Private Tales Candle light and weak constitutions

Callisto · Jan 15, 2020

The influence of Alliria bled out like a slashed vein, oozing across the Allir Reach flatland that spanned from strait to open ocean. Crisscrossed by meandering waters and bordered by substantial rivers, the territory was primed for all manner of idiots and charlatans, deigning to claim a piece of land and call it their own. Fiefdoms, kingdoms, and duchy sprouted up and festooned the lands in hollow attempts to assert some sort of domain. It was pointless; the money all flowed across the bridge between the reach and the Savannah. Always through Alliria.

This was particularly the case for the ducal lands of Sol Terra. Fancy men with fancy clothes, women with large hair, and grape farms that spread out across the endless acres of sun drenched territory. Nestled in the heart of the Allir Reach, it would have made the trip almost worth it to see the sun set across the battlements towering far above the cobbled streets of the sprawling town.

But that wasn’t where Chrys had found herself. No, quite the contrary. Blocks of granite towered upwards nearly ten feet and formed canals that spanned in every direction. Cells were forced in nooks of the walls, contained by wrought iron bars that twisted along the length of the shaft. Lighting was poor and likely intentional, formed by metal clasped torches that extended from the walls like waving hands that had been frozen in time. She thought on the men who saw it, dragged in fetters with bloodied feet, and found a form of amusement in the notion of iron being the last thing they would ever know.

“Fuck.”

“Lady Carmine. I...uhh...I must inform you.” The dungeon keeper smiled meekly, hands wringing back and forth. He wore a butchers apron that was surprisingly supple and well kept. But he hunched like an old man, which was undoubtedly the result of an absence of spine. It was all ribs and skin holding this one together. “Should...he die...there will be no payment.”

“He’s already dead.” Chrys admitted, popping her knuckles in frustration. Burnt sulfur muted as she narrowed her gaze, inspecting the row of seven crystals. They were roughly cut and held in wooden stands fashioned from old bowls. Two of the seven crystals were glowing orange and the other five were as dead as the man that sat before them, strapped to the iron chair. His discomfort, prior to her arrival, had been immense. That was clear from the marks across his back that indicated the utilization of a Judas Chair.

“Ahh…” He replied, running his fingers through the greasy mustache that concealed his top lip. “Then I must inform the Duke of this most unfortunate happenstance.”

“Clementine…”

“It’s Clement, Madame.”

She held up a hand dismissively. “I don’t care. If I wanted shit, I would have sifted through the privy. Now.” She turned, clamping her hands together and holding them just at waist height. “I assume you keep a rookery?”

The man paused for a moment, overwhelmed by the act of independent thought. After some time, he joyously returned from his mental impotence and nodded.

“Good. Please take this.” She pulled out a miniature scroll and handed it to the man. “Have them attach it to a raven and send it, no destination. Please and thank you.”

“No destination?” He uttered, turning the scroll over and over.

“Thank you.” She waved dismissively as she turned, inspecting the crystals. What the man would likely not notice as he departed was that the scroll was enchanted. The raven would be guided to the nearest Necromancer, gifted with a particularly dark talent. Chrys had no time or patience to deal with this dead man and his weak constitution.

She only hoped that whomever the raven found, they were suitable to the revival of a man with only five sevenths of his soul tossing about in the ether.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Jan 20, 2020

Ravens had an affinity for the dead.

They were like all carrion, drawn to it whenever they sensed the prospect of a feast. It made them the perfect servants for necromancers. One soul could dominate an entire murder of crows. They served as scouts, spies, familiars, messengers. Dianaimh never failed to toss a few crumbs when she saw one. It always paid to have them on your side.

She was in the Allir Reach to peddle her wares. Doing the sort of petty cantrips and potions that a hedge witch got by on. Appalling, poorly paid, and frankly quite embarrassing. She'd been run out of two villages by illiterates and narrowly avoided being lynched in a third. Still, a beggar couldn't be a chooser.

The harsh caw caught her attention and she turned from tending to her mule. The raven was perched on a branch and half bowed its head to her. "Well hello darling" she purred, moving to fetch a crust for it. Her eyes caught sight of the scroll and an eyebrow raised in question, "For me?".

She held out the crust to it, her hands moving to detach the scroll. As summons went, it was unconventional. At least the method of delivery guaranteed it wasn't a warrant.

Callisto · Jan 20, 2020

She felt a shiver run down her spine, followed by a sudden onset of goosebumps. Hugging herself tightly, she watched as the sun sank along the horizon. The giant orb was a beautiful hue of xanthic, outlined in a nearly imperceptible ring of crimson. The sky was purple, streamed with elongated clouds of rose and red underbellies. As the sun tarried in the distance, long shadows were cast from the vineyard stakes as farmhands rushed about to finish their tasks.

She spied a child moving quickly behind a wagon just as the wheel came loose. Tumbling, the wagon dug its tail end into the mud and the child tripped afterwards. The Sorceress lifted a hand to her mouth and did her very best to present herself in a demure reflection, absent the joy brought about by watching a child fall over.

Clementine cleared his throat with a deep cough.

"Yes?" She turned to look at the man, almost dismissively.

"Madame, the Duchess has requested your..." He coughed once more. "Your company."

"Oh has she now?"

"Yes, Madame. For evening tea."

Evening tea. Chrys smiled at the attempt of being clandestine while also ordering the steward about to deliver said messages. The Duchess, once the ere to this throne, was a bit older than the Duke. She also happened to be part of the reigning blood line which, up until her forced marriage by the duchy, would have led her to directly ruling over Sol Terra.

As it turned out, the Duchess wasn't a particularly faithful companion. And, as it also turns out, her preferences lied in places far removed from dandies, powdered wigs, and the occasional testosterone filled war heroes in over polished armor. It seemed a flowing dress and low cut shawl was what the Duchess had ordered.

"Please tell her that work comes before tea." And no one wanted something that was always given for free. "Also, please inform the local guard that my message has been delivered. I believe the help we need should be here presently."

"Yes, Madame. I will do so immediately."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Jan 21, 2020

"If it wasn't for the fact you can carry things, you'd be ash by now" Dianaimh warned her mule. The beast ignored her, plodding along at its own pace, heedless of the occasional smack she gave to its side. How the mighty had fallen. She was no stranger to walking but she still craved the old days where a docile palfrey or cushioned carriage were her choice.

No torches and pitchforks this time. Or a pursuing army. Dianaimh had been in enough retreats to know she didn't want to experience another. Still, the road beckoned and on she marched.

The traffic increased the closer she got ot civilisation. There was a rush by the gates between those hoping to reach their farms and those seeking entry before nightfall and the gate shutting. Dianaimh waited with barely concealed impatience. She'd hate to have come all this way only to be forced to spend the night outside the gates.

There was always a doubled guard for the hour before and after dawn and dusk. The main one here overshadowed Dianaimh by a head. She still managed to look like she was looking down her nose at him though. Proffering the scroll, she sniffed as the stench of manure wafted by the breeze. "I am answering a summons from the castle" she explained haughtily though this one did seem to have his letters.

Callisto · Jan 21, 2020

The guards, pretending to read over the scroll as if they could actually read at all, looked quickly for the insignia from the Duchy and the steward. Once laying eyes on it, they nodded to the woman and grunted towards one another. Their accents were thick, like someone had dressed up split pea soup and were now playing it off as fanciful. There was a reason, after all, that they might have been assigned to guard duty in the first place...

~~~

"Madame..." The man uttered as the woman stood against a stone column, looking out from the portico. A flight of stairs bled out before her into an open courtyard of finely trimmed hedges. Rows of rose and nasturtiums blossomed openly, lit by the dancing torchlight of the nearby fires. Between them, cleaned sandstone cobble guided various paths through the simple maze that preceded the castle.

"Yes?"

"Someone approaches on the foreroad. Dressed in an...odd fashion. Surely not our usual customs. Surely not."

"Surely not." She repeated, raising an eyebrow and lifting her tone playfully. Chrys figured it was her necromancer. Having received the raven, they had come. Though for what purpose, that was far less clear. Unless it was simply for a paycheck and that very notion, alone, drew Chrys to groan before flicking her hand dismissively at Clementine. "Invite them in, I will meet with them in the white hall."

He covered his mouth and coughed.

"What is it?" She returned.

"They have a mule."

A smile grew on the sorceresses lips and for a moment, the flash of pearly teeth might have implicated it as something genuine. "Of course they do. Well...I shall meet them in the livery. Where we keep the mules."

~~~

"Come on then...we don't have all day." One of the guards yelled, waving the Necromancer on. "Take your bovine beast to the stables. You will be received there."

There, Chrys would be waiting.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Jan 24, 2020

Dianaimh did her best not to combust while she waited. The accents were thick enough that she had trouble actually understanding what they were saying. She flashed her teeth as the scroll was returned, stalking past the guards and tugging her mule along. "Equine" she hissed to herself in correction.

Received in a stables. Dianaimh had seen a lot of things in her life but not a formal reception amidst horseshite and hay. She took her mood out on the four legged beast trotting behind her. "When I have no further need of you, you will be skinned and the rest of you given to the knackermen" she warned the mule, "Unless you learn obedience. I'm not even sure you understand the damn word".

Her nose would have found the stables even if she'd been blind. She was a little out of breath by the time they reached it, the whole town seemed to be sloping uphill towards the castle. She was an odd sight, the aristocrat in travel worn and patched clothes, looking more like a travelling peddler than a sorceress.

She took in a deep breath, studying the castle for a moment before she tugged the mule on. She could see others were eyeing her from the stable entrance, enjoying the sight of her slogging towards them.

Callisto · Jan 27, 2020

The Enchantress flared her nostrils as she entered the livery. Bits and pieces of saddles rested against wrought iron hooks, suspended from wooden beams that were likely prepared for various saddle constructions. Perhaps someone was a bit smaller, was looking for a reduced pommel and horn. Another was likely far shorter and they had adjusted the blevins, bringing the stirrups far closer to the saddle back. Chrys even spied a saddle setup that had a lower angled cantle, which was odd given the likely discomfort it caused.

Perhaps it was for punishment, she thought. Or maybe training.

The livery stable smelled of various tones. Those tones includes horses, breeding, mildew and straw, mud, shit, and the general scents of beasts. It was filled with the quiet sounds of horses breathing, the swooshing of tales, and the not so quiet sounds of farm hands working the stable doors. One was stuck in a particularly stubborn fashion and an elderly man was working furiously to rub in pitch between the teeth of the hinges.

It was not where one would expect to find a meeting of magicians. Particularly if one knew they were both women of a certain taste for luxury. It went without saying that Chrys hated every moment leading up to this, every moment within, and every moment that passed thereafter where she carried the smell of the place.

As the necromancer would eventually enter the stable, she would find Chrys standing clearly irritated and with hands crossed over her chest.

"Not 100 paces into this hold and already, that beast of yours has gravely inconvenienced me..." She uttered coldly. "I'm not likely to get the smell of shit from this shawl, not without a proper elbowing."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Feb 2, 2020

Dianaimh stepped into the stable, give her grumpy mule a last tug on the reins. Her eyes met those of the woman waiting for and Dianaimh drew herself up to her full height. The imperious effect she was going for was somewhat tarnished by the well worn and travel stained clothing. Her first impressions about the other woman were proven correct.

It didn't matter that Dianaimh would have ordinarily agreed with her on her description of the mule. What mattered was that it was her mule and if anyone was going to be insulting it, it would be damn well her! She sniffed and brought her chin up, "Somehow I doubt that you'll be the one working to get the smell out of it"

She brought the mule over to one of the stalls and busied herself with removing her belongings. The animal seemed happy enough to stand there and chew on some feed. Dian gritted her teeth to heft one particularly heavy load off, sighing in relief once she got it on the ground. "And if the smell inconveniences you, then you should take better care of your stables"

She gave the mule an uncharacteristically affectionate pat on the head before ushering it into one of the stalls. She turned and stood with her hands on her hips, "Now two possibilities, either you're the one who summoned me or the stablemistress"

Callisto · Feb 2, 2020

She smiled warmly, flashing her pearly white teeth, with every ensuing insult. Particularly the comment regarding the stable-mistress, which was rewarded with a thinning of her lips and drop of her arms from her chest. Letting a moment pass, perhaps to give the inclination towards the gravity of the insults, she crossed her hands at waist height and steepled her fingers.

"Oh very good, darling. Very good." She nodded. "You have all the banter of a proper Enchantress. Of course, your current state of affairs..." She thought she might gesture towards the dregs this one likely considered clothing. Or the way she came about in unkempt fashions. Or the fact that she was walking a mule across this land. But she didn't need to go through the effort. It was clear that bitterness didn't just stem from academic installment. "Imply you have fallen on hard times."

She titled her head, investigating the woman a bit further. "You're quite pretty and your garment doesn't hide that figure of yours..." She began to approach, sizing the woman up. "But you still have the appearance of squalor. Which either means you are a terrible enchantress, you are prideful and unwilling to sell skin for coin, or you are quite good at the arcane and your craft is simply outlawed in this area."

Stopping before the woman, Chrys lifted a hand to her mouth and thought. "Now, do you intend to continue to try, feebly I might, at insulting the one who intends to offer you coin for your unorthodox abilities? Or would you prefer to get down to business?"

Food, clothing repairs, supplies, coin, and facilities. All available for the proper agreement.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Feb 12, 2020

Dianaimh restrained the urge to scream. No of course I've fallen on hard times, do you think I go waltzing about villages dragging the grumpiest mule in Arethil with me for fun?! She endured the woman's evaluation of her with a sulky expression, folding her own arms and settling for a smouldering gaze.

Her mouth dropped open a little at the mention of selling skin. Mild consolation in that she thought she was good enough for it, severe indignation at the implication that she'd stoop so low. She shut her mouth again, gritting teeth, and forcing down any negativity.

"I am willing-" the tone forced, the words like ice, "to hear your proposition. You summoned, I came". A beggar could not afterall be a chooser.

Callisto · Feb 14, 2020

Chrys eyed the woman, unburdened by subtlety or nuance. She was particularly unhurried in the process, dragging out a bit of silence between the moment the necromancer responded and when she would deign to respond in turn. A mare neighed in the background, swishing its tail playfully, as she spied a particular stable boy walking across the courtyard with a bale hoisted on his shoulders. Two robins chirped and bounced gingerly above, moving from wooden beam to scaffolding to the exterior soffit. A couple of children ran by the entrance, chasing a pair of chickens that had escaped their wooden pen en route to the castle kitchen.

Genuflecting, if not admiring the smoldering gaze paired with the frigid tones of the woman, Chrys finally offered the necromancer a smile. A surprisingly warm smile. Admittedly, Chrys would have preferred a bit more fight to the engagement, a bit more recalcitrance to her revocation of higher authorities in place of her own. But the Necromancer was right; Chrys had called and so she came.

"I am known as Lady Carmine to the Duchy of Sol Terra, consult to the Duke and Duchess...among...other things." She didn't need to go on about the vying for attention, not quite yet. But this particular empire was ensnared in her web as both ruling monarchs were making attempts at sordid affairs, behind each others back. If she were being honest, it would have made more sense to share a single bed chamber rather than two. But she preferred things a bit more volatile. It added to the flavor.

"When we are on better terms, which undoubtedly we will be in the very near future, you will come to know me as Chrys." She managed with stoic conviction, casting aside any doubt of her future intent. "But until then, Lady Carmine will work. Now." Her expression turned to one of calculation. "The Chamberlain will undoubtedly not allow you to enter the household without doing something about this." Chrys gestured with a circular movement of her finger towards the woman's outfit. "They have customs. Painfully tedious and trite but..." She paused. "Perhaps to our benefit right now. You will have to bathe, you will have to powder and be made up as a proper member of the court. Your dress will be taken and replaced with something of more typical custom to the Duchy and they will repair, hem, and tailor your current outfit. It seems to do business in this world, we must first endure pleasure...And this is not my proposition. This is the cost of doing business. Consider it...an investment."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Mar 30, 2020

Dianaimh inclined her head in acknowledgement as the other pronounced her title. It made sense. One could be dressed in finery but only someone born to it could carry themselves accordingly. She knew it was true for herself and it was true for this noblewoman.

She counselled the duke and duchess? Among other things no doubt. Dian had seen several of her kind ensconce themselves in positions of power. Mages weren't the most popular but a particularly smart or cunning one could ensure they were the power behind the throne.

"A pleasure" politeness above all "Lady Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal at your service". There was a distinct lack of other titles after her introduction. "Naturally. I'd hate to appear to them in my travel worn condition. I have other dresses than this, I find it best to appear a simple witch when on the road, there is no need to repair these".

She flashed Chrys a smile though it didn't quite reach her eyes, "A bath sounds divine". A sigh as she cast her eyes back at her moody mount, "I trust my mule will be allowed stay here?"

Callisto · Nov 6, 2022

That wasn't the response she expected, particularly the concern over the mule. But the fact that Dianaimh seemed to be so welcoming towards the matter of being made up, Chrys couldn't help but conjure a warm and somewhat authentic smile. Perhaps a more authentic one than she had shown so far.

"Of course. Not likely to take it to the bath chambers, now are we? Now, let's be on our way. If I have to smell horse shit for one more moment, I'm liable to have a conniption." With that and a mild flare of her robes, she steepled her hands over her waist and turned to leave the stables. She assumed the sorceress would come in tow.

"Bring your things, darling. And if you need assistance...we can find a stable boy to assist you." It should have been fairly obvious that she wasn't likely to volunteer.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 7, 2022

Dianaimh kept her own smile plastered on her face. Long a master of faking it, she wondered if the other was doing the same. Mages of all sorts tended to be prickly. They argued and lorded it over each other, denouncing kindred spirits as fools, charlatans, and talentless morons. But they had far more in common with each other than those without the gift. The few minutes of chatting with Lady Carmine wouldn't have raised eyebrows at a conclave or gathering of their kind.

"No, I shan't be doing that" she responded, grabbing at some of her belongings. "I-" a grunt as she hefted it "- am not about to trust some rustic boor with my personal effects". She nearly shuddered at the thought of their unclean hands pawing at it.

She cast an appreciative eye around their surroundings as Chrys led the way. "Actually Lady Carmine, it would be remiss of me not to accept some hospitality. I should at the very least examine the dresses on offer"

She wasn't desperate but only a fool turned down an opportunity.

Callisto · Nov 8, 2022

That didn't get any sort of physical response as Chrys was busy focusing on the poorly lit path, stone with mounted brazier of burning embers, that would lead from the stables to the pavilion and up the stairs to her villa. But she respected that response, or really both of the responses, as it aligned fairly close to her own perspective. It also spoke of a certain air, as if Dianaimh may have once been a bit more elevated than her current standards might suggest. Which either means she was in hiding or had, in fact, fallen on hard times.

A jab that maybe hit a bit too close to home.

"I would think less of you if you did not want to examine them, Lady Dianaimh..." She looked over her shoulder as she began to walk up the alabaster staircase, gripping the railing. "The Couturier will require your input on the matter."

The stairs led upwards, one flight, to an open patio that was covered by a gabled roof. The interior was lit brightly with gold sconces, mounted along the thick beams of wood, shining the casually decorated area with an orange glow. The entrance way gave a view, though dark of night, of the vineyard and railings of grapes that were yet to be harvest. Chrys approached one of the many tables and lifted a decanter, filling a small clipper glass with a red wine. Setting it down, she filled another and placed the decanter back on the silver plate.

She offered one glass to Dianaimh. "A sweet winter wine...rare in these parts. The sommelier is quite fond of this vintage."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 9, 2022

"Well I am sure your Couturier is more than up to the task" Dianaimh allowed with reluctance. "I must confess to not being up with this season's trends in Alliria" out in the Allir Reach they were probably still on last year's fashions. She wasn't going to make the mistake of using enchantments for a gown either. As a novice she had fallen afoul of it when the loss of a moment's concentration had resulted in an embarrassing exposure and exile to the libraries for three months.

The profferment of the wine seemed to make her back straighten and a certain nobility seemed to settle on Dianaimh. Luggage lowered, she swirled the glass a little and inhaled the scent with a sigh. "By the gods if you see some of the swill they sell as wine on the road" she murmured, dropping her guard for a second. She took a slow savouring sip, eyes closed before focusing back on Chrys.

"Thank you for the wine". Courtesies done, she cocked her head to the side. "Am I to assume you're Elbion trained? You don't look like you're from Vel Anir" the battlemages priding physical strength as well as magical "And I doubt you're some shaman from the Blightlands or the Steppes." Trying to guess an age was pointless. Lady Carmine could be millenia old or even a century younger than Dianaimh, you never could tell with mages.

Callisto · Nov 9, 2022

"You're welcome." She replied, taking some pleasure with the sight of another enjoying the benefits of the estate. The location, while not directly connected to the Duchy, was generally a place of ease, comfort, and relaxation. While the Duke or Duchess visited, the line between pleasure and profession blurred but otherwise, Chrys was left to her own devices. Of course, so long as she wasn't being called back to Cerak At'Thul. "This estate prides itself in the wine produced from these lands. It is quite good." She said as she took another sip.

"It is quite the mystery, isn't it? One not so easily unraveled by a sip of wine." She smiled as she set the glass down, dodging the question for a moment as she steepled her fingers and began to pace around Dianaimh. "Your skin..." She started. "It's like porcelain. And your hair, dark as a raven, is quite the compliment to the rest of your appearance. Truthfully, crimson and gold are the colors of Sol Terra but based on what I'm seeing? Blue and silver, accents of mauve." She circled back around, doing her best to not touch the dusty garments of the necromancer. "We'll select some jewelry to compliment, fabrics of silk and velvet. They like to see animal fur but it's far too fucking hot for that!"

She laughed as she came back around. "Oh yes. They'll be quite of fond of you with that sort of mix. Of course, you're free to make changes as you see fit...but I would recommend a cut that is endearing but not too flirty or revealing, though I am never one to disarm a woman of her agency. But the last thing we need is for you to catch the eye of either of those two." She paused, fingers pressing against her chin. "And I've never found much value in sticking with the style of Alliria. As soon as something is in fashion, it's no longer in fashion. Best to stay ahead of it."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 11, 2022

Sorceress or no, Dianaimh was still vulnerable to flattery and she temporarily forgot her interrogation as Chrys circled her like a shark, peppering her with compliments. "Well I wouldn't say-I suppose yes it is" it was hard not to preen like a peacock.

"No, of course not" she said, biting back any discomfort. She'd spent enough of her youth in furs to not want to replicate it today. The compliments and flattery were very welcome of course but she wasn't fresh out of the college so reality at some point did come back to intervene.

"Could you perhaps enlighten me as to why exactly we are dressing up? And as for all this charity, forgive me if I am doubtful that it is just a courtesy extended to any members of the sisterhood that you meet on the road?"

You never looked a gift horse in the mouth but you could ask a few questions. Dianaimh drank some more of the wine. It certainly had an appealing taste though the thought of poison had never even crossed her travel weary mind.

Callisto · Nov 12, 2022

Chrys smiled and gestured with a roll of her hands outward, as if in the reverse of scratching a cat's chin with her finger nails. "Well, the land of Sol Terra has laws that require registration with the Dukedom in order to perform magic. It's a royal decree, albeit an entirely useless one. It is considered a crime to practice absent that Duke's seal, though generally I have found that this is a very easy thing to skirt by."

She sighed as she crossed her arms. "But we will play the dutiful sorceress for the time being. Compliance with these laws helps to provide a sense of trust among the region, which we can use to our advantage." One hand unfolded from her chest to gesture towards Dianaimh with a hand adorned with a serpentine ring. "And they will not respond well to...this." She was referring to Dianaimh's current clothing. "No offense."

Leaning over to fill her glass once more, she took a sip and eyed the woman like a shark might eye a pool of blood. "You have everything you need to easily pass muster so we will do every little bit extra to make sure it comes to fruition. Besides, it's not my money, so I am more than happy to spend it on whatever I desire."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 16, 2022

Dianaimh's annoyed expression and dismissive hand wave showed just what she thought of such laws. One might as well wish the wind not to blow or the sky not to rain. "This Duke must be a busy man to oversee all mages in his realm" she commented.

Thankfully Lady Carmine seemed to be of similar mind. It wouldn't be the first time Dianaimh had played along either. It took some impressive self control to resist reducing some upstart noble to ash and play along like a biddable sorceress. "My present attire has helped me in the past but I have agreed to change" she said, were they to be dazzling trophies for the duke to show off?

"That does answer my immediate question but why exactly am I here dear sister? I don't like to presume it's only charity saw you pluck me from my travels on the road"

A slow savouring sip of the wine and a breathy exhale. By the gods it was good to taste quality again. "But I also do enjoy spending others finances"

Callisto · Nov 21, 2022

She seemed to purr as she took another sip of her wine, contemplating the comments and questions from Dianaimh. It was good that they were on the same page, in certain ways, though the nature of the corvid born message was still left as intentionally mysterious. Chrys didn't make it a habit of flashing all her wares on the second cup, but a hint at the context might help to coax out the preparation process. They were a ways away from where she wanted to be.

"I was attempting a new type of magic. Dissecting the soul, if you will. And unfortunately the specimen up and...well, died in the middle of it. Quite selfishly I might add." She smiled, perhaps giving more notions of her perspective than she had originally planned. But wine did help to loosen tongues. "I need you to help bring him back so that I might try again. Preferably before my soul snare evaporates." Last thing she needed was the old codgers spirit dancing off into the ether before it's put to good use.

Setting down the cup, she rested her hand on her hip and smirked. "Now..." Just then, a bell jostled over the entry way that led into the villa. "Ah." Sulfur gaze lifted upwards. "The bushels of flowers are here to scent the water. Should help to get rid of the stable aromas."

Moving passed Dianaimh, Chrys moved into the entry way. "Take your time with the view, darling. But I've got an appointment with an inordinate amount of hot water and rose oil and it simply hates to wait on me."

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 24, 2022

Necromancy. Now her curiousity was piqued. Her newfound companion might not be giving everything away. She listened with deep interest but bit back questions as Lady Carmine indicated she wished to bathe. The soul snare must be strong enough if she intended to cleanse herself before hand.

"This does sound an appropriate use of my talents" she admitted, savouring the last bit of her wine. "I'll be sure to take up that offer of hot water as well" she said as the other witch moved for the doorway. "Meanwhile I'll ponder best on how to entice that soul back into its form"

Reanimation was something even a novice could manage with enough practice, toying with the spirit world was where the real challenge was and the real power. Not surprisingly, it was also where many budding necromancers met an early end. Dianaimh looked forward to it with surprising enthusiasm as she headed for her own bath.

Callisto · Nov 25, 2022

The Villa, itself, was warmly lit. Cloth and tapestries hung decoratively, catching the occasional vineyard wind as it cut through the largely open construction of the abode. The middle floor, which connected to the balcony and deck through an open archway, seemed to be largely devoted to leisure, entertainment, and the various pursuits of pleasure. The smell of fresh cardamom and baked pastries wafted through, as if the kitchen was in constant use. There was a social room with recessed tables and furniture, a dining area, breakfast room, and a room for office work. The top floor was dedicated to the night, with several rooms and a master bedchamber.

Taking the spiral staircase down, the villa seemed to go subterranean to a place that was defined by long reaches of sandstone, high archways, and circular limestone columns. The first one was a place for storage and preparation, with multitudes of cubbies and places to store clothing. There were benches and seating areas for leisure, followed by a room that opened up into several large communal bath areas.

Steam was the first thing to greet anyone who entered, followed by the subtle tones of chrysanthemums, rose water, and the occasional spritz of cinnamon. Despite this area being continuously fed by a hot spring, there was not a single tone of sulfur in the air. Chrys had made sure of that when she convinced the Duchess to build this Villa for her and set aside the property for vacations. And much to Chrys' occasional entertainment, this was one of the Duchess's favorite places to venture. The attention helped to pay the bills, no expenses were spared.

Hot spring water poured out from wall mounted animal busts, topped by statues of various designs, regions, and gender. The rooms were lit with orange fires, burning in oval mounts of brass and gold. Occasionally, a servant could be seen, moving about and working to maintain the pristine nature of the bath and spa.

Chrys had already made herself comfortable, resting against the ledge of one of the baths as her feet kicked out into the water. With nothing on but a contented expression, even removing her jewelry for fear of tarnishing, she rested in the heat of the room and the smells. In a golden bowl, she picked at some grapes, as she set her cheek on the sandstone ledge. It was cool to the touch, despite the radiant warmth from the spring.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal · Nov 26, 2022

Despite her initial resentment, Dianaimh found herself enjoying the villa. Thoughts idly crossed her mind of investing in such a property, quickly dashed when she reminded herself that lingering too long anywhere was a recipe for disaster.

Quelling feelings of longing was essential for a lady in her line of work.

The scents were a delight on her nose as she entered the bathing area. The heat was pleasing and she needed little encouragement to strip off her rags and enter the water. The initial touch to the hot water nearly made her yelp but she persevered and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped her as she sank in.

"By the gods" she allowed herself admit, "That was worth the road for". A rare moment of honesty but she closed her eyes and savoured the feeling on her skin for a few moments. "The Duchess provides all this for you?"

Callisto · Nov 27, 2022

Chrys allowed a soft smile as she turned, placing the bowl of grapes in the water. It began to wobble as she pushed it forward, allowing it to drift over to Dianiamh. Placing her elbows on the edge of the bath, with her back pressed against it, her yellow gaze drifted towards the ceiling. It had once been ornately decorated in hand carvings and paintings. While the remnants were there, the stain of time had allowed a sense of antiquity to steep into the bathhouse.

"Well, it's not without restitution of course. But yes..." She thought for a moment on how it all began. "Truthfully, it began as a gift from the Duke. But as it turns out, he prefers his mountain home on the Spine. The Duchess, however, enjoys dewey grass fields, ice wine and a more...tender touch."

She exhaled as her gaze drifted back down to the fellow mage. "Tell me, Lady Dianaimh...why do you resort to a transient lifestyle? There are many kingdoms and empires in need of permanent arcane consort. Hell, I've served several between here and Cerak At'Thuul. Since you are obviously replete of charm and skill alike, I can only assume that it's something else...a choice?"