Acension - the afterparty (S8 Finale Wrap-up)

Trying to balance his two desires:
1. Meet as many of the heroes of the dawnlands as possible. Thank them for helping to protect the innocents and being generally good eggs.
2. Getting the fuck out of the Feywild because his 3 visits have been states of war or apocalypse (or both) and in his anger he may have made a powerful enemy.

Lord Jaezred wanders around the grassy knoll, hands discreetly tucked behind his back. One hand is gripping the left arm tightly in an attempt to quell a burning phantom pain, though his neutral expression betrays no emotion. Soon enough, he spots Imryll Elamaris of the Witching Court. She speaks an inaudible word and motions in the air as she casts what Jaezred recognises as prestidigitation. His eyes follow her gaze and land on a group of three pixies, deep in whimsical conversation, as the liquid in one of the pixies' drinks jumps out suddenly onto another's face. 

With an arched brow, he approaches the spring eladrin. "So it was you indeed who pulled those devious pranks on the revelers at Fort Ettin," he says.

Imryll turns around to regard him and flashes a playful grin. "Oh come now, do you really think 'devious' is the word? 'Mildly amusing', perhaps?" She grabs a drink for herself and leads Jaezred away from what is quickly turning into a full-on, alcohol-based water fight between the pixies.

Once they are farther away, she speaks again, "So, tell me, what exciting endeavours have you been up to then? Considering you were all here on security detail, you really dropped the ball, you know..."

“Your ladyship do not give us enough credit. The fey monarchs would not have survived the night were it not for our efforts; should I remind you that most of your people fled like the cowards they are?” He smiles. “I nearly died for that crusty snowwoman Maureen, mind you. Fortunately, she was fair in her compensation.”

That makes her laugh out loud. "Careful now, go around saying things like that and she might just finish the job herself. Still, you really should work on that. You've more value in you to just waste on dying for someone 'crusty'. As for my people...I assure you we were keeping ourselves busy cleaning up the mess you let in." She nudges him in the ribs with a smirk, which elicits a wince as her elbow accidentally lands on a recently-healed wound.

“I have more value? Why, that must be the first compliment you’ve ever given me,” the drow replies in a slightly strained voice.

"Well, I don't know about a compliment...but who else am I going to poke fun at? Speaking of, I do hope for your sake Maureen gave you some talent, because I feel like a dance."

At that, the smug smile on his face morphs into something softer. Something genuine. “Well then, may I take you to the dance floor, my lady?”

He offers her his arm and she takes it, handing her drink to a random passer-by without a second look. The two elves glide towards the centre of the amphitheatre together and assume a position opposite each other just as the musicians begin a new song. He bows, she curtsies, and they begin the dance — a slow, intimate, couples' waltz, accompanied by gentle strings. On the steps of the amphitheatre, the archfey stand tall as always, watching over their subjects in silence. Nicnevin the Giantess seems to now stand tallest amongst them all.

“You must be quite pleased with the outcome,” Jaezred says.

"It is rather satisfying to see so many others finally realising what those of us in the Witching Court have known all along..." Imryll pauses a moment as their dance brings them closer to other revelers. When they are far from the crowd again, she continues, "But of course, you already knew that. So what's your stake in all this? Surely you didn't go through nearly dying just to have a dance with me?"

"Is it not yet apparent to you that I do not care about the fate of this blasted plane?" he murmurs. "I had no stake in this race. I was here for a well-paying job. That is all."

"Well, if that's the case, I'm sure there are plenty of well-paying jobs on another blasted plane...Tell me Lord Jaezred, what exactly is your stake in if not here?"

Jaezred realised too late that her last sentence was laced with the magic of a suggestion spell. He strains to keep his jaw shut, but the spell's effect seeps into him and forces the words out of his mouth: "I speak truly when I say I had no stake here. I merely wished to make sure that you are safe."

She smiles despite Jaezred's apparent tenseness now. "Aha, well... as you can see—" she takes one of his hands and slides it up the side of her body, tracing her figure "—I'm all in one piece...but I'm flattered you worried about me."

The drow mage's face is completely flushed red and he cannot meet her gaze. "Don't do that again," is all he manages to say. Nevertheless, his fingers curl appreciatively into her body as she guides his hand.

"It's...not terrible to see you're okay too, I guess..."

That last comment, he notes, was missing the usual playful tone. Finally, his gaze meets hers again. The eladrin hadn't taken her eyes off him even for a second. They look at each other for a long moment, before she quietly promises, "I won't." 

They continue dancing. He did not notice, until now, that the phantom pain in his left arm had faded away, probably some time ago. 

"Would you like to go somewhere more private after this?" he blurts out.

The smirk immediately returns to Imryll's face. "I'm sure we can find somewhere...private."

---

Thank you Anthony for roleplaying Imryll!

Levuka would be amazed by what she had seen and heard, she would stay for a few hours watching Imryll Elamaris waiting for a moment when she is not in conversation. Levuka would then approach Imryll and make awkward small talk (in Sylvan ) stating that she was happy to serve the Queen tonight and that she is pleased to see Queen Nicnevin, Lady of Copper and Crystal as the new Fey Ascendant. Levuka would then pluck up the courage to ask Imryll if she can help her to understand the riddle written in Sylvan on her mother’s staff.( note Levuka can read and speak Sylvan but cannot understand the riddle)

“that which falls may never break “

Imryll examines the staff , stops for a moment in thought and then cups her hand and whispers in Sylvan into Levuka ear (Q seed for future player Hook).

Levuka would not rest in the Feywild but would return to the Dawnlands to DH

As the celebrations had finally begun in earnest, a corner in the amphitheatre was made gloomy not by the surroundings but by its latest resident. Wil Frozendagger, clad in his trademark black mantle but lacking the armour that he was fast becoming accustomed to wearing, was sat at a table with the Water Guardian by his side as ever. His brow furrowed as he scrawled notes in his journal, occasionally looking up to glance across the floor to find faces to put to names or to snatch alcohol from glasses with Shape Water, pouring the drinks directly into his mouth without any regard for how many he’d already had.

List of Favours

Miandra, the Queen of Ken and Cunning: aided in her ascension and saved her entire realm. OWES ME.

Mesikammen, the Bear King: saved his home and the citizens therein. WILL MOST LIKELY DO FAVOURS IF ASKED.

Wil caught glimpses of the two archfey as he once again gazed across the room. Where he knew he should be careful to implore favours from higher powers, Wil felt that he had enough bargaining power here to get places. As he pondered, another name, or face, or… something came to mind.

The Lady of Pain(?)/Silence(?)/Something: Destroyed sunflower bastards for her on behalf of Queen Morrinn, already compensated for but possibly may be able to wrangle something.

Wil cursed his inability to recall her exact title, only comforted by the fact that Sending should aim straight and true. He yanked another globule of wine from a glass as he saw a slender, devilish face that he could scarce forget, along with… was that Jaezred?! Wil had seen it all, the most drowish drow he’d ever seen showing an emotion other than contempt. Wil continued writing, cocking his head a little as he questioned his target’s taste in men.

Imryll, Scoundrel of the Witching Court: completed missions on her behalf. FUCKING OWES ME.

Jaezred, the Louse: presently banging(?) entangled with Imryll. Could compel to do spy work if sufficiently threatened/persuaded/compensated.

‘Scoundrel, really Frozendagger? That isn’t very charitable of you, now is it?’ An all too familiar voice echoed in Wil’s mind.

‘Shut it, you. She deserves it and I bet she knows. How dare she compel information from me like that.’

‘But you would do the same given half the chance. I believe your kind has a parable about pots and kettles that applies here. Not that it’s a bad thing of course, I’m glad that you’re finally playing the game. Get your hooks on people and then make them dance. Of course if you weren’t so stubborn you could just directly commandeer their minds, just like they do. Just as I do. Just as is your right.’

Wil silently ignored the drone of the aboleth as best he could, not wanting to hear their words. They were right of course; Wil was aware of how twisted this was, and yet he did not stop. This wasn’t for any ploys of power, this was for his family.

‘A shame. You could do far worse than annexing a piece of realm even in this offcut of the True Material. Maybe I should do it in your stead.’

‘Don’t you dare.’

‘I’m flattered that you trust so much in my abilities. What would they call me? The Dominus of Dread and Depths?’

Wil left the aboleth to their musings as he caught a glimpse of one strange yet familiar figure. It was Merla, the Daughter of Summer. Wil realised now that he wouldn’t have even recognised her if not for her proximity to Titania. Nothing about her was as he remembered. With her fey provenance as clear as day, could she even be called a halfling anymore? Wil remarked on his own appearance, his fingernails becoming longer, sharper and darker by the day, and his skin taking on a grey pallor as his blood thickened and darkened. His hair now had braids within and was far more well kempt and he now wore armour in his daily life. Would she even recognise him? Could he even be called human anymore?

SherylMerla, the Daughter of Summer: Old friend and ally. Might do favours if asked(?). Difficult.

“…I think I’m done.”

The Water Guardian, who until now was engaging in small talk with a couple of pixies, turned to her companion.

“Is it time then?” she pondered. “You’ve got this Wil.”

“Thanks.” Muttered Wil, as he made his way over to the contingent from the Winter Court. There were several stages for performers besides the main acts, and Wil set himself up at one of these. A man and his drum and the only way to get fey to pay attention for more than half a second. He began.

The first notes haunting notes came from his mouth in an odd foreign language, not Primordial or Deep Speech, but an ancient tongue long lost to time. He sang a song from an old memory, one passed to him from his father, which was passed from his father. He added a rhythmic tone with his drum as the song continued, a plaintive wail against the cacophony of the room. His black tears began to flow as the boy mourned. He mourned for a culture and livelihood that had been destroyed so many times. He mourned for the traditions that he was barely holding together, and he mourned for all the family he had lost. And he prayed that his mourning came across.

As his song ended he found himself in the austere and gracious applause of a small crowd of Winter Court denizens. Despite the odds, he had done it. Now that he had got them there, it was time to curry favour with them. Or so he thought.

“Frozendagger, was it?”

Standing before him was a statue of a centaur, with impeccable posture and an imperious demeanour about him. Every single part of him, from his head to his tail, was immaculately kempt with military precision, and his gaze pierced with the strength of a thousand arrows. His garb was very clearly of military make and accentuated the sheer power he gave off.

“Uh, yes… sir?” Wil implored.

“Captain Snowmane. Walk with me.”

“Uh, yes sir!”

Snowmane set off at a brisk pace with perfect poise, which Wil struggled to emulate in both speed and precision.

“It has been many a moon since I heard the tones of Old Illuskan, many more an entire verse. Do you know of what you sang, Frozendagger?”

“Admittedly little, sir, only that it was passed down in the family, sir.”

Snowmane huffed and gave a slight nod of approval. “You sang of your departed forebears, asking them to keep you safe.”

“Ha, figures…”

“Excuse me?” Snowmane paused and turned to Wil.

“Uh, that figures, sir. Ours is a proud family sir.”

“Very good.” Snowmane maintained his stern, even tone however Wil swore he saw a slight smile there. “Are any of them here?”

“Unfortunately not sir… most of them are departed, and the few I know left are missing-“

“And you are looking for them, yes?” Snowmane cut him off with a severe expression on his face.

“Of course, sir!”

“Good. This must become your sole focus. And should you require assistance in this matter you are to seek out Captain Kalas Snowmane of the Winter Court’s Peacekeepers, am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Wil affirmed.

“Very good. At ease then, and well met, Frozendagger.”

The proud centaur strode off, leaving Wil struggling to piece together exactly what just happened there. The Water Guardian manifested herself on his shoulder after a few moments.

“That went much better than expected.”

“You’re telling me…” Wil remarked, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. “Right, let’s find you an enlargement potion or something?”

“What?”

“You said you wanted to dance with me at some point, remember?” Wil replied, “There has to be someone that can do that around here.”

Amongst the din came an audible snap of fingers, which was followed by a blue aura surrounding the Water Guardian as she gradually expanded, flowing past Wil’s shoulder to the ground as she eventually grew to just slightly taller than Wil himself. He glanced in the direction where the snap came from and saw Captain Snowmane’s arm outstretched. Wil silently thanked his new ally before turning to his now appropriately sized companion.

“Shall we, then?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Wil took the Water Guardian and led her to the main dancefloor. Where they may have seemed an odd couple anywhere else, here in the Feywild the pair fitted right in. The two held each other close and begun to move in time with the music, and it soon became clear that Wil, while not completely useless could barely hold a candle to a literally fluid being.

“I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes.” Wil chuckled, earning himself a scowl from his dance partner.

“I don’t ‘put up’ with you. It has always been a pleasure to be by your side. Especially right now.”

“Are you sure about that? Even when I’m being my scary old self?”

The Water Guardian flashed a sly smile as she raised a hand to cup Wil’s chin. “My first prince was a leviathan. It’s almost adorable that you worry about that.”

The colour began to rise in Wil’s face and to the Water Guardian’s surprise it was much closer to a normal human hue than it had been as of late.

“W-well, I mean, that barely counts, that was just an egg! Besides, I’m dangerous in my own way-“

“So show me.” The Water Guardian cut him off, drawing ever closer to Wil. “Show me how dangerous you can be, my prince.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the plane they were, or maybe it was the feeling of having made some slight progress in his mission, but the apprehensions that normally plagued his mind all but melted away as the distance between the Ocean’s Devil and the Water Guardian became nothing as they passionately kissed in the eternal sunset of the Feywild.

Menace walks among the crowd of assembled fey notables, a winning smile plastered on his face and a glass in hand that never quiet empties. Always looking to make new "friends"; always ready to scope out every angle of unfair advantage; always ready for a deal.

"It was my singular honor to stand and fight by Queen Titania's side! Ever will I support her radiance."
...
"To be frank, I voted for Queen Morinn, her sense for order appealed to me, after all this upheaval."
...
"Of course I support Queen Nicnevin, greatest of all her peers! If ever there was a monarch with an appreciation for business, it is her."
...
"But let's keep this between us, shall we? The other queens mustn't know..."
...
"Now then my friend, as we have gotten so well acquainted, maybe you could help me? I am looking to strike a bargain: trading a song for peace of mind. Would you know anyone who might be interested?"