"Too Close a Healing for Comfort" Log Date: 7/21/99 Log Cast: Tybio, Faanshi, Aine, StormBearer, Aztlan, Aztlan's Adept escort (NPC emitted by Aztlan), Polaris, MoonStalker, Naiadre, Eric, StormBearer's crow (NPC emitted by StormBearer), Dara, Jasmine, Phoebe Log Intro: In the city of Haven winter is often bitterly chill, with the damp of snow and freezing rain sinking into the bones and staying there until chased out again by the sunshine of spring. This winter is no exception, and as the new year approaches, frigid weather keeps the city in its grip. In the midst of it all, having learned that winter in Haven means a surge in the number of ailing Mongrels and other hapless individuals who escape the attentions of 'respectable' healers, Faanshi has begun a tentative quest -- to lend her power where it is needed. The problem she has, though, is how to do it without attracting the attention of those who can sense the activities of mages, especially in close proximity to Delphi... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Night (Dawnside) Date on Aether: Friday, December 26, 3904. Year on Earth: 1504 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waxing Gibbous Season: Winter Weather: Freezing Rain Temperature: Cold *==========================================================================* Main street crosses the Rialto, which is busy and bustling as you enter. The Rialto - Haven(#159RDJM) Reigning over the Rialto is the very heart of Haven: the Delphic Citadel. It dwarfs the other buildings, which cluster around it like so many children seeking a parent's protection. Day or night, rain or shine, its walls seem to glimmer with a light of their own, as if, over the centuries, the magic within had slowly permeated the entire structure. The main tower soars higher than the tallest tree, and each side tapers inward so that it resembles a giant obelisk. Four smaller towers stand at the four points of the compass, representing the unification of each race under Delphi's government. And here is where they all gather. The Rialto is the famed marketplace of Haven, full of shops, stalls, and brightly colored tents. The shouts of merchants, the haggling of patrons, the music of entertainers, and the laughter of children create a nigh-constant cacophony that assaults the senses. But the Rialto is nothing if not exciting, and crowds often gather here for important events and public addresses. (Note: 'places' are enabled here.) Contents: StormBearer Tybio Aine Nico Almeda's Stall Obvious Exits: Streets Delphic Citadel Tybio pauses, standing a bit away from the food vendors for a moment as they jeer him. Comments like "Mongrel plague" and "got what ya deserved skum" issuing freely as the young man coughs. Finaly he turns, sholders squaring as he tries to leave with some shred of dignaty. There are times when the amount of cloth involved with Varati fashion sense for women is a definite plus. Not many, but there are _some_, and times when chilling rain is falling down from the sky is one of them. With her sari wrapped close several times about her tall slender form, a tired-eyed Faanshi slips into the marketplace. Trotting at her heels, loyal despite the fact that he has nothing but fur between his skin and the cold precipitation, is her half-grown puppy. Tybio makes his way slowly tward the sother exit of the Market. His coughing continues continusly, any nearby might hear a deep rattling sound in his chest. As if to spite the cold rain, the young Mongrel seems to be brushing his arm across his brow to wipe sweat away.... Aine encounters the Varati trio before she can make it within Delphi's gates. The tensions between the group grow before finally, the Atlantean nods and allows herself to be led northwards along the streets. Aine travels along North, toward the Fairway. Aine has left. StormBearer quickly trots up to one of the sylvan food merchants, purchasing a bowl of soup and a mug with some unidentifiable liquid in it quickly. When he turns to go to a table, Tybio catches his eyes. He sets his food on a table and remains standing, watching for a moment. Faanshi does not like to go through the Rialto, not when it requires her to pass right under the collective gaze of Delphi in order to traverse the marketplace. But as it happens, this night, it's the quicket route back to Atesh-Gah. She is tired, she is wet, and she is cold, and maybe, just maybe, she can find that old Varati woman who doesn't begrudge selling her a small cup of kaffe, to make crossing the Rialto worth her while. Distracted as his mistress is, it is Kosha who espies the figure of Tybio, and the young dog whurfs softly, inquiringly at the familiar scent. He slows behind Faanshi, then abruptly yips and trots off in the young Mongrel's direction... and at last belatedly gains Faanshi's notice as she turns, startled at her pet's change of course. Tybio blinks slowly as he sees the dog...a small smile comes to his lips as he bends down to wait for it's aproach, "Wher's yer Statue lady pup?" he says in a voice horce from coughing. Kosha draws readily enough near to Tybio, but pauses as he reaches the lad, cocking his head and whining softly at the sound of that rasping voice. Close on the pup's heels, her silks darkened by the rain yet still a splash of color against the wet night, Faanshi materializes out of the darkness. Slim golden hands reach up to pull the sari doing double duty as a hood back a bit from her eyes, the only visible portion of her face, but also visibly concerned. "Kosha," comes the soft voice from behind her veil, "Kosha, wait... Tybio!" StormBearer blinks. Well, his attention is drawn away from the sick boy. Is that? Yes it is. It's Faanshi. Havn't seen her for a while. The crow however, having already noticed the veiled one, is intently watching in that direction. However, for now, the Herald doesn't say anything, he's intent to watch the two, until his help is needed or solicited. Aztlan steps from the gates of Delphi and into the Rialto. Aztlan has arrived. Tybio looks up quickly as the lady speaks, his eyes growing wide. This movment seems to toss the normaly nimbel little thief off balance so that he rolls onto his bum on the cold wet stones. With a smile forced, he says softly, "Statue lady." Early morning. Freezing Rain. Cold temperature. 'I *heart* Haven', definitely. Pulling a series of bundlesome cloaks around them, two figures emerge from the shadows of the Citadel, descending into the Rialto for some odd task or another. Must be another Delphite hazing ritual or something. Polaris makes his way south, toward Seaside. Polaris has left. Without hesitation, Faanshi drops down into a one-kneed kneel at Tybio's side, her right hand extended to him, green eyes wide and grave above her veil. "Tybio, you are ill," comes the quiet murmur from behind that concealing silken curtain. It is not a question, and it is delivered in tones that would, in a less gentle voice, be described as urgent. Kosha lingers at his young mistress's side, whining again in counterpoint to her words. "Will you allow me to help you?" Tybio blinks and grins slightly as he crosses his legs, "Naw, I ain't sick...just wana rest." though as if life wanted to point out his lie he starts to cough again, his dull eyes are ripped from the Statue as he looks down and covers his mouth... Sick people. Puppies. Healers. All this goes about inside StormBearers head as he quietly watches Tybio and Faanshi. Hurm. He's sick. Well, I sure Faanshi can help him. Aztlan and his Delphite Adept slip amongst the Rialto stalls, keeping to those with larger awnings as they traverse the early morning near-tundra, pausing here and there. Every so often, the Atlantean's gaze pauses on a particular person or two, his head tilting to the side, eyes narrowing slightly. There comes a subtle, restless stirring in the aether, rising up in response to the young Mongrel's hacking cough. Oblivious still to the Herald and his crow who have caught sight of her across the marketplace, Faanshi catches her breath behind her veil, conscious of the magic now pricking at her fingertips, trying to rein it in before it gets out of her control. _Can I touch him without releasing it?_ she worries to herself. Does she have an option? As Tybio loses himself in coughing, she lays a golden hand upon his shoulder and with an effort, she holds back her magic... mostly. Some of it leaks out into the Mongrel boy's system, warm and soothing against the chill of the rain. "You cannot rest here," she whispers, "or else you'll truly be sick. Please, Tybio, let... let me help you...!" Tybio slowly recovers from his coughing fit, he looks up slowly an says, "Street's where I belong Statue lady." He puts a hand down and starts pushing himself up off the wet ground. ...a stirring that is a Beacon to those who can feel such things. From a short distance away, two thickly robed figures straighten, their bodies turning almost simultaneously towards the unnatural brightening of an aura actively using magic. Atlantean eyes from beneath a layered, protective hood seek the source through the torchlit yet coldly soaked streets of the Rialto. The Delphites arn't the only ones who notice. Indeed, though the Herald trys to keep it hidden, the carefull eyed might notice that he also stiffens, though not in suprise. He has seen this happen with this particular girl far too many times to be suprised. MoonStalker lurks in the shadows. The two figures, outer kaftans soaked with the morning's downpour of rain glance to each other for a moment, and no words are exchanged between the two, but as one they begin to glide away from the vendor's protective stall, flowing towards the disturbance. Instinct guides Faanshi to place one arm just _so_, where Tybio might grasp it for support should he choose to. Her other hand lingers on his shoulder of its own accord, the magic in her system sullenly refusing to let her let go of him quite yet. A subtle tremor in her fingers, however, is the only sign of this, along with a catch in the voice behind the veil. "There are warmer, dryer places," she murmurs huskily to the lad beside her. "Do you have a better place to rest...?" Tybio uses the support you offer reluctantly to stand, seeming to be fading rather quickly in reserves though his eyes and voice are more clear, focused. He points up at a nearby building, "I live there Statue...wana se?" StormBearer cringes. Yay. Here come the Delphites. The Herald doesn't know what Faanshi's status is with Delphi, and he doesn't want to find out. In an effort to distract attention, he jumps up and quickly steps betweem the two groups, facing the Delphites. "Hey, How are you today good sirs?" Kosha wags his tail hopefully as Tybio gets up, staying quite near but well trained enough to stay out from underfoot. The young dog, however, sees the figures approaching before Faanshi does, and he lets out a small warning 'whff' of a noise. The maiden in the veil and sari only belatedly registers it; most of her attention is still on the ailing boy and trying to convince her fractious power not to surge out into him in a wave of unleashed mending. Still, though, it's more than enough for her to sense his weakness despite the clearing of his eyes. Not entirely convinced he'll make it off to that building by himself, she murmurs to Tybio, "I will go with you gladly..." And only then does she realize that Kosha had whurfed his quiet alert. Just a bit, she straightens. "Show me, my friend...?" Naiadre arrives right into the thick of the Rialto from the south. Naiadre has arrived. Tybios eyes fall to the puppy, and travle along it's gaze to see whats he's concerned about. Seeing nothing obvious he nods to the lady, "Yea...that way." he points to the north and looks up at her, "But ya gota climb up a drain pipe...yer no dressed fer that." Naiadre wanders up from the south, clad against the cold and rain with nothing more than her usual sari. Her arms swing wide and her head swivels about, taking in this and that, uncocnerned with the weather. Both Delphites are paused by the sudden presence of the Herald before them. The Adept stops, but the younger of the two continues in his even-paced pursuit. Behind Aztlan, the Adept remarks to StormBearer, "Well, good Herald, and how do your duties fare this morning?" The remaining tracker pauses, the eyes beneath his hood narrowing as he continues to try to get a fix on the strange emanations. Curse this weather and the bustling merchants setting up for their day's work. He is resolute, though, and continues to explore, his gaze never pausing in one place for too long. StormBearer nods quickly to the adept. "My Duties go well." but, hey, that guy's trying to escape. Well, we'll just have to make something up. Landing his hand on the younger Delphite's shoulder, "Jario? It's been too long? How have you been?" Eric steps from the gates of Delphi and into the Rialto. Eric has arrived. Not convinced, either, that _Tybio_ can go shimmying up a drainpipe right now, Faanshi glances bemusedly down at her sari-wrapped form, and quietly opts for the course any good Varati-bred woman would take when she wishes to prevent a male from doing something: surreptitious dissuasion. Fortunately, she still has truth on her side, too. "Are there no stairs?" she whispers to her companion, shivering a little as she lets out just enough of a tendril of her power to bolster his flagging strength... but even that little tendril stirs the aether again. "I am not sure... where I can leave my sari, lest it be stolen... and Kosha..." The puppy yips. From the depths of the Delphic Courtyard comes the cloak clad figure of the Provost of Haven. Eric strides forward quietly, trying to stay pretty much from the attention of others. The crow which normally takes its place upon StormBearer's shoulder suddenly alights into the air, flying about to lose any watching eyes before landing on Faanshi's shoulder. Not being particularly strong, StormBearer's grasp is enough to sucessfully halt Aztlan, who spins sharply, eyes flaring in the shadows of his hood for a moment before he lifts his head back to... study the Herald before him, the head within the confines of the hood tilting to the side. The Delphic Atlantean's lips move briefly, conveying a soft message to the Herald. Tybio blinks, "If yer gona strip fer me...we could go to the Song..." whatever he was going to say is interupted by a fit of coughing, dubbling him over. After a moment he starts to the South...walking very slowly. After a second on your shoulder, the crow talks into your ear, saying "Better leave, avoid Delphites..." Faanshi would blush hotly -- and point out as earnestly as possible that she _does_ have choli and silwar, perfectly acceptable public garments, on under those yards of blue cloth that encircle her -- but the distraction of a bird coming in for a landing on her shoulder is enough to distract her significantly. Between the crow's sudden arrival and the new fit of coughing that grips Tybio, she staggers, caught off guard. StormBearer is a Herald. He's faced everything from big nasty bird monster things to Pallid Warriors. He's not easy to get rid of. Plus, he's got his Herald's Immunity. "Jario! What are you talking about?! Don't you recognize me?" he says, his hand holding Aztlan in place. Naiadre seems intent on her singular mission...finding breakfast. Alas, when she draws near her favorite sushi vendor, there a sign hangs, proclaiming..."We will be closed due to a family emergency...Blahblah blah." Hungrier than ever, Naia turns from the closed stall and sweeps the Rialto's morning darkness...sniffing for food. Hre sushi... Aztlan An image of marine fragility and beauty, the Atlantean before you stands approximately six feet tall, his age somewhere in his middle-to-late twenties. Shimmering in the light is his skin, a dolphin's blue-grey toning and much the same smooth texture. The bluish-grey which is predominant among the back side of his body gently fades into a sandy white on his stomach. Eyes the color of kelp stare out at the world, reading depth and intent in every motion. His hair falls to his shoulder, its color a piercing red which contrasts the softer colors of his skin. His movements are lithe and graceful, save for the occasional awkward flinch most Atlanteans experience in the surface world. Brilliantly shimmering, near-translucent fins are positioned from the middles of his forearms, stretching back to his elbows and reach out around five inches from his skin. Similar fins are present on the backside of his calves, though not as long nor large. His hands are lightly webbed, also. He wears the robes of the Delphic Order, but the material is light and loose, contoured for the Atlantean who wears it. Wide sleeves give his arms plenty of range to move, and the hem of the robe is cut just so it does not drag on the ground. On the robe is the eye-design of a member of the Sibylla. The only other noticeable trait of the Atlantean is the two necklaces he wears: one tight around his neck of small shells, the other much looser, a complex weaving of kelp with an occasional shell woven into it. Tybio seems to have all his concentration centered on remaing upright, he drags his arm across his forhead as the coughing supsides...one foot infront of the other.... There are a few prior incidents in Faanshi's life where birds have done entirely unexpected things around her. This crow upon her shoulder therefore does not surpise her much, or for very long, though it startles Kosha immensely; the dog starts yipping in general bemusement at this creature that's come in for a landing on his mistress's shoulder. After a moment, Faanshi nods ever so slightly, seemingly at nothing, and hastens to catch up with Tybio. "Kosha, shhh, good dog, hush...!" As Faanshi starts walking, the crow makes a speedy return to StormBearer's shoulder. Diplomatic...not Magical, but that issue hasn't even been brought up. Aztlan, finding that trying to escape this crazed maniac is impossible, says softly, "I am not this...Jario...you seek, now, turn me loose, if you please." A glance is given to the Atlantean Adept, who stands behind StormBearer. The second robed figure slips away while the Herald is distracted distracting Aztlan and his crow is busy distracting Faanshi who is distracted by Tybios who is distracted by the thoughts of 'just what is under that robe'...or something like that. The Adept, much more attuned to the flow of Aether, begins the hunt again, seeking out the source...which has slowly begun to fade as time passes. Dara steps from the gates of Delphi and into the Rialto. Dara has arrived. Eric stops near the gates, glancing around, his hood half falling back. He glances at the closest cloth vendor and walks over beginning to look through the wares. StormBearer raises an eyebrow mockingly. "Are you sure? You look so much like Jario?" he says, still holding the shoulder, delaying for a bit more before shaking his head and turning away, crow on his shoulder. He quickly moves away, not following anyone despite the fact that he looks like he's following someone. Tybio walks out of the MArket slowly, shuffing along with Faanshi tward the south. Tybio makes his way south, toward Seaside. Tybio has left. At last, released by the arrogant Herald, Aztlan turns to try to find the source of the Aetherian disturbance once more, and realizing it's futile, ceases his pursuit. A look to his Adept, and the higher ranked one moves back to Aztlan's side. The two resume their gliding quietly. You make your way south, toward the road which, for obvious reasons, has been called Seaside. Seaside and North - Haven(#207RJ) Whether overcast or sunny; at the height of summer or the dead of winter, the ocean remains changeless. Changeless, and yet constantly changing, for its moods are many and varied--from a gentle expanse of cerulean blue to the oppressive glower of a storm on the rise. Yet the ocean was there since Haven was no more than a tiny fishing village clustered around Delphi's tower, and will remain long after that same tower has crumbled to dust. But although the ocean is impressive, it is only secondary to the main attraction near the intersection of Seaside and North. Jutting from the water is a structure shaped entirely from coral, stone and what appears to be a spire of a gigantic nautilus shell which centers as the main portion of the building--the embassy of the Atlantean people. It has no discernible windows or doors, and none of the symmetry inherent in man-made things, yet its beauty is indisputable. A delicate bridge spans the distance between the shore and the entrance into their territory, and visitors are allowed to come and go freely. Contents: Tybio Obvious exits: Streets The Rialto Korallion Tybio stumbles a little over one of the cracks in the pavment, he looks up to be sure that you are still with him before slumping to a seat on the road once more, breathing heavily and trying despratly not to cough. His flimsy clothing is soaked compleatly, so he sits shivering. For once, Faanshi takes advantage of her long young legs to lengthen her stride and catch up with her companion. Beside her, scampering determinedly, Kosha comes pelting out of the Rialto as well. Dog feet and maiden feet splash in puddles as they go, but the dampness is of little consequence to the shudra as she comes up to kneel anxiously beside you. "Tybio," she murmurs hoarsely, "where can I escort you...?" Tybios coughing subsides after a time, he looks up with once more dim eyes and blinks slowly, "Ain't got...nowhere Statue. Don' worry...Tybio takes care 'o himself." "You're ill," Faanshi insists softly, "I.. I can feel it." Both her hands come up, slender golden fingers splayed and ever so slightly shaking, though she does not yet yield to her power's demand to touch you. The shudra girl's mind races, seeking a way to gain the leave for which her magic is bellowing, threatening to blind her and choke her if she does not permit it release. "Please... Tybio... let me help you. You burn. You... cannot run from your pursuers... or climb up pipes... if you are coughing..." As she speaks, her voice roughens further, betraying the struggle she is having bending the rebellious magic to her will. Tybio blinks once more and says softly, "Do what ya gota Statue...Yer doin it cause ya gota...cause of yer power. Ain't causea Tybio" With that, Faanshi's eyes, already flooded with compassion, turn decidedly liquid. One shaky golden hand lifts, then, to the damp blue silken veil that conceals her face from the eyes of men -- and lowers it, baring her full visage to you. Those big green eyes are joined by a fine-boned nose and a tremulous mouth, a delicately pointed chin and cheekbones that look too fragile to belong to one of the Children of Fire... but then, had she not said she is a halfbreed? "No," Faanshi whispers gently, her voice gaining resonance with her relief at your consent, "I do it... because it is right... because you are in need... and because I _can_. _I_ choose... not my power!" Tybios eyes grow wide as he sees your face for the first time, his voice falters a bit when he finaly magaes to speak, "I ken take care of meself." he says softly, almost as if trying to convince himself of this fact all the sudden....finaly he finishes lamely and with a bit of hopelessness entering his expression, "Yer beutifull." That's probably acute shyness that twists that slender mouth at the voicing of the word 'beautiful'; that quirk of lips, however, is the only acknowledgement Faanshi gives it. There are far more important matters that require her attention, now. "I know you can," she breathes, her hands coming up now, one to your brow, one to your chest. The green eyes close; her breath catches. And with that, she sets her power free... not to flow as it will, but to flow as _she_ wills. To one blind to the currents of the aether, the magic cannot be tasted. But its effects are undeniable, as it soaks through you. Breathing is eased, airways cleared deep within the chest. The heat of the body, skewed by sickness, is coaxed back into balance. And the illness itself, where it hides within you, is caused to melt away like ice in a shaft of sunlight. Tybios eyes close at your touch, his mouth sags open as he feels the power of your healing....his breath becomes audably more easy with each passing moment, the skin under your hands returns quickly to a normal temprature.... Aztlan makes his way in from the Rialto to the north. Aztlan has arrived. Dara makes her way in from the Rialto to the north. Dara has arrived. Tybio is sitting on the road, looking up at Faanshi with wide eyes....why such a healthy looking Mongrel would be sitting in a cold puddle is a little odd...but then..this is Tybio. Aztlan strolls down the street with Dara at his side. His hood has been thrown back to let the rain patter on his face and freeze in his hair. He seems in an almost-amiable mood now... Dara leaves the market place at the side of Aztlan, heading in a determined stride towards the beach. Even though she's soaked through all over, the cold rain doesn't seem to bother her, and she splashes up the water as she steps into the puddles. A serene smile has settled on her lips. She cannot accomplish everything, this halfbreed healer maiden with the summergreen eyes and the hands like golden sunshine; she cannot create strength out of nothing. And so, what energies she loans the Mongrel boy come from Faanshi herself, as she kneels there before Tybio with one hand on his brow and the other on his chest, the aether seemingly encircling them both in a ball of warmth despite the chill of the rain. Ever so slightly, her arms begin to tremble; then, ever so slightly, her breathing falls off rhythm, as her magic soaks through the boy and chases the sickness from his system. Watching all this, the half-grown pup Kosha whines quietly, hopefully, not understanding what his mistress is doing past a dog's recollection that the touch of Faanshi's hands is Good. Dara chatters casually to her companion, "You know, we have much heavier rains at home. They're warm, but much stronger than this. They're called monsoon. They only last a few minutes, but I always loved to dance in them, without this stupid thingie." She tugs in a bothered way her kaftan. "It's..." She doesn't finish the sentence as her eyes fall on the pair in the middle of the wet, empty street. Tybios lips turn into a frown as he sees the price she is paying for this...he lifts his hand to her arm, hoping to break the contact as he starts shaking his head, "'nuff!" is all he can get out...his eyes darken with worry. Aether is a wonderful thing; for those with the Sight, magically gifted people appear with glowing aura...when the Aether is summoned and used, those aura become much brighter, acting as beacons in the normally mundance and banal world of reality...and one such beacon is glowing hotly in the center of the street...perhaps not the most intelligent of places to work magic, but no one ever said rogues were the smartest arrows in the quiver. Aztlan's breath turns shallow, his head slowly turning to face Faanshi and Tybios. Seeing Tybio lightly shaking the maiden, Kosha chimes in his own assistance, nudging his wet self in between Mongrel and halfbreed. The leggy young pup catches a fold of Faanshi's rain-darkened sari in his teeth, tugging at it insistently. A muffled little 'yrf' sound punctuates his efforts. And Faanshi, between the dog and the youth, shivers as her hands are moved, the contact sundered. "You should... find a dry place to rest," she murmurs absently, "and you'll be all right..." Dara seems to sense, or at least guess something as well. Her hand slides around Aztlan's arm, to hold him, even if this isn't really needed. Her head tilts to look him directly in the eyes, and watch his reaction. She does speak to him, even if no sound escapes her throat. Tybio frowns, and lifts his hand to her veil, "Put this on Statue...an let me get ya outa here." and with that he bounces lightly to his feet and looks around wairly. Sence back about the little thief, he knows damn well what kinda truble they could be in right now. He spots the other two on the street, but after filing there presanse away for reference he ignores them and offers a hand to Faanshi. Her veil. Oh. Yes. As her magic grudgingly begins to subside, satisfied that it's accomplished the task at hand, it begins to occur to the halfbreed maiden that her face is uncharacteristically bare. With an unsteady intake of breath, she moves her hands to lift the blue silk back into place. "Thank you," she whispers to Tybio, gratefully accepting the proferred hand, as freely as she'd offered him her magic. Only the tug of Kosha's teeth in her sari halts her, and that's only momentary, as she adds tinily to the dog, "Let go, now, Kosha... shh..." Tybio watches her closely to be sure that she's stable on her feet before he even contemplates letting her hand go..."Ya should not ha done that ya know...." The thickly-robed figure down the street turns, the rest of his body aligning with his head and his gaze. He begins to walk towards the veiled woman, his voice lifting, "Excuse me, ma'am? IF I may have a word with you?" The question is polite, even as he continues approaching. Dara lets go of Aztlan, remaining where she is. With arms crossed over her chest, she watches Faanshi closely, awaiting a response. Though she has called herself a servant, Faanshi's hand in Tybio's seems to bely that claim somehow; that hand of hers is delicate of line, the skin surprisingly soft and unflawed for a hand that should be roughened from work, her grip not strong but close, like a well-fitted glove. It is, however, a servant's bearing that comes across her frame at the sound of the call in her direction, and a servant's humility in her tone as she turns, slowly, to the newcomer. Only Tybio might catch that flare of alarm in her eyes before her head bows demurely, keeping her gaze from meeting that of the one who approaches. "Do you speak to me, imphadi?" comes her quiet reply. Tybio stiffens as the man speaks, a small sigh escaping his lips as he murmurs somthing to Faanshi before turning to face him with a scowl. He holds onto her hand firmly, offering his support as his other hand slips behind his back. Tybio mutters, "run...now, go." Aztlan continues his forward stride, "I am Aztlan, Sibyl and Mystic of the Delphic Order. I do not mean you any harm, though I advise you to not run for your future well-being. You are a magic-wielder, and I am concerned only for your control over that magic." Ohhhh dear. Kosha, now edging forward in front of his young mistress, begins to growl softly -- though he is too well-trained to pounce on anything without Faanshi's order. Tybio, still holding Faanshi's hand, can feel a tremor of something that might be fright shoot through those slender fingers. She does not, however, run. Nearly eighteen years of inbred servitude assure that. On the other hand, her belief in her place in the world is also assured, low though that place might be. "I am a healer, imphadi," she acknowledges softly, still not looking up. The voice from behind the veil is husky, weary... but serene and respectful. "My service belongs to the Khalid Atar and to Kiera Khalida, his Favored." Tybios hand slides from behind his back, a small well keeped blade glinting in the dim light as he says, "She don wana talk ta ya...bugger off Fish." Dara swallows audibly at the woman's response. Khalid Atar. Even if she came here but a few weeks ago, having little contact with anybody outside the fish Decemvirate before, that name is known to her. So, in that case...better not bother her. Just assume she's a good healer, who's got control over herself. Let's drop the plan about go to fetch a hound. Still, the young Atlantean cannot tear her eyes off the meek woman, studying her features, her skin, her eyes. So what if she's caught glaring. The mongrel's rude remark is just ignored. Aztlan's gaze holds Faanshi's, "Both titles are admirable, imphada and as such I offer you my respect. However you must realize that as members of the Delphic Order it is our duty to ensure that the mages performing their various trades within the walls of Haven have their abilities under control so as to not endanger themselves, nor anyone else," he explains, giving Tybios the most unimpressed look he can muster. "I would encourage you to come to the Citadel for testing; we may be able to hone your abilities in ways you may not understand and in exchange we may learn something from your methods of instruction, as we always seek to better ourselves and those with an affinity for magic." Another polite smile is offered to Faanshi, "until then, blessings of peaceful waters, imphada. Be well." Tybio shrugs, as long as there leaving he could care less about there attitudes...he turns back to the Statue, "Comeon, lets get ya somthing ta eat that don't smell like Fish, any more an i'd heave all over 'em." Well, Aztlan might hold Faanshi's if she actually looked up, which she does not. Her posture and stance create the very picture of a shy servant girl, perhaps not what one might expect considering the disturbance she'd just been creating in the aether. Dara's scrutiny can show her the rain-darkened but still nevertheless vividly hued silks that garb Faanshi's tall, slim frame: silks in rich blue, red, and gold, for all that the sari shows subtle signs of wear and those are definite rags that encircle her lower legs beneath the straps. To Aztlan, then, she murmurs shyly, "I go where the Hawk of Heaven bids me, imphadi, but thank you for your offer. Peaceful waters and the light of Ushas be upon you." Jasmine wanders in from the union of Seaside and Border, just to the west. Jasmine has arrived. Aztlan nods to the not-looking Faanshi and turns back to Dara, "Now, about that swim," he comments, letting it trail into silence as he falls in step with her toward the beach. Tybio sighs and shrugs, the hand with his knife slips back bhind him and slides the blade home in it's place under his shirt. muttering, "Bloody pure blood inbreads an there games." to himself as he waits for Faanshi to stop playing with the Fish and get the food she needs. Dara taps her feet nervously in the small puddles on the ground. The rain flows smoothly off her scaly skin, affecting her little. Her attention remains on Atzlan and Faanshi, and a smile settles back on her lips as Aztlan turns back to her. "You've said all you had to. Now, let's go." Together, the head for one of the streets south, blatantly ignoring any more offensive comments from the mongrel kid. Dara walks across the coral bridge to the Atlantean Embassy. Dara has left. Aztlan walks across the coral bridge to the Atlantean Embassy. Aztlan has left. Jasmine crosses the bridge from the Korallion, head turned to catch the freezing rain on her face, mouth opened. She seems to pay little mind to those around, until she catches sight of the familiar form of Aztlan disappearing, and then looks slightly disappointed. She then scans the remaining people. Polaris arrives from the bridge leading towards the Korallion. Polaris has arrived. Once Aztlan and Dara go about their business, Faanshi blows out a soft sigh of relief. She had spoken truth to the Delphic Atlantean -- Khalid Atar has the first claim upon her power -- but this doesn't mean the encounter hadn't badly rattled her. As Kosha nudges hopefully at her knees with his cold, wet muzzle, the maiden whispers hoarsely to the Mongrel lad at her side, "The... dawn comes. I need to light a fire to Ushas, Tybio..." Polaris strides from Korallion, clutching his trident firmly to the point his knuckles become white. His visage is emotionless, but his sea green eyes are maelstroms full of fury and rage. He does not take immediate notice of anyone here. Tybio blinks, "Ya gota set someone on fire?" Jasmine greets some of the nearby Atlantean merchants silently. She begins walking forward again, tilting her face up to the rain, and then veers off, deciding to do some windowshopping today. Or something. Anything to keep her mind occupied. Polaris moves off in the direction of the Rialto not having noticed Jasmine or the others. Work is all that fills his mind. Kosha is a sharp-eyed young pup, and his fluffy little head whips back and forth as he notes the passing of others coming out onto the streets as the day gets underway. But as no one else seems inclined to drawn near to Faanshi and Tybio, so far, the dog is content. Faanshi, in the meantime, blinks back at her young companion, and then explains earnestly, tiredly, "Oh... no... I am only a healer, not a fire-mage... the dawn has come. It is the time of Ushas, the Khalid's holy Mother... I need to make Her a fire, and pray..." Jasmine overhears Faanshi's words and turns to watch curiously. Praying and fire in the middle of the street? In the rain? As she turns she catches sight of a familiar outline. No, it couldn't be. Polaris left months ago. Her imagination has enough trouble right now since Melei left without needing any assistance from any other events. Still, she watches the form. Polaris continues up the road at an even pace. Still, Jasmine goes unoticed by the Korallion Guard. Polaris stops abruptly Jasmine steps backward as if slapped. There is no telepathic thought that follows. Polaris slowly turns to face her. Sea green eyes dark and hard, but his expression remains neutral. Phoebe wanders in from the union of Seaside and Border, just to the west. Phoebe has arrived. Cold, wet and cranky. That about sums it up. Huddled beneath a tattered cloak of awkwardly held feathers, Phoebe comes stompstomping down the street. Said street is recieving a solid dose of glowering growls, the likes of which should crack cobblestone and boil the very earth itself. No, this childling is not happy -- the reason for this is obvious, in those familiar with the tiny bedraggled figure. One hand keeps slapping against her hip, where a wiggly knife sheath rests... empty of its knife. Uhoh. She's lost her toy. Jasmine would smile, except for the coolness emanating from Polaris. She blinks in confusion. She's really not up to this right now, whatever /this/ is. Naiadre makes her way in from the Rialto to the north. Naiadre has arrived. Tybio gacks, eyeing the Statue for a moment before saying, "Yer gona turn some other Statue into fire and pray?" Jasmine stares at Polaris uncomprehendingly, shaking her head. Polaris glares harshly at Jasmine Naiadre wanders down the street from the Rialto to the north, drenched and completely oblivious toit. At least she finally found breakfast. That unconcerned wandering comes to an abrupt end when she spots Jasmine and Polaris, jade eyes narrowing. A glance to either side of the stret and she strikes off in their direction. Tybio turns and looks around the street as he waits for her responce...he blinks at all the people which seem to have come out of nowhere before turning back to the Statue though his attention is cought by the flutterby doll and he chuckles softly. Once more, Kosha nudges at Faanshi's knees, yipping a trifle more loudly to try to get her attention, to get her moving. The maiden's summergreen gaze has gone a little absent over the top of her blue veil, but she patiently explains to Tybio, "No... Ushas is a goddess, Tybio... the mother... of the Khalid... it is my time to pray to her..." Prayer time or not, it would seem that Faanshi is beginning to look _quite_ exhausted, or at least as near as one can tell with half her face obscured by the damp silk of her veil. Mrmph. People. Phoebe shakes out of whatever blissfully violent fantasy she'd immersed herself in and blinks owlishly at the small gathering -- those people actually standing still rather than hustling and bustling right on through as most do. Like a battered alleycat too curious for its own good, but too peopleshy to draw close enough to get involved, the girl edges around the periphery to fix everyone's locations in her mind, then takes up a point crouched near the fishypeople bridge. Chuckling? Pray tell was that at her, young sir? Whether it was or not, Tybio's chuckling gains an intense glare and just a /little/ baring of the teeth. Or she could just be reacting to him talking to someone swathed in Demon silk. Bad Varati. Bad. Jasmine frowns slightly, instinctively moving closer to Naiadre. This is not a Polaris she is familiar with. Polaris looks at Jasmine intently, "How could you?!?" Naiadre takes a step closer to Jasmine herself, protective instincts bristling like some rangy cat's mane. Or something. "Jasmine? What is wrong here?" She murmurs aloud. Tybio steps to the Statue and offers an arm, "We gota get ya ta yer church, or mine...er fordge or whatever then. An then ya gota sleep." once that is done he turns his attention back to the runt flutterby and meets her glair with a slow wink. Polaris gives Naiadre the same glare, "Do not pretend to not know!" He spits the words out with seething venom" Jasmine reaches for Naiadre's arm. Even the non-Atlanteans can likely feel the tension, if they're aware enough. "I need only a fire... a little one will do," murmurs Faanshi wearily. Apparently unheeding of Tybio's general state of grubbiness -- one thing about rain, even cold rain, it does tend to give one a thorough bath -- she gratefully accepts his arm. And just in case her young companion might have forgotten, she reminds him solemnly, "And you should rest in a warm place so that the illness does not come back..." Naiadre reaches out simultaneously to Jasmine and takes her hand. She glares in return at Polaris. "There is no need to be so upset." Oh ho! So he was chuckling at her! The teeth-baring is upped a notch, by the emerging growl that thrums out of Phoebe's young birdy throat. But subtle threats like this are distracted by the yelling fishypeople. Sullen, wild blue eyes dart towards that cluster of personages, narrow a bit. One, two, three, and they're not fighting yet. So back to Tybio that gaze goes, accompanied with an under-the-breath curse of such magnitude, it could melt marble. Take that, mongrel demon-lover. Tybio tilts his head a bit, "We could go ta the Song...an get a room for ya ta pray in if ya like? Then ya could eat an sleep in peace." Polaris slams the butt of his trident down, "No need to be angry?!?" Naiadre falls silent, letting the blazing jade in her eyes speak the volumes fo emotion she feels, as do the others. A happy meeting thisis not. Telepathically to Naiadre Polaris Phoebe Faanshi Tybio> Jasmine says "swirling tendrils of emotional pain" "I should... return soon to Atesh-Gah," Faanshi murmurs, eyes closing for a moment as she tries to rally her depleted energies. So far she hasn't noticed the angry Empyrean child... and that may well be because of the abrupt sensation of Something Else that touches her. With a shuddering intake of breath, she looks up. Tybio turns to the runt flutterby and seems about to say somthing, a plesant smile on his face, when suddently his eyes go wide and he groans softly, free hand reaching up to his head. Tears slide down Jasmine's cheeks and she shakes her head, running back into the Korallion. This is too much, and she's not ready for it. Growl becomes full-fledged snarl, and a redirecting of hostile looks towards the fishypeople. Phoebe knows that feeling, someone's tried to poke around in her mind before, and there's only one race capable of it. "Stay outta my head!" So she /can/ speak, beyond foul words and growls. The voice is squeakyshrill, and definately angry. Good thing she doesn't have that wiggly knife, or it'd be drawn by now. Since it's not here, the little girl has to settle for jumping up -- wings flashing out in aggressive posturing -- and skedaddling for less interesting environs. Mongrel, demons, and everything else are promptly forgotten by the child as she runs. Tybio eyes the flutterby for a moment, fixing her little devil face in his mind for future followup before turning to the Statue, "Leme walk ya there then?" as he eyes the rest of the street about to blow up....normaly his kinda place...but the Statue can't take it right now. Phoebe follows Seaside to the west. Phoebe has left. Naiadre growls, puting a hand to ehr head and starting after Jasmine. Her normally lilting voice cracks as she calls both aloud and mentally. "Jasmine!" Jasmine walks across the coral bridge to the Atlantean Embassy. Jasmine has left. Naiadre directs a last angry glance a t Po, as if to say, this is your fault! Before she follows Jas. Naiadre walks across the coral bridge to the Atlantean Embassy. Naiadre has left. Faanshi blinks. That's about all she can manage as in short, sharp succession she catches a glimpse of the infuriated winged child fleeing the scene, and more glimpses of the sea-folk as they take their own leaves. As she staggers a moment, Kosha whines and then growls, in vain looking about for whatever it might be troubling his young mistress. Tybio sighs and steps in closer to the Statue, "Put yer arm around me sholder." as his goes around her waist to support her, "Come on...lets get ya home." Polaris heads right into the thick of the Rialto along the northern road. Polaris has left. Polaris makes his way in from the Rialto to the north. Polaris has arrived. Polaris walks across the coral bridge to the Atlantean Embassy. Polaris has left. "I can walk," Faanshi assures gently, though her voice is weak and wan. "But thank you, my friend..." As far as Kosha is concerned, as long as they get _moving_, he doesn't care where they go. Once again, the puppy yips his interest in getting out of the Wet. Tybio nods, obviously not beleving you as he watches with no little concern, "Lets be about it then M'lady." Northward, then, into the Rialto... Tybio heads right into the thick of the Rialto along the northern road. Tybio has left. [And onward...] Tybio still has his arm around your waste and is helping you walk tward the Statue house to the north. Faanshi is, more or less, true to her word. She can and does walk, though her steps are tentative, laid down with careful precision, like the steps of someone who has had enough wine to affect their motor functions but not enough to entirely remove their control. Through the Rialto, then, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible on a icy morning when one is clad in vividly hued silk with a dog on one side and a Mongrel boy on the other. Tybio walks along with you, eyes constantly scanning the people of the City out of long habit. He's not exactly the most unobtrusive of people to be with....there is an almost constant wave of Mongrels, and poor who glance at him...see he's at work, and turn the other way. Moving. Moving is good, as far as Kosha is concerned, especially if moving is about to end in warmth and food and Home. The pup trots determinedly at Faanshi's side, skidding occasionally in puddles and mud and upon patches of ice, but keeping up nevertheless. And soon, the marketplace is crossed without incident... [And northward...] You continue north toward the crossing of Palisade and North. Palisade and North - Haven Some have likened the Varati home to a geode--rough and plain on the outside, while opulence and splendor lie within. Certainly the first part of that analogy is true. The only hint that these buildings house the more prominent members of Varati society are their size. Massive structures loom on either side of the street, crafted from brick, marble, granite, and even metal. And here, also, is the grand embassy of the Varati. Only shaping magic could have created such a structure, for it gives the impression of having grown out of the earth itself. Like the others, its decoration is minimal, yet flowing curves and the use of obsidian and marble make such ornamentation unnecessary. Flanked by stone pillars, the entranceway is constantly guarded by sentinels who may as well be stone themselves, so humorless are they. Only guests of the kingdom and ambassadors from other realms may pass within. A gate leads out of the city to a road that eventually winds into the distant, northern mountains, though few ever dare venture that far. Obvious exits: Atesh-Gah Streets Gate Please see +lhelp for information on local news. Tybio arrives from the south. Tybio has arrived. Tybio eyes the gates to the Atesh-Gah and pauses in the street...eyes kinda wide and fixed on it. Kosha's steps grow more assured as the streets near the Varati citadel are entered... and Faanshi's steps alter, too, but hers slow as she and her dog and their companion reach a point still somewhat distant from the gates where the ever-vigilant Agni-Haidar keep their stoic watch. The maiden pauses to steady herself, to catch her breath... and to murmur to Tybio, "They will be seeking me in the kitchens, come the morning, but... do you have a place to go, a warm place? You need to rest..." And her summergreen gaze turns to look down at the lad, full of her concern, never mind her own weariness. Tybio slowly reaches a hand out tward you, a poutch dangeling from his fingers is his only reply as he watchs the Guards. The maiden blinks, recognizing that simple bag of red velvet, worn from loving use, smelling of the small quantities of herbs she carries within. "My pouch--" comes her murmur, as the weary healer tries to remember if she had lost it during the commotion in the Rialto, or perhaps had dropped it on the street... Tybio turns to face you, still holding the poutch up, "I left ya somthin in it Faanshi. I'll be at the Song if ya wana get a drink later?" "Something... oh, Tybio... you need not..." Faanshi trails off, then, having begun to learn over this past winter, indeed, even during her trip to Avalon, that those she heals seem to have a habit of wanting to repay her. Not to mention that so few people have ever tried to give her anything that she does not have the heart to refuse this Mongrel lad his gesture... and so she gracefully yields. Her veil hides the smile of her mouth but not the smile in her eyes, and she says softly, "Thank you. I will come... if I can." Tybio nods slowly and turns, he runs down the street like a bat out of hell, as fast as he can away from the Guards. Looking over his sholder for a moment at you before jumping onto a drainpipe and scampering up to the roof of one of the nearbuy buildings. Tybio travels south toward the intersection of Fairway and North. Tybio has left. [End log.]