The Foretelling [Whisper]

[Linika]

The Foretelling

8th Trial of Saun, 716th arc

It had been a few arcs now and Linika was not so affected by the Videnese cold as before. The fact that it was now Saun was a major factor in her current comfort level. The hot season in this cold clime was not that different from the cold weather training she'd undergone back in the southern mountains before heading north under the guise of an exile. And living through the Videnese cold made all previous complaints about cold weather laughable.

She could endure a full day of apothecary-related efforts out-of-doors now almost without buttoning her jacket. She'd gone further afield this day than usual, as the targets for her chemistry needs were now becoming scarce again. There was a good stock of them back at the V-wing by now however, so it was not a crucial endeavor. But her experimentations were in a bit of a null point right now.

She'd dabbled with some of the Saxifrage-laced reagents throughout the Rebirth cycle, even going so far as to artificially induce trust into the minds of some of her immediate supervisors. She'd jumped on an opportunity to salvage a thousand nels' worth of the Frageon crystals, infusing some mundane reagents with their versatility by convincing the doctor and nurse who'd been present at the time that the process she'd used was entirely necessary.

They were only medics. They used finished drugs in their work, they did not make the drugs. They knew no better. As a result, Linika now enjoyed a full cabinet of common chemicals and reagents with the Saxifrage benefit of being able to be combined with virtually ANY additional chemical effect. A dab of this narcotic here, this hallucinogen there, both coupled with a mental uninhibitor, could all be blended into a simple digestive aid. Then, sneak a bit of spice into a faculty luncheon spread and she had a number of delicate stomachs requesting that very thing. She'd put hints and sureties of her undervalued worth into several minds that had the authority to act upon them. It needed to look like their idea, not hers.

So now she just waited to realize the fruits of her schemes. It was perhaps this distraction of this anticipation that allowed the form to get so close to her. In the gelid cold of Cylus, this mist would have likely been frozen, but Saun gave it sufficient warmth to glide in and go for her throat. It was only the wind and her cloak that prevented its contact. The sudden stiff wind not only gave her sufficient chill to suddenly huddle up, but it also flapped the hem of her cloak up enough to block the mist entity's attempt against her.

This odd behavior in something that should certainly be flowing with the wind, rather than against it, was all the warning Linika needed. She dodged back several steps and pulled her dagger, ready to issue a confident challenge. But all that was before her was a vaguely human shape, formed entirely of a foggy mist. She noted that the wind didbuffet it to some degree now, and assumed that her own body had initially blocked the wind from fully impacting the thing.

Despite the wind, the creature moved toward her, and her dagger lashed out where the throat should be. It passed through with no effect. By the time she'd made two more pointless swipes, serving only to scatter the misty throat's definition a bit, she felt a freezing cold clutch at her own throat. She suddenly could not breathe! In addition to the grip on her throat, mist now prodded sharply at her lips, trying to enter within as well as without. She nearly gave in to panic, to shout "NO!", but caught herself, realizing this would only enable the phenomenon to gaining easy access.

Instead she shook her head as violently side-to-side as the grip on her throat would let her. It served long enough to jab the now fully formed mist hand holding her neck with the point. It let her go of her throat, but dipped and circled in what she should have recognized as a roundhouse haymaker. The fully formed fist slammed into the side of her face, turning her focus and resolve into painful dazed confusion. She found herself on her hands and knees facing a growing pattern of bloody drops in the snow. The mist fully enclosed her head now, and her concentration on keeping her mouth closed kept her from the second most important target, her nose.

She could feel the cold fill her sinuses and begin to slide down the back of her oral cavity. She knew real terror for perhaps the first time in her life. A terror born of complete helplessness and inability to fight back. She knew this mist would solidify, as it had done to form the hand, and seal her throat where she could not get at it.

She screamed, not as a strategy but as an unavoidable impulse of panic and horror. There was brief respite as she felt the cold being pushed back up from her throat by the forced air of her scream. Desperate inspiration seized her and she screamed again. She actually felt the solidified end of the intruding form pass by her teeth. She bit down with the very primal resolve of any creature's desire to live, and felt the thing shudder in her mouth.

But all this did was cause it to vaporize that portion between her teeth. There was still too much there to block it with her tongue. Realization hit her that she'd only prolonged the inevitable. She had too little air in her lungs to scream again, and she could only imagine the boon she would give her enemy by inhaling. But even as defeat found a place in her realization, a second hand grabbed her head, and the bright, irritant of a burning torch was thrust in her face. "Breathe the hot smoke! Now! DO IT! Even if you burn your mouth. It will evaporate the creature."

The natural Naerikk tendency to distrust a racial stranger was cast from her soul as she inhaled the ember-dotted smoke. She was instantly beset by coughing. But never had she been so glad to cough uncontrollably, for she could feel the thing dissipate. She embraced the coughing, even grabbing the torch and suffering another dose of heat and smoke; and another after that.

"Okay, okay, do no injury to your lung tissue, girl! You must be able to speak to any who will listen. Never have you had such need of speech!" The man with the torch said. Linika looked up at him, still coughing. If ever the word "zealot" was to be embodied in a human form, it stood before her now. From the sparse clothing in the cold of Viden, seeming to have no impact upon him, to the blaze of absolute conviction in his eyes, there was no denying this man believed.

But now her skepticism returned. She owed this man her life, and she did not like that feeling. She was uncertain what this man was so resolute about, but he did not wait for he to ask, "The lady of toxin, the furious actor, and the anarchic mimic have begun to plot against all, seeking the beating heart."

[Whisper]

“The lady of toxin, the furious actor, and the anarchic mimic have begun to plot against all, seeking the beating heart.” The man stood, staring at the wheezing woman in front of her. His eyes were ablaze with a fiery passion which was so misplaced in a city such as the cold and aloof Viden. That, if anything, would be enough for the outcast in front of him to understand the importance of such words. The look in the naer’s own gaze spoke nothing of such understanding, however. She was cautious… and she had every right to be, for one such as she to be present in the fortress of learning.

The man took a step closer, a steadying hand coming to rest on the naer’s upper arm, forcing her attention on to him. “Listen, girl!” he hissed, going as far as to give the woman a shake. “You are not of this city. You are not so limited in your insight by books and fact that you cannot see truth in that which has not been written in an ancient tome..” His dark eyes were ripped away from the woman’s at the sound of metal bashing on wood. A fleeting, look akin to fear and desperation, passed over the man’s face as he searched his surroundings for the origin of the disturbance, but found only the natural rustling of a strong breeze as the cause.

Eventually, he turned back to the woman, pleased to find the coughing had finally subsided, now that pure, crisp air had cleared out any foul unnaturalness from the smoke. “This city… if only one were to believe me, a force to be reckoned with would be summoned within days.” A small, mirthless laugh escaped the man’s lips. Paired with the impassioned gaze in his eyes, it made him appear almost maniacal, every bit the madman he apparently claimed not to be.

“Yet Viden is backward in its enlightenment in some respects. You, of all strangers to these lands, cannot have missed this misguided quality amongst the learned?” Again, the man looked away, but only briefly this time. If Linika wondered at all about the supernatural assailant she had been saved from, the man offered no explanation, or even mention of the creature he had sabotaged. Such was his intent on imparting his knowledge on the naer.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he repeated what could only be described as a prophecy, “The lady of toxin, the furious actor, and the anarchic mimic have begun to plot against all, seeking the beating heart.” There was something about the words, a quality that they possessed. Link would not be able to lightly cast them off as the words of a raving madman. “Go. Please.” With one final squeeze of her arm, the man finally released his grasp on her, “Go now!”

[Linika]

Linika stared at the man, alarm and suspicion conflicting for dominance. "Of course I know there's wisdom that cannot be found in books." she snapped at the stranger. "You do not need to explain to me what 'insight' is, sir. Perhaps my insight tells me that you summoned that...mist...thing...exactly to make me feel indebted...indebted to the point of undoing the progress I've made here by advocating belief in some mad scheme involving the one Immortal whose name will raise the most hateful reaction against me!"

Her conviction was less than complete, however. She knew damn well which Immortal, and what event, was being suggested by the reference to "the beating heart". One did not need full clearance on classified lore to know of Audrae's dispatch of the weakling, Treid, when one was an Augiery-born naer. Nor was it likely that it was difficult to learn the misguided eidisi version of that event here in Viden. - Always the deliberate refusal to acknowledge Treid's liability to the stability of a recognizable power structure among those Immortals with any real capability, and right, to rule this world.

It was more the other Immortal references that concerned her. "The Lady of Toxin" was obviously Lisirra. Linika's past adventures in Desnind, among the Sev'ryn, had seen that lore drilled more than sufficiently into her memory. And where Lisirra was involved, Syroa was sure to be found. But it had been understood among the Naerikk that Syroa was numbered among Mother Audrae's allies; at least for as much as the term could ever truly be trusted.

'Is there betrayal afoot?' she asked herself. She had no illusions about Lisirra's level of self-interest. But what was there about Treid's heart that could benefit her? Or was it more to deny some gain obtained in that event to Audrae? 'What would make Syroa choose to betray Mother Audrae anyway? And who was that other reference supposed to indicate?' She assumed it was a male Immortal with the choice of "actor" as opposed to "actress". But she knew her list of known Immortals was far from complete.

She knew that she had no true idea what magnitude of complexity Mother Audrae's schemes could entail. But it was also possible that this was a test. Would she be insulting her matron Immortal by presuming there could be a secret that she was not privy to? Or was part of Mother Audrae's great command of hidden knowledge dependent upon the relaying of such items as this, by her faithful, to her storehouse of secrets? Linika had never really thought of it that way. She'd always simply wanted to be helpful in any way she could. She'd never really been in situation where she might have information no one else did.

The man repeated his warning, his zeal striking a tone of apprehension in Linika's skepticism. She expected him to make some comment to impress some debt on her part, stemming from his having rescued her from the mist creature. But he acted as though it was completely irrelevant, or even forgotten.

It was not lost on her that he truly seemed only to consider the merit of his words to be of any importance. There was nothing in his tone or expression to indicate some obligation to ignore the outlandishness of the situation in exchange for saving her life. There was an aspect of honor displayed by his attitude. And for all that people despised the naer for their warrior culture and cruelty, none dared say that they did not possess a warrior's honor. This connection counted greatly in her eyes.

Those eyes now looked at her arm, where he'd gripped it in his anxiety, and he released it with a last plea to "Go. Please. Go now." Her expression in response was troubled as she suddenly realized that her mission was supposed to be her priority, and that this would very likely compromise it. She could not tell him what it was that conflicted. She looked down in dismay, and could almost feel his expression becoming accusing, as if she was found to be a traitor after all, by refusing to aid her Matron against a far-reaching plot.

"And where am I to go!" she cried, looking up in near anguish. "Wise or foolish, these Videnese will not aid me in helping the Great Mother! I have no means of sending word to her, even if I was sure that this was not some trick to...make it...look like I am here to conduct some mischief. And why should mother Audrae listen? I am an exile! Do you have anything to prove that what you say is true?"

[Whisper]

The man had turned, torch in hand, and had begun to walk away when the naer’s voice summoned him back. He paused, staring out into the distance. In the dim light, he could just barely make out the peaks of the cliff tops. Winter, the Cold Cyle, would soon be upon them. by that point, even the most hardy of Videnese folk would not be able to travel from the city. Even animals not endemic to the area would drop dead within 24 hours of leaving the protection Yvmthia provided.

The snowfall would be too deep; carts would not be able to travel along paths from the city and no man, woman, or child would be able to survive without the supplies a cart could provide. He was running out of time with which to get his message out of Viden. The world needed to react, and it needed to react soon. He had stood in silence, unmoving, for more bits than was probably natural. Just as suddenly he spun around, eyes wild as the animals that lived just beyond the walls of Viden.

“I don’t care,” he hissed, his free hand once again grasping at the naer’s upper arm and shaking her slightly. Linika would probably find in a couple of days that a five-pronged would form on her arm - an easy reminder of perhaps the most important day of her life. Something she would only realise in hindsight. “I don’t care.”

“Your woes and sorrows are your own to bear! Not mine.” The man’s voice could almost be described as high pitched, such was the sibilance of his tone in his frustrated anger. “The Videnese hate and mistrust you, Augiery hates and mistrusts you… these are obstacles not flung in my path. They are not mine to overcome.” Closing his eyes, the man bowed his head slightly, so that his forehead almost came into contact with Linika’s own.

“I found you.” His words came out as a broken, desperate, whisper now. “I did. The painted girl in the cold.” Slowly, the man’s grip lessened. Then, the fingers began to drop, sliding along the woman’s arms until gravity took over and the arm fell away entirely, hanging limply at his side.

It was a few moments later that the man finally pulled away. This time, Linika would see a calm and collected man, at his most sane. He even appeared cold and aloof, like the rest of the population of Viden. Gently, he took the woman’s hand in his own and squeezed it before pressing the torch into it.“Coming to Viden was never going to be the easiest path. All that is bad about the world stands in your way, challenging each step you take. You must find a way to keep on walking, girl.”

He stepped back, speaking one final time before disappearing again into the foggy darkness. “The lady of toxin, the furious actor, and the anarchic mimic have begun to plot against all, seeking the beating heart.”

[Linika]

Linika stared in conflicted shock as the man stepped back, his initial tirade giving way to sudden calm. She stared after him, wondering what this "painted girl in the cold" nonsense was supposed to indicate. Was she supposed to be an integral figure in some prophecy? Why then, would he acknowledge the massive obstacles she would face in taking action, yet wash his hands of any obligation to help?

She rubbed her arm absently where he'd gripped it. She was about to ask him what use his assessment of her situation would be without any help, when he repeated the initial pronouncement. “The lady of toxin, the furious actor, and the anarchic mimic have begun to plot against all, seeking the beating heart.”

She snorted once in disgust, leaving a broad swath of misty breath, and turned as if to beseech an imagined theater crowd for agreement about the absurdity of the whole drama. When she turned back, the man was gone. She froze in perplexed astonishment, the took several hurried steps to regain sight of him. But there was no sign now that he'd ever even stood there, save for the torch in her hand.

She stared at it now as if it might bite her, her skin beginning to crawl in fear of the supernatural. the memory of the misty assailant did nothing to assuage the macabre sense of her predicament. She needed to think. This torch was not such a mundane item as to be impossible to carry significant importance. At present, her mission stood foremost in her priorities. Yet, if there was a plot by three enemy Immortals against the Great Mother, didn't that supersede her mission? What good was her mission if Audrae were disabled like Treid had been...or worse?

It was not fear of the obstacles that gave her pause. It was the waste of time. It was the chance that pursuing this might put her in an ill light with the Videnese, after making such progress recently. But was it really wasted time? It was known right from the start that patience was a priority. Was it possible that her recent promotion to the Viridian Wing would bring renewed suspicion and scrutiny on her? Maybe it was a good idea to scale back her espionage for a time. Whatever was going on in Viden was not going anywhere.

And even if she was "caught" trying to warn Audrae of a plot, would that really reflect something these people would consider traitorous of her, a naer? They might not like it, but it really shouldn't surprise them that an "Eill", an exile, might try anything to regain favor with her home culture. It really should only be of significant outrage if this plot directly involved Yvithia herself. And if that were the case, any extreme reprisal would only tip the Great Mother off to this detail.

Linika started to smile. Yes, her mind was all but made up. But how to actually warn her Matron? To give legitimacy to the exile cover story, she had not been allowed any of the Blessings that might allow a quick message to be sent. 'How else are messages sent', she asked herself. She knew her mission was so long term she'd never considered this part of it. She had supposed she'd steal a boat. But that was only with the mission information, which was expected to be nothing with any time factor involved. In fact it was equally likely to culminate in an act of sabotage that was likely to be her death as well.

It took only moments after that to realize that a message by bird or magic was the obvious solution. She wracked her brain for a moment to see if she could think of any likely means she could use to gain access to some magic messaging system. But that truly was time wasted. It was going to require a carrier bird of some sort. But there would be no direct bird all the way to Augiery. She recalled a relay service in Rynmere she'd discovered during a short stay there on her way north. That man owed her a favor for a bit of larceny she'd done on his behalf.

This all struck her as her best bet. She would find a carrier service here and send a message to Augiery via Rynmere. Now it just remained to find a carrier here in Viden. She remembered the Ranger's Lodge where she'd been tasked to do some cleaning not long after first arriving in Viden. It had been very oriented towards outdoorsmanship and survival, with a focus on animal assistance. Perhaps they would have such a service; or know where one could be found. And she was pretty much halfway there already. She could spend the night, claiming she needed the bird to inform her fellow interns at the V-wing of her inability to make it back in time.

Yes, everything was falling together...

[Whisper]

Found half a day's ride north of the city, The Rangers’ Lodge was never quiet. Even during the small hours of the morning, men would drink and sing their way towards warm bliss. Here, restrictions on drinks were not so strongly restricted. The staff were well aware that anyone intelligent enough to become a Ranger was not foolish enough to run naked due to intoxication… or fall asleep in the snow and ice. Most of the clientele of the large building were Viden's workforce who operate beyond the city limits. Generally humans, these men were well-build and just as strong of mind, with enough quips to keep on top of the fast banter which was always present.

Inside its plain wooden exterior, above the constantly roaring fires, sit various trophies from the most exotic and dangerous creatures Northern Idalos has to offer. The Lodge held a competitive atmosphere, which is only further pushed when copious amounts of alcohol is consumed. In some cases, this is nothing more than a battle of wits. but on this evening, tensions were rising a little further, and the staff were preparing for a physical scuffle at the very least. Gambling seemed to be the cause: a young, relatively new Ranger had been accused of cheating at a game of suits mere minutes ago. He was still adamantly denying it, but he was outnumbered and friendless.

More and more found their attention being drawn to the conflict, which was happening somewhere near the main door to the Lodge. Some had recognised the parties, and the veteran Ranger’s support group was growing, as the younger Ranger seemed to sink further and further in on himself. To any of the distant observers, who were mostly watching on with disinterested amusement, it was clear that the young lad wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground.

Then, something was said, and the young man seemed to recover himself, perhaps in anger. And her rose, puffing out his chest in a display of confidence that had many of the observers raising an eyebrow, impressed. It took a lot to be a Ranger - the strongest of constitutions was required, both physical and mental. And this boy was showing his strength in both. The veteran was clearly unimpressed, however, and within seconds the pressure of the heavy tension exploded. With a shout, everyone moved, and the young Ranger found himself lurching forward as a great fist wrapped itself in the collar of his shirt and pulled him over the table.

Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut. But a punch never came. Instead, all he felt was the bitterly cold breeze of the northern winds. Silence reigned over the room, a silence that seemed even louder than the shouting mere moments before. Slowly, one of his eyes twitched open. There, in the open door, stood the bedraggled form of a naer.

Off Topic

So the general syntax of this post is shocking but for some reason that has been happening all day and I genuinely give up with trying to sound all proper and good anymore o.o
This is really just a descriptive entrance for you... and nothing for you to go on! But hey ho, I know you'll flourish regardless, as you knew this was coming!

And I'm sad because this is another special post, just for you - I now match my last post count.

[Linika]

The cold just went on and on, deeper and more intense within her bones as she made her way north. She'd had a good head start just from the details of her task for the V-Wing. She was searching out a particular weed that should have been more prevalent than it was turning out to be. Herbalists had proposed some theories as to why the usual "crop" was not turning up in town. Gardeners were of course, rejoicing over this fact, feeling no regret whatsoever over the lack of this floral pest.

It grew through runners, rather than pollination, and the tips of these runners did not just strangle the flowering buds of the usual decorative garden fare; they actually invaded the bud and transformed the original flower into a hybrid of itself, now sending out invading runners of its own. It was an easy plant to kill however, and theories at the V-Wing, where this weed was highly valued for its alchemical binding capabilities, suggested that so much effort had been made to eradicate this pest that some floral instinct had kicked in, coaxing it to run in a different direction this hot cycle.

Linika had found a few samples before the mist form creature had attacked and she'd gotten the word of the alleged plot against Audrae. But now that her priorities had been changed, that effort was abandoned and she was bound for the Ranger's Lodge in hopes of finding a means of sending a message by way of a carrier bird. She had never actually been there before - well, not inside anyway. The prospect of going inside now was not pleasant either. She had been to this hall once before, with a trio of infirmary representatives before she'd gotten her promotion, to satisfy some formality. But they had paused at the door, taken a quick counsel, and asked her to remain outside, 'for diplomatic purposes'.

She knew what that meant, and had obliged willingly enough then, thinking there was no reason she needed to break any ice with the sorts of folk patronizing such a "rustic" hall anyway. But that option was now off the table, and even worse, she was alone. The one bright side to this was that the others at the V-Wing had no idea how far she might have to go to find "throat-weed", so her story of having to spend the night ought to be received with no serious questions. Especially since she would be returning with some.

As much as she was unafraid of confronting an enemy or two, the din coming from the hall strongly suggested a throng
of them. She approached the door, genuinely yearning for the warmth she could anticipate. She could detect the growing tones of an altercation coming from within, and decided the time was ripe to intrude, when the focus of the patrons would be on a good row. She turned the handle and opened the door, looking quickly for the least conspicuous path she could take to some semi-hidden niche.

The warmth of the air was immediately offset by the cool hush of the crowd as every eye turned her way. She cursed her idiocy in thinking that the rush of cold air from outside would ever go unnoticed in such a place. It would bring scowls to anyone coming in, as the comfortable patrons inside automatically turned to see who the bastard was that was disrupting their warmth. But it was far worse for her, naer, obviously female, attractive, alone, a crowd of riled-up males, and the overriding attitude that any predations committed against her race were justified. This was going to get ugly.

She could see as much lust in the eyes of this crowd as there was loathing. And as much as it disgusted her to consider, the only thing to do that might get her through this bunch was to immediately slink up suggestively to the biggest brute among them. Naer or not, desire would bring him to protect his prospect for a much better time than drinking and gambling with his buddies. She knew she would probably have to sleep with him, or at least leave him with some sort of drugged conviction that he had. But if she could first get him to aid her with a message, she'd make that trade willingly.

Naerikk culture was all about training your body to be both a tool and a weapon. And those parts that served to wield weapons were no less important than those that served as tools to seduce and persuade. For that matter, he might even be a night's enjoyment for her! She targeted such a man immediately. A scowling giant, given ample elbow room despite the crowded suffering of those next to him.

This all flashed through her mind in an instant, and she was already pushing the door closed to ensure that the bolt latched, as the crowd shouted her down as a bitch for opening it in the first place. She turned back and struck a saucy pose. The cold had of course, had the usual effect, and many gazes levelled upon the slight protrusions at the tips of her ample chest. Even more so when she feigned some absent-minded adjustment of her top, accompanied by a subtle hitch of her eyebrows as she slid her way free of her outermost cloak.

It was very much a theater act as she smoothly draped layers of cold weather attire over chairs and laps, sliding her fingers over a shoulder here, a collar there, steadily making her way towards a brawny, blond-haired ruffian, in flannel and fur, whose scowl slowly transformed into a broad grin as their eyes stayed locked on each other. She hummed as she stepped up to him, knowing there was still plenty of hostility in the room, which may even be compounded now by horny jealousy. But she kept her back to the room as she slid an arm under an outer layer of his clothes.

"Oooh, that's so warm." she purred, snuggling in and sneering inwardly as his arm came down to caress her back protectively. She looked up at him, "So what's your name, big fella?"

[Linika]

It did not take long for her to be accepted as the big man's prize for the evening. And in truth, he was warm. It required no effort of deception to appear appreciative of his body heat. And the more she snuggled in, the more her own body heat grew. Seduction and sex were long given as tools of her culture. There was no shame in genuinely enjoying the perks of an evenings intimacy, over and above the strategic gains from the loose tongues that usually accompanied such games. And she was beginning to develop an eagerness for it.

In this case, it was not even really necessary. All she needed was the access to the messenger bird cote. Men were so easy, especially in the far-flung areas, where they outnumbered the women by so many. She told him that she needed to inform her "gentleman friend" that she would not be back in her room for the next few days; that she was on a gathering mission for the infirmary. She slipped in some innuendo about needing to gather some "seed". Obviously there was no intent to place this in the message, but the meaning was clear. She knew that recruiting a male was even easier if he believed he was doing at the expense of another man's "claim".

Big Rayne, as he was called, had her over his shoulder and out the back door in what may have been record time. Cheers and hoots, some of them her own, followed the pair out the door to where the stairs to the upper rooms were. Only her great devotion to Mother Audrae brought back the true intent of her arrival here. She had been entirely ready to dive under the blankets and thaw the ice on the windows with steamy passion.

But she stalled their dalliance with her insistence that she needed to get her message away. There was some brief reluctance from her companion, citing the point that a few bits would make no difference. Linika took a saucy pose, "A few bits? Is that all I'm going to be able to count on?" Her eyes ran up and down his body with teasing disapproval, "and here I had assumed you'd keep me gasping and thrashing all night. I had thought it best that I get this out of the way now, figuring that you'd drive all thoughts of any other men right out of my head."

She turned provocatively back to face the door, letting the unbelted, unsnapped leggings slip to show a finely shaped hip, "Maybe I should go back downstairs and find a real man; one who knows that I'm going to need to get all my important errands out of the way before he sends me off to unending plateaus of wild, screaming pleasure."

Big Rayne looked back with a scowling grin, recognizing the teasing desire plain on the naer's face. "Well, if you don't want to miss out on the 'big event'..." He dropped his own leggings sufficiently to make his meaning clear, and was rewarded by an appreciative bulge of the woman's eyes, "...don't be long."

She gasped with deliberate heat and purred, "I could be all night and not be as long as you." She winked, closed the outer layers of her clothes and hurried to where he'd said the pigeon cote was.

[Linika]

The Pigeon cote was an out building connected to the back of the Ranger's Lodge, but not accessible unless one went outside first. There was no inner door connecting the two units. Nor was anyone present when she went inside. This suited her just fine, as she could compose the message without anyone reading it. She was, after all, still a naer in Viden.

She liberated a strip of message paper and made quick mention of the words the strange man had said to her after he'd rescued her from the misty attacker. She also made mention of the attacking humanoid figure and it's amorphous reach into her throat to solidify and choke her. She rolled this very tightly as she heard the sounds of someone approaching.

The door opened and a bundled-up man appeared. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of her, the door momentarily forgotten as he looked around for signs of a possible ambush before fully entering. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, "No one's allowed in here. especially not one of your kind."

Linika noted an initial hint of hesitation to display the usual prejudice possessed by the average Videnese human. But it bloomed fully into contempt when he realized he was not outnumbered. She immediately adapted an air of humility, but underlay it with a joyful exuberance, as if his attitude had gone unnoticed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know you are right, but it is so cold outside, and I just could not wait to send word to my adoptive mother." She let a grin beam through her feigned attempt to conceal the false excitement she presented. "You see, I am engaged!"

For a moment she was hesitant to flash one of her common rings before the man. Though she enjoyed her ornamentation, her rings were primarily to add damage to any face she felt compelled to punch. But in this case, they served ample purpose. This uncouth boob would not know a truly valuable gem if it was jammed into his eye socket. But what was most important was that it did not matter. Her whole approach was to come off as a fooled-and-forgotten woman, lied to and then dumped after a night's dalliance by Big Rayne, to whom she attributed an alias that this pigeon master would know was false.

When he heard Linika describe Big Rayne as the man who had promised his love to her, along with a ring of promise, and a false name, he would assume the ring was a cheap thing meant to fool a gullible woman in order to bed her. Linika made a point of working the conversation into revealing her "exile" status; adding that it had been based on some silly notion that she could not be trusted with secrets, and how alone she'd been ever since.

This not only led him to conclude that she was not the typical, dangerous, naer; but was also one that her own culture had dumped for obvious reasons of her being clearly on the low end of the intelligence scale. For a moment she saw just a hint of pity in his eyes, and decided she'd taken her "poor, silly girl" act just a bit too far. So she added a comment about how she'd "finally found a man worthy of me in this miserable place" and was rewarded by the immediate drain of anything resembling sympathy from his face.

He now encouraged her to get on with her note, and handed her a tube to roll it up and use with one of his birds' Bewits and Message Tubes. He had just a smirk of amusement on his face, and Linika could only assume that he was silently gloating over Big Rayne's impending conquest of another girl's trust. The truth was, she had no animosity towards Big Rayne at all. Their collective intimacy was purely for pleasure. There had been no real lies on either side, and she fully intended to go back to his room and have her fun.

But this slob was probably imagining her heartbroken and abandoned and felt nothing. But then again, she had deliberately worked his sensitivities that way, so she decided to take no offense. After all, were it not for her racial superiority and the mental advantages it gave her kind over these wretched humans, he might have been warning her of the impending letdown, and that would ruin everything.

So she finished her note, wrapping her core note within the misleading one, thanking him profusely and listing the location of a messenger station in one of the Eastern Settlements of the Island of Rynmere; a place she had found and earned favors with on her way north to Viden from Augiery. She knew this Ryn would pass her note on to relieve himself of his indebtedness to her. And she felt certain that Great Mother Audrae would be pleased with her agent in Viden over this revelation. She felt equally certain that she herself would be quite pleased with the ensuing "bed-sports" she would be engaging in for the next several breaks with Big Rayne. She had no doubt whatsoever that he would be.

[Whisper]

Linika Amarinthine

Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Awarded Knowledge

Aelig: “The Anarchic Mimic”
Lisirra: “Lady of Toxin”
Location: Rangers’ Lodge
Prophecy: Treid’s Downfall
Prophecy: Tell Audrae
Rangers’ Lodge: Carrier Pigeons
Seduction: Getting My Way
Seduction: Misdirection
Smoke: Destroys ‘Shadows’
Syroa: “The Furious Actor”
“The Painted Girl in the Cold”

Extras

Loot & Losses	[/color]xxxxxx	Injuries
None	[/color]xxxxxx	None[/color]

Comments

As always, it was a pleasure to read (and write with you). I never know what I’m going to get, and I hope you feel the same about me. I am very very sad and sorry to have not been around to finish this thread with you. I had such plans.

I wasn’t sure what to do in this Review related to the smoke-shadow thingy, so I tried.. If you have any ideas/changes, fling me a PM

As you can see, I have provided feedback and reasoning behind my review. If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.