Everything So Far

[Captain Hesperus]

Llorn had trailed in the wake of the others, half-listening to their conversation that drifted between Tradestongue and the bird-like babble of the Spires. He only spoke when Heresh asked about his favored gems.


"Tiger's eyes and, yes, glass, blown is good. Although naturally dry sand is also a useful medium."


The rest of his time was taken up watching the rear. He didn't make it obvious, stopping at stalls to chat with merchants, especially the one selling fine quality cigars in their own humidor, sampling wares. But he constantly kept an awareness of what existed behind the ladies and gentlerat, and he never allowed his hand to stray too far from the weapons on his belt.

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - Keavney's Lounge, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


"I do not know," responds Lenore evenly, glancing around the room before her molten eyes settled on Urral.


"I had intended on making this stop relatively short, as there are leads I must follow. That said, there are some problems that are coming to the fore that may delay us, but for the moment, as I said, I do not know implicitly. Perhaps a few days, perhaps less,"


She raises her eyebrows.


"Unless there is anything else, I am tired, and I wish to relax,"

 

[Teh Frixz]

Lezekim Urral


"Do you wish company? I know I have promised to attend a...center of relaxation? Spa? With Heresh but I assume she is either in the markets or has begun grappling up the side of the spire in an attempt to see if she could be struck thrice by lightening with different materials in her hands. In either case, I am aimless here and shall return to the ship to await our departure."





Urral shrugs, tapping her armored foot against the group to produce a melodious pinging. The spire, not including the areas touched by the Light of Lezek, was so far a letdown. It held none of the promise of Vice that the Iron Tower held nor the rambunctious nature of the last spire she was in, whichever one that was. Perhaps she could find another arena but even that seemed far fetched. She'd have to consult with the Spirelings in any case.

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - Keavney's Lounge, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


The Olimak pauses briefly, blazing eyes searching Urral's face.


"If you would wish to join Morrikin, then I would suggest you wait until she is free. Currently, the Spireling is in the midst of her duties, perusing wares in either of the markets, though I am sure she may be soon in reaching the completion of such tasks,"


Lenore tilts her head.


"It is possibly you may search and find her, or return to the ship to have her arrive shortly,"

 

[Teh Frixz]

Urral


"Very well then." She stops speaking in Urd, the golden glow of her eye becoming less warm and quite harsh. "I shall return to my cabin. Send word if you wish to speak, I see there is nothing for me here"


Urral turns her back and prepares to leave.

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - Keavney's Lounge, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


Seeing the warning signs as clear as day, Lenore stifles a sigh.


"Of course, if you truly have nothing better to do, you are welcome to join me," replies the Captain evenly.


"Though I imagine that such a venture with Morrikin would have to wait. It would not do to overwash one's hair, would it?" she finishes dryly.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Lezekim Urral


There are rules and procedures for a reason. One of equal ascendency just doesn't simply announce a bathhouse trip and not extend the courtesy of an invitation, even one to decline, to a Scion of Pride.


While the gesture is a little late, the blow is significantly softened, Urral's wings settling down and her glow no longer the harsh blinding rage of the Highfather but instead the warm comfort of being confident in ones own abilities.


Urral, bringer of Light, turn back around with a smile on her face.


"Alas cousin, I cannot join you as you yourself have stated the very reason why it would be improper to accompany you. I fear my visage at the bath twice in so many hours would be too much for the serfs present. No, I must decline, for I am beholden to the same invitation with Heresh.


Perhaps at a later time we may find place to espouse our vice in relative comfort together. Enjoy your bath, I shall be in search of Heresh then"

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - Keavney's Lounge, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


With that same dry smile evident on her face, Lenore responds.


"I will,"


"And you, enjoy your time with the Spireling,"


With the niceties over with, the Captain begins her own jaunt to the bathhouse, hoping to finally be able to relax and enjoy herself in privacy.

 

[The Fuzz]

Heresh


Market, Perhaps Heading To The Upper Spire





Having completed the order for resupply, Heresh turns to Miles.


"Here we are, Doctor. Didn't order any tiger's eyes, but did get a selection of small glass bottles and vessels, and several kilos of powdered glass, with some coke and a crucible."


She signs off on the list, and folds it up with all of the order forms and tucks it away safely to be checked against the deliveries later. All receipts for the order are also signed and stamped.


"So, what's in the upper Spire that you're interested in? Back in Kaidans, the high levels contain the really frigging dangerous magnetics and air current labs, but I'm not sure where they keep those here."


The idea that Puddleglum might not have dangerous weapons labs doesn't even cross her mind.

 

[Grey]

The Marketplace





On your way out of the market, you espy what looks like a machine shop tucked away in one of the inner-wall rooms.


But the sign over the door, in neon, reads 'PULSE', and there definitely appears to be a bar in the back.


Most of the occupants are rats with their fur dyed vivid colours, in stripes and dots, dressed in work-stained overalls covered in hand-sewn patches. The human patrons are much the same, but their long hair sticks up from their heads in fins and spikes, dyed equally garish.


The Lounge





Lenore finds modest baths near the next set of stairs; an old fashioned affair of blue and white marble, mosaics of wind and water. The primly dressed rats and humans staffing it almost fall over themselves to be helpful.

 

[The Fuzz]

Heresh


Leaving the Market





Well now. That's different.





Leaving the market, Heresh pauses and looks inside, evaluating the machine shop. One side of her is coolly thinking alcohol and long spiked hair plus lathes. Dad would have words with these people.





The other side is thinking silly hair aside, these are the first technically minded people I've seen here. I could drink tea and natter about maglev cores!





She will actually pause and lean back, looking in.

 

[Grey]

"...fucking impractical, is what it is. Look, you just pick a location nice and isolated, right, and spin up a decently sized vortex over the drive fins. If we crack the wireless transferal..."


"...nd I arranged the coils in a tighter spiral to get better range in a smaller package. Problem is rate of fire."


"What if it was just burst-fire?"


"Yeah? Yeah, that's a goo-"


"...ly nice chrome! Could've gone with automatic sensory tuning, but I like the manual touch, you know? When I crank the tactility up it's an unmistakable gesture-"

 

[The Fuzz]

Heresh


Drifting Ever Closer





Ok, by this point Heresh has, almost without realising it, wafted to just inside the entrance and is looking around with curiosity, eavesdropping so hard they're going to need some gutters repaired. Who is speaking, and what language is it?

 

[ehmygirl]

Namia Shadowdancer/L'ámnia Silverlight


Heresh had paused and a look of pure joy and absolute bliss came over her face. For her part, Namia really wanted to go to the upper spires and shake things up but, she saw the expression on Heresh's face and she smiled. There was always tomorrow, if truth be told. She didn't have to go up today. Maybe it would be better if she waited a day anyway, had a good bath, put on a decent change of clothes and went up with an escort.


And this way she could explain to Lenore exactly what she intended to do. Infernals, she has noticed, don't always react well to sudden change in plans when they've not had a chance to decide for themselves if it was a good plan. Besides, there would be deliveries of food stuffs and she needed to make sure that it was all delivered, that it was correct and, most importantly, that she was given the quality stuff, and not the bad stuff.


"Heresh," she said quietly, pushing her friend into the door, "just go in. I think that we can all agree that, whichever makes you happy will also make us happy. Go."

 

[Teh Frixz]

Lezekim Urral


Very nearly dancing out the door, Urral exits the lounge. The fires of irritation having been effectively doused, she now had a goal. Veering around the various groups of rats, she heads towards the assumed location of Heresh, following the various lines on the tiles and signs on the walls.

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - The Lounge, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


"A private bath and steam, a jug of strawberry cider, and a serving of sugared violets to start with," dictates Lenore to the bath staff, already waiting to be led.

 

[DreamingofRoses]

Srikha


The Rustbucket


She skillfully maneuvers through the crowded tavern room and snags the empty seat that Macrus had claimed for them.


Srikha stares at Roland and then the barman blankly for a moment before recognition crosses her face. "Ale?" She drags out the word as one unfamiliar with it before repeating it with more certainty. "Ale. Sounds...odd," she spoke, tipping herself slightly over the counter so she can take a look where the barman is going before settling fully back into the seat. Her feet begin to tap with the rhythm of the rat-kin's drums, and her fingers follow suit on the top of the bar. She sneaks a look at the dancing people then back at Roland before shaking her head and forcing herself to be solidly still.


The thorn at the end of Roland's question catches her for a moment and she takes a sip of the drink, making a face at the taste. "Something similar. In the Wood-that-Thinks under the...Worldcap? Your word for it, I think. But there are many Clades and Hearths and Dens and Aeries where many 'Elementals' live. Of course, bloodthirsty and dishonorable as they are they could not live in peace.


"War, not bandits, and not all dead," she trails a finger in the water formed by the outside of the cup, "but gone all the same." Her face hardens from sad to stoic with the slightest hint of pissed-off creasing the lines between her eyebrows and at the edge of her eyes. "Their own time will come." She glares into the glass of ale for a moment before downing the rest of it and struggling to calm herself once more. "No happy ending for me, either, Stone-face." Srikha sighs and scrubs her face with the palm of her hand before calling the bartender for another glass. "My apologies, Roland."

 

[Blackadder]

Roland Macrus


Roland showed no sign of offense. "It's fine. You offered your ear to me, only fair." The mercenary took a smooth pull of the ale. "Hmmph," he half chuckled, half mused, "something for half the crew to learn. Our charming doctor, he knows it well enough. Heresh, no sad tales to my knowing, but she recognizes there's more than 'They lived happily ever after.' The lass... still waking up all this time. Our Infernal comrades? Rough and toughened, but both of them still see themselves at heart - top of the world, their given right. Colby..."


Roland had to just laugh with limited humor. As kind and gracious a person could be - which said it all for the armorer's status in this assessment. And as for assessing, the man could tell the elemental wanted to freely move, but restrained herself. "Srikha? If you want to dance, just say so. I'll finish this, and we can take the floor."

 

[DreamingofRoses]

Srikha


Her white eyes gaze thoughtfully at Macrus as she begins her second pint. She nods in agreement with him, throwing in a quick Creak curse and a roll of her eyes at the mention of the Infernals. An affectionate smile has taken the place of the unpleasantness from before, the mention of Mr. Colby just clearing out the edges of the bad mood.


She laughs, clapping her hands in delight at Roland's proposal. "I did not take you as a dancer!" She finishes the rest of her drink and stands once more, languidly, patiently waiting for Roland to finish his own drink. "Let us hope you are as agile on your feet as you are with your shortbow." This is directed at Roland, half tease and half challenge.

 

[PixelWitch]

Colby


The rat's whiskers twitched.


He extends a paw finger, and nudges the already toppling Heresh ever so gently into the machine shop.


Then innocently stands there. What? Me? Never!


He scuttles after her, eyeing the innards of the shop with glee.


The inhabitants with maybe a little less enthusiasm. Maybe because they reminded him of his youngest brother, Hubert.


He fails to suppress a shiver at the memory.


I am never letting that bollocks attempt to pierce my ears again. No matter how drunk I am.

 

[Grey]

The Baths





The staff comply quickly and efficiently. The bath is a touch on the small side you suppose it could be described as cozy. Just enough to room to stretch out, at least.


The Lower Market - Heresh & Colby





The speakers are mostly rats, with a few humans thrown in. The one talking about the tactility settings on their manatech arm is a rat with a shock of white fur standing up from the top of her head. A human and rat looking over a rifle in a vice... a trio of rats arguing about weather patterns and torque.,,


The shop is full of half-finished machines, more on the right hand side than the left, away from the bar. There's actually a crude painting of a dour-looking rat on a sheet of metal dangling from the ceiling at midpoint labelled 'you must be this sober to use the tools.'


No one seems drunk, though. Quite a profusion of stormtech being worked on here, but no enchanting spaces for post-construction.


The Lower Market - Everyone Else





Leaving Heresh and Colby here, and going up?


The Rustbucket





The locals are awed, but polite - or one would hope, since neither of you speaks the local dialect. They clap and cheer and play a quick reel, staring particularly at Srikha.

 

[The Fuzz]

Heresh


Decisively, Lower Market





Heresh turns to the others.


"I'll catch up to you folks later, then. I want to see which machines they have here which we don't have onboard."


Wandering on inside, Heresh will go up the bar, which will presumably be just under waist high for a short human like her.


Whoever's tending the bar will get a smile and a request.


"Excuse me, may I please have a pot of tea for myself and my friend here. I also wanted to ask, is there a fee for using the workshop?"


Who is tending the bar? Also, no enchanting spaces? Well, that sorta makes sense, the best enchanting spaces are high, isolated, and secured against blowback. There's a reason Heresh likes doing her enchanting onboard the Rose. Still....Heresh can feel magic in the room, right?

 

[Silvertongued]

Olimak Lenore - The Baths, Upper Spire, Puddleglum Spire


Joints cracked loudly as Lenore stretched her limbs, grunting softly with the crunch of release. The scalding heat of the bath soothed her muscles, a searing temperature that would likely be none too appreciated, or even tolerated, by the others of the crew.


The image of the Lezek slowly broiling herself a garish lobster red in an attempt to outstay her cousin passed through Lenore's head, eliciting a throaty chuckle from the Olimak.


She sipped at a frosted pitcher of strawberry cider, still kept refreshingly chilled despite clouds of steam. A sugared violet is next, gently dissolved on her tongue with a contented sigh. The woman rolls her neck from side to side, yawning languidly, arms and shoulders resting on the rim of the bath.


All in all, a fine way to relax.

 

[PixelWitch]

Ichabod


Is that a suspended cyclone bracer? A vertical pinioned crankshaft? Omigod, a charged barometric cell!


The rat gives off a small hysterical squeak, like someone had just trodden on his tail. He violently suppresses the urge to tug at Heresh's belt and point like an overgrown pup, squealing Looooook~!


"Tea? Yes, tea good," he gets up to speed, nodding profusely.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Lezekim Urral


With one perfectly measured footstep after another, Urral slowly began working her way down the Spire. There was a delightful feeling of business that seemed to increase as she made her way down the structure, one that reeked of a sort of Pride that differed from the golden bearings of the Upper class. This was a less distilled form of her Vice, all these House servants and merchant folk emitting Pride in their work. The old men behind polished wooden counters, simmering with unspoken delight at the edifice their hard work had built, young men taking a step back to observe the heavy load they bore up a hill, a group of weavers bragging over their goods on display.


Her singular eye was on a swivel, taking it all in. It was hard to describe the feeling but this was the essence of Lezek, a feeling that could only be compared to bathing in the summer sun on a hot day. The Spire itself was upsetting, the rats at least aware enough not to trod before her, but the pervasive feeling of Pride was helping to offset the fear of their filth.


Still, she'd not trod this place out of her armor.


Urral waves the anxiety off with a tilt of her nose upward and a slight ruffle or her wings. As if she was physically shaking off the feeling. The vacant space of her anxiety however, was quickly filled with that same sort of...how could she put it, champing? Or even better, a fidgeting sort of concupiscence she hadn't been able to shake since she'd arrived. Maybe she should blame the Olimak and the deceptive indulgence of gambling and her own biting failure at being able to fulfill her end of the bargin but it was more than likely a desire to give in to her Vice. She needed something beyond her morning rituals to display the awesome power of Lezek bestowed in her physical being. She needed to show off, to be praised and worshipped in the name of Lezek.


She needed a duel. Or at least a suitor that lasted more than a weeks time with his efforts.


A sudden change up in the pacing of her steps occurred as she began looking past the shallow Pride for any sort of infraction against her person. A worthy challenge to Lezek might, a lecherous glance from a capable rat, any sort of expectorate in her direction, anything to be used to make a scene.


The glowering face of Lenore soon appeared over her shoulder, matched on the other side by the depressingly optimistic face of Heresh. Urral almost gives in to tilting her head to get a better look at each one but instead continues her marching.


'Don't you dare start seeking confrontation. You will only cause problems for you and your House' the Lenore chides, bells jingling in annoying fashion. 'You are better than that. Return to the ship and await me there.'


'Orrrr be yourself.' The Heresh speaks up. 'Be yourself in the most non violent fashion possible. You obviously feel guilty about your bet, maybe try working on that to satisfy what you are feeling'


'Oh yes, have her become insulted by a slight from a potential suitor while neither you or I are present, brilliant plan' False Lenore adds


'Urral just needs to have fun, to express herself in a positive fashion. I know her just as much as you do!' Counters False Heresh.


Urral tilts her head back and forth as little as possible as she listens to the exchange between her imagined fascimiles of her companions, growing more frustrated as they prattled on inside her head.


Engrossed in their conversation, she banishes both of them from her mind as she shouts in the center of the clearing she had entered, complete with hands being thrown skyward and gauntlet being clenched.


"ENOUGH! I will be the one to live my life as I please. I know what to do! I know myself better than the pair of you do. I do not require your advice for everything!"


Urral pulls her helmet back on, somehow still magically able to avoid any strands of hair being tugged upon by the action and starts down the spire are a much more furious pace. The peons of be lower Spire will be far less engrossed in the Vice of Pride and more prone to being ignorant of her personage. She'd find relief down there!


Ignoring the sudden gasps and stares from the spirefolk around her, Urral starts with renewed speed downward.