Hi all — Please put in carousing and intersession role-playing for session G85.
Seff's follower returns to Homlett with the party, disappointed, bothered, and uncertain. She retreives a bundle of wrapped parchment and knicknacks from Gundigoot, the inn's proprietress, she has kept with the mountain of a woman for safe keeping. When dawn comes, she heads into the wilderness, not too far from the village homes, dressed without her armor. She selects and kneels before a sturdy oak, its branches spreading nakedly overhead in the winter sky. She feels its bark, the mass of wooden life beneath it, the accumulation of years of life, its tremendous power, and the fact that it is, in these December days, all but dead, waiting for spring. She takes something from her pack, in time.
Copied in her own hand, this is a the eleventh copy of the eleventh of the third version of the Per aplecandu-se de la sulita. First written by Bethanie terr la Chêne - whose bones reside in an unnamed vault in the capital's Great Temple of Trianoma, charred by acid and hellfire, but not a spot broken - the essay details the way the ancient spearmaiden's superhuman eyes caught the way a spear in flight bends and flexes as it travels, and how it even writhes and stabs in close combat. That, namely, this character is constitutional to the usual straight and narrow of the instrument.
Audrey nearly lost her life in an eagerness to destroy chaos. In her youthful inexperience, she would have plunged for Lareth, and died. The goddess cannot make a sapling into a tree. Not in an instant. And blind strikes, random fervor, weapons thrown into the wind, immature rashness, should not be confused for valor or wisdom.
Seff tells her Lareth is not hers to slay. She cannot accompany the party to make the kill. The goddess, she feels, is pleased she did not lose her head - figuratively, followed by literally - but feels she has not fully learned the lesson. Years, it will take. There will be other Lareths.
She recites the Per aplecandu-se as the day passes, and darkness falls.
Pritchard will confer at length with Rufus and Berne. The defense of Omelette is paramount, and he will endeavor to impress upon them the grave threat that Lareth and her remaining troops represent. He will pledge to help save the village in any way he can, and offer them his full loyalty.
Meanwhile, he will write a letter to Blanchfleur at Malinbois, asking for her advice. The spring thaw is not so far away as he would like, and he must find some way to mollify Evangelista. Yet the acquisition of gold to pay her back cannot be his priority while Chaos threatens the Principalities. He will point out that, as Caurenze is so close to Darokin, that losing it now would be a terrible blow to the war effort, and how badly his skills are required in Omelette. He wishes to know if she has any advice or instructions.
Note: This is not carousing, merely information gathering.