Private Tales Candle light and weak constitutions

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Dianaimh couldn't resist a small smile as the grapes were shoved in her direction. Sometimes magic wasn't all that. She nodded a thanks before reaching in to grab some herself. "It's good to see some mortals acknowledging their betters" she said "It makes a change from torches and angry mobs. I can sympathise with the Duchess's tastes rather than her husband's".

Her teeth gritted but she forced tranquility into her mind at the gentle question. "I could claim to not enjoying being tied down..." no, she owed some honesty at least. "Call it an emergency reassignment" and a desire to get as far from Molthal as possible. "I wasn't quite ready for the tropics of Cerak at this time of year, not after leaving the north. I am temporarily bereft of employment"
 
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She quietly wondered what that meant, regarding sympathizing with the Duchess's tastes. It was something that held many meanings but she allowed for it to linger on the vine, preferring the opportunity to infer how she saw fit.

"Cerak was just an example, Lady Dianaimh..." Chrys smiled, though the hint of location in the "north" allowed for some sense of location. But it was a colloquialism, hard to truly pin down. "Is it your intent for this that state of unemployment to eventually become permanent, lingering on 'gig' work, or do you intend to eventually make for permanent settlement?"

She turned back around, resting her chest against the sandstone edge of the bath, as she laid her arms crossed on the ledge. "It's my experience that this sort of employ improves the opportunity to take advantage of wanderlust - if that happens to be your calling." For mages and arcane wielders, the portal stones could give flight for whoever desired it. And having bags of gold and gems didn't hurt in the transition. Nor did it hurt to have a network of connections to catch you on the way down.
 
Dianaimh had worked hard to shake her accent but the harsh carrion sound of the north still tainted some of her vowels. Chrys comments, while politely worded, did make her jaw tighten a little though it was hard to get too angry when lounging in the lap of luxury. The heat made anger too laborious.

"No, I have done the freelance thing before" she admitted, "And I'm not some freshly qualified sorceress desperate for any employment she can find" Dianaimh found such creatures to be little more than a step up from the local medicine woman or village witch.

"I don't like being tied down but having a residence of some sorts or winter quarters is appealing. I find myself craving a library these days. Advising mortals can be so tiresome though, you get blamed when something goes wrong and little when it goes right. They expect us to be able to control the moons and stars!"
 
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Dianaimh may have done her best to hide her instinctual response, but it didn't slip past Chrys. The line of questioning was inadvertently touching on sensitive subjects and she was watching close enough to catch it. It was hard not to. Lifting her hand, she snapped as a faceless figure moved through the bathhouse. It was neither man nor women, and admittedly wasn't even human. Its figure was closer to a shadow, given dimension through magic, and forced to serve.

"Can we get some more ice wine?" The shadow tilted and bowed at the waist before stepping off. Smiling, she looked back to Dianaimh. "It's getting a bit warm over here..." Taking another bite of a grape, she thought once more on the words spoken by the fellow sorceress and, by and large, agreed with the sentiment.

"You are right about that. There are expectations of us that go beyond the common mans understanding. They are grateful for the rain but bemoan the clouds that brought it. Perhaps that is why we delve into something deeper...magic that plays them like the pawns they are. But I supposed I should be more pointed in my question..." Her eyes darted over to the shadow as it headed back up into the Villa to gather another bottle.

"For services rendered, what is your preference for payment?" She had money, she had relics, and libraries and abodes. If she was going to ask Dianiamh to dance with her through the red tape of Sol Terra bureaucracy, it was only fitting that she be willing to bow to respectable requests.
 
Dianaimh looked mildly relieved at the prospect of ice wine. Her pale skin was flushed and the heat was having an effect on her though she was loath to leave the water's heat. Her eyes closed and she smiled as payment was mentioned. Now they were getting down to business.

"Well for a start, I fully intend to enjoy the comforts of the Duchess's estate while I am working on what you need. But payment, well a look through your library would be appreciated, knowledge is power after all. But I really need to know more details and examine the...remains before we haggle over the price"

She slid forward deeper into the water and flashed a grin. "It's the difference you see between catching water" and her cupped hands lifted some up before letting it run through her fingers "And catching steam" her hand made a futile grasp for the vapour before she gave a short laugh and let herself float in the water.

"You have it snared though which is half the fight. The problem is enticing it back in can cause you to lose it. It's hard to beat the pull from the other side when someone passes on. But luckily for you, you met me"
 
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"I suspect luck had nothing to do with it, dear." She mused, amused at the display and conveyance of description. Necromancy was not her forte or even something she had ever really considered practicing. Her power was in obtaining powers from others, transforming it into something more palpable and often times, primal. Whether that be from the more worthless beings who made the mistakes of committing crimes in Sol Terra, from those who found themselves at the misfortune of capture with no power to escape it, or simply those unfortunate enough to cross her.

Though she had found new avenues for pulling power, from the dead and from those who dwelt somewhere else, originating from the abyss. There was entropy all around them and without her and those like her, it simply went to waste.

The shadow stopped near Dianaimh and placed a flute of ice wine down on the sandstone, frosted and chilled to the touch. It turned and did the same for Chrys, placing it on the ground and leaving soundlessly. The sorceress lifted the glass and took a succinct sip before returning her attention to her fellow enchantress. "You may avail yourself of the pleasures of this villa at your leisure, of course. There are some
manuscripts and tomes that are of a personal nature. I would ask that you leave those but otherwise, my resources are yours." Tilting her expression, she examined Dianaimh again.

"I have sent word for the Couturier who should be here by the morning." She wouldn't state how much money that required to get the man to come practically overnight. "Corin Deschamps is quite good, much better than the ducal tailor employed by the Duke. He can be..." She paused. "Quite handsy. But that's only for passion of profession. His...interests...lie elsewhere." She'd leave it at that. It was likely Corin would elucidate his prerogatives fairly early in the session.
 
Dianaimh didn't bother arguing more over the terms. A mage's collection was their own and frequently jealously guarded. She'd traded charms and incantations with rivals and copied down spells and lists off others while they stood over her shoulder on guard. There were some things Chrys would probably deny the very existence of, let alone give them to her. Fair enough, Dianaimh was the exact same.

"Oh I intend to" she said as she was told she could enjoy the villa. There was something to be said for the comforts of life after several weeks on the road. She was looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn't have to be scoured for lice.

"I hope he won't be here at the crack of dawn" blissfully ignorant of what Chrys had paid to ensure that he'd come posthaste. "Now I suppose you have more than spoilt me" she had to reluctantly give that to her. "How strong is this snare then?"

Standing, she slugged down a gulp of the wine and gave an appreciative sigh. "I could lie here all day but I suppose I should sing for my supper. Do you wish for me to have a look at it tonight?"
 
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Chrys let out a complementary sigh, stifling a groan that would have betrayed her desire to linger in the bathhouse for a bit longer. Seemed a shame to waste the drink and company on expedient gulps but she did have to admire Dianaimh's drive. She came here to work and earn the pleasures of the villa. That was respectable.

Taking a slower drink of the ice wine, to completion, she nodded in view of the fellow sorceress. "It pains me that you should don your travelers clothes again before they've been...cleaned." She crinkled her nose as she set down the glass and was greeted by a servant with towel. Stepping out of the bath, she wrapped herself at the waist and gestured to the locker room. "There are some spare casual and night clothing, nothing too elegant but it should fit your form just fine. If that's your preference, please help yourself."

Bending down, she grabbed the fine ware and the now empty tray of grapes from the bath. "I'll give you a moment. Once you're ready, lets meet upstairs in the sitting room. The laboratory and appurtenant features are towards the back of the villa - it's a bit of a maze."

The tower wasn't of her concocting, but one of an older construction. Something of a repurpose that didn't match the aesthetic of the Duke and Duchess. As such, it had been partially obscured by the Vineyard to further obscure its purpose. "It won't be the crack of dawn but Corin is quite punctual and hates to displease. He'll be prompt so we shall be as well - no proper work tonight, just a look."

She gave a knowing smirk before turning to head upstairs, leaving wet footprints behind her.
 
Dianaimh was torn between stubborn pride and agreeing with her hostess. Reason won out though as stubborn pride would result in her donning lice ridden threadbare mud soaked clothing. She took a proffered towel without even looking at the servant. "Thank you, I will"

She gave Chrys a few moments headstart before choosing to dress herself in some of the offered clothing. The sizes on offer were suitable enough. A few whispered words and threads magically tightened or loosened where needed to make a better fit.

A pair of fur slippers completed her look and with a last wistful look at the bath, she padded upstairs to join her in the sitting room. "No proper work but I wouldn't be able to sleep without having at least a look at this enigma" she admitted, wine might have loosened her tongue. That and genuine interest in an art she'd studied for many a year.
 
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