Cold Iron, Hot Potato (7/7) - Igrainne
Jul 8, 2021 17:50:58 GMT
Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed and Ian like this
Post by Igrainne (RETIRED) on Jul 8, 2021 17:50:58 GMT
It had been...quite a day for Igrainne. It started with Heret, Jacinta, Bones, and Veridian kindly answering her call for help at the Hung Rabbit, and from there they went to Sigil, the City of Doors, through the Angelbark portal. Lady Vermillion was cordial, as always, though for a reason she couldn’t quite put a finger on, she’d always found the middle-aged yuan-ti woman intimidating.
Lady Vermillion’s contact turned out to be an efreeti smith, one slimy bastard named Jakarth. Jakarth could coat weapons in cold iron as Igrainne sought, but in exchange, they would have to steal a phoenix egg from the City of Brass for him. To eat, as a delicacy. Understandably, Bones (whom Jakarth leered at lasciviously) had moral objections to that. And thus, they decided to conduct a heist on the efreeti’s workshop instead.
It was, by all accounts, a success. They got away with more than a few scratches (courtesy of an arcane dreadnought), several cold iron ingots, instructions on how to work the alloy, and an assortment of valuable gems. The workshop was tragically consumed in an inferno. Igrainne slipped Lady V. a small bribe of 2,000 gold pieces to keep quiet about each member of the party’s personal information — at least, until someone with a higher bid comes along. But given the massive losses Jakarth suffered today, that would not be until a while has passed.
So, mission accomplished. She and her friends should be safe for the time being. However, there was a queasiness in the pit of her stomach as she dwelled on the fact that there is now yet another person who’s pissed off at her. As Jacinta had pointed out, there seemed, troublingly, to be a lot of such people. And she’s not even lived to see twenty-two winters. She felt the need to take Heret’s advice to learn from the past. Maybe change some things, too.
There was nothing she could do to mollify Jakarth, and she suspected she would never want to, anyway. But there was one person right then and there in Lady Vermillion’s pavilion that she could make peace with...
Igrainne found Amaunet in the dining room, dutifully cleaning the silverware. The scantily-clad, red-haired succubus had recognised her earlier today as she served tea to the Lady’s guests. She had not forgotten the incident during the K’ul Goran-Avernus war where she was kidnapped by a party of adventurers in order to stage a conflict between her master, the demon lord Bal’taz’narr, and Avernus. (And also polymorphed into a badger, but that’s beside the point.) It happened to be that Igrainne was part of that same party of adventurers.
As was revealed to her earlier today, Amaunet was unable to return to the Abyss due to being branded a traitor, and had ended up as Lady Vermillion’s maidservant. The pavilion was the safest place the demon could be in.
She scooted closer to the other woman hesitantly and gave a weak greeting, and only received a perfectly arched brow in response. In a hard-fought effort to not ogle, she kept her eyes laser-focused on Amaunet’s face.
“Sooo I've made too many enemies and I thought I should start making amends, starting with you! So, erm, can I make it up to you somehow?”
“Well, you could die in a fire, you and your friends. Or maybe get eaten alive by a host of beetles! I might settle for a slit throat though, we all have to make do…” Igrainne deflated with each sentence that came out of her mouth.
“Er…do you have something more practical in mind? That doesn’t involve bodily harm?” the ranger half-asked, half-pleaded. “…I can take you camping…?”
“I detest the outdoors! No proper facilities. And the flies! Critters everywhere! Thanks but no thanks.” Amaunet busied herself with polishing the silverware for a while in silence, before throwing Igrainne another sideways glance. “Well, there is one thing you could do. You could...assassinate Bal’taz’narr? Maybe? In the Abyss of course, so he doesnt come back?” The succubus returned to her task, polishing with grim determination. “No, that's foolish, of course. No one could do that. He is simply too powerful…”
Igrainne rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Y’know, in the long run, that could be a good idea. He probably has it in for us, too. But I can’t do that right now. Can’t you pledge fealty to another demon lord that could give you protection? Demogorgon, Graz’zt…Lolth?”
“Didn’t I just tell you I hate critters? No Lolth for me, thanks for nothing! Demogorgon is just too ugly...Not my type, you know? And Graz'zt, well girl, you will understand me if I tell you that we have history that is better left alone? Plus, how would that look if I went running back to my ex? No, that simply won't do!”
“Okaaay…Guess that’s out of the question,” the half-drow mumbled. This lady is one tough customer, she thought.
Then, as if a lantern inside her head spontaneously lit up, she said, “Hey, you said you were bored, right? How about you take a holiday trip to the Dawnlands, in the Material Plane? Spa day or somethin’? My treat.”
Amaunet considered this for a moment, pursing her luscious lips. “A weekend city-hopping trip...That could be fun, actually. See the sites, eat in a nice restaurant, enjoy a spa treatment…” Her eyes glazed over as she imagined various earthly delights, then turned back to Igrainne. “You would do that for me? Act as my guide and bodyguard? Prevent all harm from befalling me?” Her deep dark eyes twinkled. “I wouldn't say that would make us even, but it would go a long way to clear the air between us…”
She ran a long finger from Igrainne’s hand and up her arm, smiling suggestively. The heat was flaring furiously in the young woman’s cheeks and she squirmed away from her touch. “Yeah, why not! Sounds fun,” she squeaked out. “As long as you promise not to maim any mortals, okay?”
Amaunet pouted. “You are no fun! But fine, I will find some other ways to enjoy myself. As long as you keep me safe, from Bal'taz'narr and his floozies, or otherwise.” She extended her perfectly manicured hand. “Do we have a deal then?”
Igrainne flashed her a nervous, lopsided grin and shook her hand. “Deal!” she proclaimed in Abyssal.
A warm smile blossomed on the succubus’s face. “Excellent! Let me check with the Lady when it might be a good time to go. How exciting! I will have to make plans for what to do. Daring Heights — crossing that off my bucket list very soon!” She giggled and returned to the silverware.
“Oh dear…” Igrainne murmured to herself as she walked out of the room, the nervous smile frozen on her face. I hope this isn’t a mistake.
Lady Vermillion’s contact turned out to be an efreeti smith, one slimy bastard named Jakarth. Jakarth could coat weapons in cold iron as Igrainne sought, but in exchange, they would have to steal a phoenix egg from the City of Brass for him. To eat, as a delicacy. Understandably, Bones (whom Jakarth leered at lasciviously) had moral objections to that. And thus, they decided to conduct a heist on the efreeti’s workshop instead.
It was, by all accounts, a success. They got away with more than a few scratches (courtesy of an arcane dreadnought), several cold iron ingots, instructions on how to work the alloy, and an assortment of valuable gems. The workshop was tragically consumed in an inferno. Igrainne slipped Lady V. a small bribe of 2,000 gold pieces to keep quiet about each member of the party’s personal information — at least, until someone with a higher bid comes along. But given the massive losses Jakarth suffered today, that would not be until a while has passed.
So, mission accomplished. She and her friends should be safe for the time being. However, there was a queasiness in the pit of her stomach as she dwelled on the fact that there is now yet another person who’s pissed off at her. As Jacinta had pointed out, there seemed, troublingly, to be a lot of such people. And she’s not even lived to see twenty-two winters. She felt the need to take Heret’s advice to learn from the past. Maybe change some things, too.
There was nothing she could do to mollify Jakarth, and she suspected she would never want to, anyway. But there was one person right then and there in Lady Vermillion’s pavilion that she could make peace with...
Igrainne found Amaunet in the dining room, dutifully cleaning the silverware. The scantily-clad, red-haired succubus had recognised her earlier today as she served tea to the Lady’s guests. She had not forgotten the incident during the K’ul Goran-Avernus war where she was kidnapped by a party of adventurers in order to stage a conflict between her master, the demon lord Bal’taz’narr, and Avernus. (And also polymorphed into a badger, but that’s beside the point.) It happened to be that Igrainne was part of that same party of adventurers.
As was revealed to her earlier today, Amaunet was unable to return to the Abyss due to being branded a traitor, and had ended up as Lady Vermillion’s maidservant. The pavilion was the safest place the demon could be in.
She scooted closer to the other woman hesitantly and gave a weak greeting, and only received a perfectly arched brow in response. In a hard-fought effort to not ogle, she kept her eyes laser-focused on Amaunet’s face.
“Sooo I've made too many enemies and I thought I should start making amends, starting with you! So, erm, can I make it up to you somehow?”
“Well, you could die in a fire, you and your friends. Or maybe get eaten alive by a host of beetles! I might settle for a slit throat though, we all have to make do…” Igrainne deflated with each sentence that came out of her mouth.
“Er…do you have something more practical in mind? That doesn’t involve bodily harm?” the ranger half-asked, half-pleaded. “…I can take you camping…?”
“I detest the outdoors! No proper facilities. And the flies! Critters everywhere! Thanks but no thanks.” Amaunet busied herself with polishing the silverware for a while in silence, before throwing Igrainne another sideways glance. “Well, there is one thing you could do. You could...assassinate Bal’taz’narr? Maybe? In the Abyss of course, so he doesnt come back?” The succubus returned to her task, polishing with grim determination. “No, that's foolish, of course. No one could do that. He is simply too powerful…”
Igrainne rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Y’know, in the long run, that could be a good idea. He probably has it in for us, too. But I can’t do that right now. Can’t you pledge fealty to another demon lord that could give you protection? Demogorgon, Graz’zt…Lolth?”
“Didn’t I just tell you I hate critters? No Lolth for me, thanks for nothing! Demogorgon is just too ugly...Not my type, you know? And Graz'zt, well girl, you will understand me if I tell you that we have history that is better left alone? Plus, how would that look if I went running back to my ex? No, that simply won't do!”
“Okaaay…Guess that’s out of the question,” the half-drow mumbled. This lady is one tough customer, she thought.
Then, as if a lantern inside her head spontaneously lit up, she said, “Hey, you said you were bored, right? How about you take a holiday trip to the Dawnlands, in the Material Plane? Spa day or somethin’? My treat.”
Amaunet considered this for a moment, pursing her luscious lips. “A weekend city-hopping trip...That could be fun, actually. See the sites, eat in a nice restaurant, enjoy a spa treatment…” Her eyes glazed over as she imagined various earthly delights, then turned back to Igrainne. “You would do that for me? Act as my guide and bodyguard? Prevent all harm from befalling me?” Her deep dark eyes twinkled. “I wouldn't say that would make us even, but it would go a long way to clear the air between us…”
She ran a long finger from Igrainne’s hand and up her arm, smiling suggestively. The heat was flaring furiously in the young woman’s cheeks and she squirmed away from her touch. “Yeah, why not! Sounds fun,” she squeaked out. “As long as you promise not to maim any mortals, okay?”
Amaunet pouted. “You are no fun! But fine, I will find some other ways to enjoy myself. As long as you keep me safe, from Bal'taz'narr and his floozies, or otherwise.” She extended her perfectly manicured hand. “Do we have a deal then?”
Igrainne flashed her a nervous, lopsided grin and shook her hand. “Deal!” she proclaimed in Abyssal.
A warm smile blossomed on the succubus’s face. “Excellent! Let me check with the Lady when it might be a good time to go. How exciting! I will have to make plans for what to do. Daring Heights — crossing that off my bucket list very soon!” She giggled and returned to the silverware.
“Oh dear…” Igrainne murmured to herself as she walked out of the room, the nervous smile frozen on her face. I hope this isn’t a mistake.
