And So Magic Beckons

[Kobaalt]

He jarred to life, his head spinning wildly as he turned savagely in the grass of the Unseelie graveyard, still crouched down in a defensive position. His head swam and dizziness overtook him as he felt a weakness wash over his form. Even in a low position he staggered and tumbled to the ground. He groaned, wiping his eyes with his knuckles, freeing them from the dust and dirt that clung to his eyelashes. His whole body was covered in dirt and soil, his chainmail was stiff from rust. The Goblin Blades dual sabers were still sheathed in an X shape across his back and the Flaming Sword of the Vulcan was attached to his hip, still ablaze with the magical fire that burned upon its blade. For some reason he doubted the scabbards on his back were still in good enough condition to hold his sabers so he drew them, using them to help him stand. With the blades in each hand he studied the scabbard that held the Flame Sword, the magical sheath undoubtedly still in good condition.

He looked around slowly. The last thing he remember was being run through by the ex-King Narichter and seeing nothing but blackness. A trance had followed the Shining fae’s blow but for some reason Kobaalt felt as though the awakening he was experiencing now was not the awakening of a faerie from a trance. Although, he had only experienced a trance once in his life, but still, this felt nothing like it.

The Unseelie Court had been very different the last time he had laid his true black eyes upon it. The caverns had been barren of any plant life save for the roses that Queen Samara commanded. As he wandered from the graveyard and into the main tunnel he also noted the strange amount of servants and active faerie who bustled through the cavern system. When he had been here the Queen had no servants and the highcourt was made up of a group of rough and tumble rebels who had reclaimed the Darkling Throne from a tyrant Seelie Court.

The Seelie, he thought with disdain as he spat. The last time the Fae of Mastered Deception had dealings with any Seelie fae outside of combat he had found himself nearly robbed of his magical sword. But now the Seelie hardly mattered to him and as he traversed the tunnel, moving into a communal area that was much more comfortable looking than the barren obsidian foyer he was used to. The land had changed since his last time there and he was looking to find out why he had been called back and who had done the deed.

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[Lucia]

It had only taken three times--of abruptly halting, covered in blood and unmentionable fluids, of the pieces of things littering the ground around her--for Lucia to be aware that there was something not quite right. Oh, she had always gone into rages that caused her to seek to destroy every little thing around herself, but these were different, the anger not muted, but slightly off. The worry had gnawed on her for a day or two before she dismissed it with a flick of her fingers, shelving it aside for later. She hadn't killed (or, rather, tranced) any other fae yet, just some unfortunate animals and shredded vegetation; she had that much self control left, at least.

The fear she felt rumbling in her belly was also ignored. Her? Afraid? The thought almost made Lucia laugh and she put the thought aside as she pressed her fingers into a crease on her dress, trying to smooth it out.

Things were moving and bustling in the Unseelie Court, and Lucia let herself be a part of it, had flowed her way through one area to the next, halberd in hand, moving to some unheard beat. Nothing in particular caught her eye though she marveled at everything as a whole. Beautiful, dark, Unseelie Court--the thought made her whirl in place, dress swishing around her. Who would choose the gleaming Seelie court over the lush darkness of Unseelie?

Then a stranger--they were almost all strangers--caught her eye and she paused, head tilted in a curious angle. Oh, but the fae was filthy, which was a shame. His weapons however... Lucia made no attempt to hide her circling, like a slinking cat eyeing a creature that may be a meal or may be something else entirely. That flaming blade was magnificence; she could just imagine the cries of pain as it charred flesh. Would it cook a person if thrust into their chest?

"Where did you get that?" Lucia asked, nudging closer, voice curious and light. "I don't think I can make weapons that flame like that." She patted the side of the blade of her halberd, as if in apology. "Give it to me?" she asked brightly, looking at the fae with large red eyes, and clasped her hands together.

[Kobaalt]

Kobaalt did not like the way the sidhe snaked around him. The movement of the other was too predatory for his tastes and he responded by moving a hand to the magical weapon at his side. The gesture was not outwardly threatening but merely a subtle placement of his hand should he have to draw the sword on short notice. The Prince of Old Blood did not fear the woman in the slightest, for he knew on any given day his blade would best almost any fae in Alanor. Yet Mastered Deception did not earn his illustrious title by regarding every faerie around him as inferior. He recognized a threat when one was present and he was currently on high alert. Kobaalt hadn’t walked this realm in many a years, after all.

”It came into my possession long ago.” He said, remembering when he picked the blade from the very creature he had slain to earn his Goblin Blade. The thought held a strange nostalgia for he hadn’t pondered the memory in a long time. For a moment he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, the idea that his best years were long gone effecting him for a brief moment. Turning his attention to the faerie that inquired about his weapon was the only thing he could do to take his mind off the fact that he, the Fae of Mastered Deception, was dead.

At her question he merely laughed, ”No chance.” He straightened up, his posture becoming more relaxed as he realized the woman before him was not of right mind. In truth, the fact that she was mentally disturbed should have alarmed him.

He gestured towards the direction of the throne room, ”Who rules this domain?’

[Alecto]

“King Cel, Prince of Flesh and Darkness.”

The voice was chill and smooth -- the hush of water over river rocks at night, or the whisper of smoke in shadows. It was a voice befitting of the speaker who answered him, and as she emerged from the doorway where she had leaned, patient and silent through their brief exchange, the first thing one noticed about her was her coldness and grace. They were qualities that could be inviting, to the right person; some found her kind of beauty refreshing, novel amongst the glitter and heat of the typical Sidhe siren. Less intrepid souls were typically unsettled by her. Alecto could only hope the Goblin Blade before her was of the former variety.

Inside, she was mustering herself as she took a few fluid steps, a dress of midnight blue silk embellished in swathes of silver thread and black pearls clinging to her thighs, where rested her well-tooled belt and scabbard. It was a marked contrast -- the delicacy and sensuality of her garb with the practicality of the weapon -- but one that befit her personality and purpose, here. She had sought the fallen warrior for one reason, and one only. She smiled at Lucia, her look unusually welcoming, then appraised the man before her with admiration and feigned surprise. It would not do, to make him suspect that she was expecting him, today. “And you are Kobaalt, Fae of Mastered Deception. To what do we owe this honor, Prince? It has been a long time since a Goblin Blade walked our halls.” She offered him a shallow bow, wanting to appear respectful, but not weak. “I am Alecto, Denwyr of this court. And you, I do not believe I have met before,” her voice softened, bemused by the blood-spattered Lucia as she addressed her, a trace of a smile turning the corner of her mouth enigmatically. The last time she had glimpsed the smaller fae, she had been on a shade-slaughtering rampage at the festival; the fury knew better than to provoke the woman’s bloodlust. Still, she hoped her tone would placate the wisp of tension that was obviously developing between them.

The war-sprite’s identity secured, Alecto returned her glance to their undead guest, her eyes flashing fire and an appreciation that was genuine. Much as she balked at this plan to disguise her child’s parentage, it was a real honor to look upon a warrior of Kobaalt’s calibre, again. How long had it been since they had inhabited this place, making war on the Seelie and enjoying no such luxuries as the court now provided? It had been another monarchy, another life in most respects, and Alecto had been present for the battles only, lingering little after they emerged victorious. It was doubtful the more celebrated fighter before her would recall her comparatively meagre exploits. She did not expect he would remember her face, either.

But perhaps she could change that, now.

[Lucia]

[OOC. ...This is a sucky, sucky post. Apologies in advance. XD;]

Ah, a pity. Lucia pouted, disappointment etched clear on her face even as she contemplated taking the beautiful, flaming blade--but no. He did not seem easy prey. He did not feel like someone to chase into the ground, to ravage, until all that is left are streaks of red. If so, then his power was to be respected, and to take his coveted blade would be the height of ill manners. She had intuition enough for this, even if the longing was thick in her throat.

She had been about to answer his question when Alecto--ah! the Denwyr!--cut in. Lucia blinked, gave a pleased hum, and half turned to face the other fae, the strange stirrings of unease in her belly cut off by the other's smile. Oh, there was that curious sensation again. It pressed into her mind, but Lucia did her best to shake it off, instead smiling back at Alecto, as bright as the sun should have been. Strange, strange days.

This court seemed oddly informal most of the time, and Lucia teetered between her customary formality or following the Denwyr's example. "Lucia," she introduced, a conspiratorial look playing on her face. "It is so very nice to meet you, Princess." She looked at Kobaalt. "Prince."

Though... Oho! Kobaalt? A Goblin Blade? Thrill trickled down Lucia's spine and she clapped her hands together, feeling pleased. "Aren't you dead?" she asked, turning to look at the fae, unsubtly looking him up and down, like she expected a leg to fall off at any moment. She wandered closer to him, pausing to blatantly stare at his Goblin Blades. "Did you just dig yourself up?" The thought caused her eyes to light up and she whirled to look at Alecto.

"Do you think we should expect more legends to come walking among us?" No trace of mockery here, just excitement and eagerness. Lucia had known that coming to the Unseelie Court would brighten her days. The shade attack before, half remembered fae legends walking... Something new was stirring.

She was so, so glad to be here.

[Alicia Holmes]

So far, so good. Alicia's return to the courts was proving to be easier than she expected. A big duffel bag over her shoulder had all the clothes and personal supplies that she had desired to bring with her from the mortal realm. The room that Sygon had directed her to use had seemed big enough to handle the exotic masks and trinkets from her travels in the mortal realm, so a rolling suitcase at her side contained those treasures. Plus a few more recently acquired treasures that proved to be the heaviest of the things in the suitcase, and so were wrapped in silk scarves and placed so they wouldn't crush the more delicate things.

When she reached the Unseelie court, she felt the need to pause and inhale the fragrance of one of Cel's roses, then brush her cheek against the petals. She still couldn't decide if she hated him or was just angry about how he caught her off guard. In any case, once her temper cooled, she found it much more difficult to do anything about it. Not that a mortal Could do anything about a Sidhe anyway. It was still a lovely fantasy, even if she would never act on it. Or get the chance to act on it. Or the nerve, even if the desire withstood looking him in the eye.

Perhaps that was why she had unconsciously chosen to display herself to best advantage, as much as she could while being practical. Her long black hair hung in loose waves around her exotically beautiful features. Brown leather pants fit her long, shapely legs like a second skin, decorated with fringe, beads and feathers around the waist and knees. Tall laced boots almost ruined the decoration around the knees, but she wasn't about to sacrifice her ankles to less sensible footwear. Her simple black t-shirt was not so practical though, tight enough to show the lines of her bra under it, not to mention the generous curves of her chest. Normally she would have picked something looser, but Alicia could not help but want to be wanted.

Darn. Now, aside from her own internal drama, there was another problem. A trio of fae were standing around talking, and two of them were filthy. While Alicia would have attempted to slip past the one covered in earth despite his unusual weaponry, or the one that was clean, the female soaked in blood had the mortal too nervous to make the attempt. So Alicia lingered just far enough away to be out of the range to eavesdrop on any conversation that seemed private. She set down her bags and made a show of stretching then resting, as if she was not waiting for the trio to move on. Or at least the Sidhe covered in blood to stop being so-- alarming.

[Kobaalt]

The presence of the second sidhe brought a different tone to the scene. Alecto was harsh in her beauty, a vague semblance to the Seelie Queen who had taken the title Savage Seduction upon claiming her Goblin Blade. Kobaalt had only seen the Seelie Queen once and it had been from a distance, but the dark skinned sidhe had become enamored with her upon first glance. Kobaalt had always gravitated towards strong women, the old ways had taught him to be strong in his masculinity but ultimate submissive to a matriarchal ruler. True stability could only be achieved when a woman ruled for they were the vessel of life. It had been the reason he had followed Samara as his queen when an undeniably great warrior and ruler had sat upon the Shining throne.

”The King does not hold a Goblin Blade?” He said with surprise, for he was from a time when only Goblin Blades ruled. Kobaalt would be the first to admit that his time in Alanor had been in the midst turmoil between the courts and in truth any ruler who hadn’t been a famed warrior wouldn’t have lasted upon a throne. Still, it was a foreign idea that any could ascend to the highest position of power without first earning a coveted Goblin Blade. It made him wonder what would he would have done in this land had he not passed away.

It was odd how Kobaalt accepted Lucia’s blood spattered appearance so easily even when he had scoffed at the idea of a non-Goblin Blade king. It was a testament to the times he had come to Alanor during, it had been a time of treachery and warfare. From the looks of things the faerie in this Alanor had grown soft in their luxury, the caverns that offered lush forests that were comparable to the Seelie gardens. It was annoying, to say the least, that Kobaalt had fought for a resurgent Unseelie Court only to see it devoid of the stout hearted faerie who had paved the way for its existence.

”I was dead, but now I am not. The magic of the eclipse has brought me back it seems, I had heard rumors of such a ritual existing but I had only witnessed it once before this.” He was of course referring to the Seelie fae named Linden who had made it a priority to elect a personal necromancer that called him back to the world of the living every time the eclipse came.

Kobaalt noticed the arrival of a third faerie, but this one was not sidhe and she reserved to remain far away from the group that had gathered. He called out, ”Be you Darkling or Shining?” His hand trembled as he itched to draw his saber; it was a habit of his to question those that traversed the caverns for in his day the Unseelie lacked strong enough magic to keep unwanted Seelie from entering.

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[Alecto]

She did not answer his question about the King. To comment on Cel’s lack of title here would be scandalous, she knew, and so she only smiled vaguely at the warrior, her fierce eyes meeting his in a knowing glance. Alecto, too, would have preferred that her King possess such a coveted weapon – it was a mark of the times, that only a single living Faerie had earned one. But it was a fleeting understanding that passed between them. Her look had conveyed the truth without apology, the flash of sympathy almost undetectable. She turned her attention to Lucia. “The pleasure is mine,” she said softly, nodding to her, the smile on her face turning sly as the other female suddenly realized to whom she spoke. This was an odd bird, by all accounts; between her Cheshire Cat grin, the juxtaposition of formality and rudeness, and the excitement that radiated from her, Alecto could see that the woman was not entirely rational.So Much the better, she thought, having had first hand experience that rationality did not always translate into a peaceful mind. Her gaze danced slowly between them as they spoke, noting the ease with which Kobaalt replied to her inquiries, and suspecting it would have gone differently if Lucia had not been a Sidhe…and covered in blood. It seemed the two women were the perfect welcome wagon, for a man of such sensibilities.

But they were not alone, long. The Fury’s infernal stare followed Kobaalt’s as he turned, calling out a challenge that was by no means necessary in these times. Or at least, it was the wrong question to ask. She smiled, stifling a faint chuckle, and beckoned the girl with a finger. “We fear Seelie attackers no longer, brave Prince. They have a haughty queen, but in all other respects are no threat to us.” She scrutinized the girl intently from afar, expecting that she would heed the Denwyr’s “request” that she approach. Not a Sidhe, by any means, but lovely enough to be a nimbus – it is with surprise that she realizes Alicia’s true heritage, moments later. There appeared to be a number of beautiful garlanger wandering Alanor, these days.

It was only after delivering these words that Alecto weighed the significance of Lucia’s final question, her look turning momentarily cold. Should they expect other heroes to emerge from death? The Fury knew little of this ritual, and Segwyn had mentioned no such detail, but he had a history of withholding necessary information until it suited him. She suppressed a sneer, her anger at him flickering back to life, and forced a smile onto her lips. “Shall we escort our guest to more appropriate quarters, Ladies?” She asked, her glance travelling over Kobaalt’s face with renewed interest. “I suspect you are in need of some refreshment, after the ordeal of returning to life..” It would serve the Sluagh king some justice, to hide in the shadows while Alecto cavorted with the faerie he had summoned. Perhaps he had underestimated how well she could play his little game. Her brow quirked suggestively, enigmatically, and she turned to move deeper into their kingdom.

[Lucia]

Goblin Blades were symbols, Lucia knew, and not just mere blades. She did not care much about them other than their presence signifying a measure of mastery in combat. Such holders commanded a certain amount of respect or, at least, wariness. That the king did not hold one did not worry her in the slightest; he had to have other qualities to be king, otherwise surely he would have been pulled down by now, torn into pieces, his crown stripped off him and his body left as carrion. Surely the beautiful and horrifying Unseelie Court would not allow it, and if Lucia had faith in anything beyond herself, it was to this dark court to which she had lost her heart.

Warm at the thought, she looked at Kobaalt brightly, giving a careless shrug as response to his question. A dead fae and now not so dead. Lucia couldn't help but edge so close to him that her breath was surely felt on his arm, looking at his skin closely as if she could see evidence of his once deceased status. She gave a wondering thought about his insides and if they were as alive as his appearance seemed to indicate, except another fae registered and she spun around to take a look.

Lucia tossed the newcomer a careless glance, her hand gripping her halberd tightening and then loosening a half a second later. Interrupting? Spying? Or perhaps some lost lamb? Not a sidhe, Lucia could see, and she froze in indecision, before shaking herself lightly at Alecto's words, deciding to let the little garlanger wander without fear--well, from her. More things interested her at the moment than playing cat and mouse, and Lucia let her attention drift back to the Denwyr, ignoring the newcomer for the moment until she decided to come out.

Alecto hadn't answered her question, but Lucia supposed the interesting play of emotions flickering across the Denwyr's face was answer enough. Warmth drifted through her, chasing away the shadows that had a habit of clinging to her lately, and Lucia giggled. "Oh, yes!" She looked at Kobaalt, almost pleading through her warm red eyes. "And then you shall tell us more--perhaps why you are alive?"

"But of course you must be famished and you're horribly dirty, so you will wish to clean up a bit, maybe" she chattered on, reaching for him like Lucia would tug him along behind her, even if he protested. "And we'll tell you more about the present, or the Denwyr shall, and soon, perhaps, you won't feel as if you have been dead at all!"

[Alicia Holmes]

Alicia almost wanted to groan in dismay at being noticed. She restricted herself to a resigned sigh though, and gathers her bags again as she obediently approached at Alecto's beckoning. With a quick flick of her head to toss her hair out of her face again, Alicia gives Kobaalt a wry smile though.

"I belong here. I think. It feels like home, at least, and the King didn't seem to desire my absence last time I saw him." Alicia answered quietly, not wanting to interrupt any of the Sidhe, nor to let Kobaalt's question go unanswered.

She started to relax a little when Lucia seemed to decide that Alicia was not a threat or a toy. After all being covered in blood did seem to be a fairly common fashion statement there, from what Alicia had seen and experienced on her last visit.

"I don't suppose I can follow along and listen too? I'm not sure what has been going on either." Alicia would follow if the other three moved along, interested at the idea of news. Well, not only news but understanding the culture of her people, since she hadn't known of her heritage until so recently.

[Kobaalt]

Kobaalt eased at Alecto’s words, letting out a low pitched sigh and nodding self-assuredly, ”Of course.” If what this Alecto had said was true then much more had changed in the Unseelie than the decorum. The Darkling faerie had once been a proud group of rebels and even after they had earned sovereignty the caverns they called home felt much more like a rebel hideout than a kingdom. The idea that the Darklings no longer feared any attacks from the Seelie Court was almost impossible to fathom for Kobaalt.

Despite the garlanger’s words Kobaalt did not reciprocate with a response. He merely cast a scrutinizing gaze upon her with a highly arched eyebrow. Kobaalt thought very hard trying to remember any garlangers that had belonged to the Darkling Throng of his era but none came to mind. All garlangers, especially the pixies and the humans, flocked to the Shining Throng. Thus he regarded Alicia with little more than a suspicious leer.

He turned his attention back to the sidhe at hand, both seemingly comfortable with the mortal’s presence. Though Kobaalt didn’t feel entirely comfortable speaking about serious matters in front of a lesser fae he reserved to oblige the two sidhe women. They knew better of the court’s current customs than he.

He followed Alecto, allowing Lucia to pull him along, the garlanger woman took up the back but Kobaalt moved aside just enough that he would catch any sudden movements from the girl.

”I don’t know why I am back. If this is the ritual I suspect then someone would have had to give rise to me, yet when I awoke no one was around.” Kobaalt gave the women the closest thing to an explanation he could about his revival, but even that did not do it justice.

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[Alecto]

ooc: brace yourselves, ladies *cackle*

The Fury had her own reasons to encourage Alicia to stay. She had no intention of saying anything in this mixed company that was not already widely known by the rest of the court, and was frankly relying on the faeries’ love of gossip to propagate the rumors she was about to design. The more wagging tongues there were, the better. And so she smiles at Alicia’s request, doing her best to quell her natural ferocity and rein in the aura of dead cold that usually surrounded her. Her bright eyes still flashed, however – for that, there was nothing to be done.

She led them by only a few steps, the low back of her dress glinting in rhythmic flashes with her pace, her expression hardened as soon as it was out of view. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that this plan of Segwyn’s was astonishingly stupid. What if Kobaalt visibly had no taste for her – what if he turned up his nose at the prospect of her touch, before all these eyes? Perhaps in that it was her own actions that jeopardized the plot, but Alecto did not know how she could insist that her child was his without having been seen with him. “How rude of them,” she commented, real sympathy evident in her tone. The Goblin Blade was not the first left by the Sluagh King to wake up alone, wondering what had happened. “And yet, can we complain? It is an extravagant blessing, to host one of our heroes again. Many have longed for such an opportunity.”

Their path sloped down smoothly, through a corridor that had been smoothed to perfection and lit graciously with candles. Light flickered over the polished stone, so transparent as to resemble water in which a thousand crystals gleamed. She intercepted a servant walking the opposite direction, carrying soiled towels and an empty oil lamp. “Your Denwyr requires a feast for the Goblin Blade, Kobaalt, Fae of Mastered Deception. Have it brought to the Thermae, along with fresh armor befitting a great warrior. Are the baths crowded?”

“There are a few patrons, Princess, but not many.”

She dismissed him, and he hastened down the hall. The scent of spiced oils and incense began to drift up to them in the corridor – cinnamon, vanilla and sandalwood, along with the faintest whiff of sulfur. The Thermae was fed by mineral hotsprings that bubbled up from the mountain, crystal clear and cleansing. Like the Romans, the Faerie had little in the way of modesty, and much in the way of hedonism. Few would dare venture into the baths unless they were Sidhe or of exceptional beauty, for the rest had come to admire the bodies of the courtiers as much as to enjoy the soak. She turned a smile over her shoulder. “The Thermae had not been built, when last you walked these halls. It is one of the Unseelie’s finer pleasures,” she explained to Kobaalt, her voice demure. They rounded a bend, and the vast chamber of the baths opened up before them. A honeycomb of baths were cut into the jade and obsidian floor – some small enough for one (or a close two), some large enough for twenty. Between them ran paths defining the hexagonal borders, as narrow as a foot in some places, in others nearly as wide as four. Servants padded barefoot between the baths with oils and towels and hor d’oeuvres on silver plates. Several such faerie approached them as they entered, and Alecto allowed them to delicately undress her and spirit her clothing away. Her eyes roved over the chamber strategically; she supposed it would have been too much to ask, that the baths be more crowded. The Fury stepped gracefully toward a larger bath without so much as a backward glance, trusting that her party would follow even if their sensibilities demanded otherwise, and lowered herself easily into the near-scalding water. Her pewter-cast skin took on a flush of warmth. She smiled up at Kobaalt then, her eyes almost predatory for an instant before appraising him.

“While we wait, we shall talk. Princess Lucia will tell a better tale of Imbolc than I, but I will preface her story with a brief explanation. The two courts have been at peace for many years – as much as we can be peaceful with their lot. The Unseelie are numerous and strong, the son of Andais sits the throne. We enjoy our pastimes, as you can see, but also have fine warriors. A golden age,” her smile turned faint, almost a smirk, “with some exceptions. I am eager to hear what you last remember, Prince. The age of heroes is better music than we now play.” She spread her arms over the edge of the bath, and watched him closely.

[Lucia]

A ritual. That sounded about right since it wasn't every day that fae rose from the dead. Not that Lucia knew much about rituals, nor had she ever cared to learn more about them. Though if they could do things like raise the dead... it was a curious thought and she may pay it more mind later, if she cared to remember. "It is rude," she chimed in, "And yet would it be better dead?" Lucia patted Kobaalt on his arm.

As they neared the baths, Lucia nearly vibrated in eagerness. She adored the slick feeling of blood, but it was rather unpleasant after it dried. It flaked, it itched, it wasn't nearly the rich color that freshly spilt blood was. She looked forward to cleaning herself, and the baths in Unseelie were decadent. The steam rose gently, the servants attended to their every need, the smell was heady without being cloying, and sinking into the hot water was always a treat.

She sent away the servants that approached her with a flick of her fingers, gently laid her halberd to the side, and shrugged out of the thin straps of her dress, letting it fall to the floor and pool at her feet. Lucia stepped out of the ring of fabric, unbuckled the strapped knife sheath on her thigh--the only accessory still on her--and dropped it before picking up her halberd again to follow Alecto. She never liked it when it was out of arms reach, in fact laying it beside the bath as she slipped into the water with a breathy sigh.

Lucia gave the party--even the garlanger--an indulgent smile. The water was stained with red, though it gradually disappeared as it swirled and Lucia leisurely rubbed herself, a pleased sound escaping her as she leaned back and lifted a foot. She wriggled her toes as if a ripple of her fingers in greeting to the others before she attended to her hair, the long white strands like a caress against her bare skin.

"Mmm?" Lucia made herself focus on the Denwyr's words, even as she licked off a pale pink droplet from her hand. "I was not at Imbolc overly long." Her voice was languid, much like her body. "The Seelie Queen oversaw the festival and it swirled with lights and laughter. However the party was beset by creatures..." She paused, nose wrinkling slightly in thought. "Shades," she continued, "Dirty beings that attacked as arrows rained from the sky." Pleasure seeped into her voice. "We defended ourselves, though more and more boiled out of the woods to attack. Our King, the Slaugh King and his people, arrived then, like an avenging tide, and beat back the horde."

She basked in the memories for a moment before shaking out of it and smiling at the others. "I am sure you have many such memories," she chirped at Kobaalt. "I bet you would have been magnificent had you been there."

[Alicia Holmes]

The increased humidity was rather uncomfortable for Alicia, in her tough, heavy clothes. She twisted her long, black curls up into a knot on the top of her head as she followed the others, but did not comment on Alecto's choice of venue.

The servants didn't seem to notice her at all, and Alicia had to step away briefly to keep out of their way. As for climbing into the water, the garlanger was just not interested. Though she wouldn't mind a quick wash, but being so vulnerable with this particular set of people was not high on her list of desires.

So Alicia turned towards Kobaalt with a smile and a shrug. "Shall I clean up your gear while you take a bath? Armor is armor, but your weapons are unique and shouldn't leave your sight. I happen to have my cleaning kit in my bag, and there is space on the edge for me to work."

While she would wait for his answer, soon Alicia would be settled at the side of the basin that Alecto had chosen anyway. In her lap, a cleaning kit for firearms and the glock that had failed to fire when she had tested it soon after arriving in Alanor again. She had every intention of finding out why it had failed, and has no idea that it was the locale, not the weapon that was the issue.

The fact of the way the others carried around weapons so blatantly meant that it did not occur to her that a firearm might be different. She had pulled it very casually from her duffel, along with the kit. The bullets and clips were stowed separately, so the gun was not loaded.