years since, and yet he finds it of the greatest importance. None reside therein, yet built as it is on the very fringe of Seelie territory, there may well be wild fey about when you arrive, should you be of the mind to attract and befriend them. I do not know why Ralav believes this place to be worthy of such attention, but his intent was made quite clear in our brief... discussion. The matter of why is something you must find for yourselves, assuming you are set in your decision to defend this place."

Erevan draws his hand back, and the surface of the portal ripples like a still pond disturbed by a thrown rock, then abruptly fades away entirely. He gives you each a sharp look in turn, made somewhat more impressive by his currently great size. "You are set in this, are you not? Titania's realm will not be held together by those of weak will, and I would not send any except those wholly resolved to their task against Ralav."

Turlough laughed. "Erevan, Her Majesty has treated me with respect the many years I have dwelt in Faerie. Far more than those of the Unseelie have. It would be unseemly of me not to return that respect." The Lord of Iron bowed. In truth, he was less than thrilled at the idea of serving any Faerie. But, this went far and beyond respect. Perhaps this favor could be leveraged as debt at a later time. And having Queen Titania in his debt would be a marvelous thing indeed.

Lothar

"I'll swear no oaths to creatures of trickery, but know that I am already bound by my word. If aiding your Queen will bring me closer to completing my sworn duty, and I believe it shall, then consider it done."

Anyra

Anyra smirks at Erevan's question, "I wouldn't have travelled all this way, to this place in particular, if I didn't find these circumstances dire. I am ready to journey to this cottage as soon as you are ready to send us."

Kord and Oberon both gave me leave to these ends; I feel neither would give me a task I wasn't up to, and even if I was ill prepared I'll see this through anyway." Bianca huffs, shouldering both a pack with a large axe strapped to it, and an even larger shield. "Never doubt my determination."