TownCrier/Faction Attraction/House Paupers

This is a creative work set in the world of Elanthia, attributed to its original author(s). It does not necessarily represent the official lore of GemStone IV.

Title: Faction Attraction - House Paupers

Author: Yardie

Hosts and Members

Chatelaine Traiva Verethundi the Frontier Philanthropist

She appears to be an Aelotoi of the Mrae'ni Clan.

She is petite in stature and has an hourglass figure. She appears to be in the spring of life. She has smoldering, viridian-flecked dark hazel eyes and : rose-tinted ivory skin. She has hip length, softly curled deep cordovan hair woven with a simple sheer ebon silk headscarf into a thick braid, a few wispy tendrils framing her face. She has a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones. She has gilt-flecked hunter green lacquer brushed onto her faintly rounded fingernails. She has a pair of jade-veined elongated emerald wings adorned with some clouded smoky quartz ornaments stippled with gold motes.

She has some miniature faenor leaves joined by gilt branches in the ridges of both her ears, and a knotwork and dragonfly tattoo on her neck.

She is wearing a braided trio of ebon silk cords, a verdant-dyed floral lace corset contoured in tonal leather over a fitted scoop-necked black wool kirtle side-laced with golden cords, an intricate uncut emerald wristlet, a velvety suede multi-pocketed carryall clasped with a dragon's-tear diamond solitaire, and a pair of ebon fleece-laced corbeau leather knee-boots.

Adjutant Yunni Radottir Ardenai the Crimson Adventurer

Twisting vines writhe around Yunni, obscuring her in an ever-shifting barrier of thorns.

She appears to be an Elf.

She is taller than average and has a leanly muscled physique. She appears to be of a tender age. She has sparkling crystal green eyes and fair skin. She has long, braided strawberry blonde hair and a wide-brimmed hat of floppy woven straw worn at a rakish angle. She has a delicate face and thin eyebrows. Her features as a whole are androgynous in quality. The tips of her ears are shielded by a fan of gilded celaeun arrows spilling nacreous raven feathers, leaving the plumage to trace the orbital lobe.

She has a chain of intricate runes tattoo on her finger.

She is holding a tankard of Pauper's brew in her right hand.

She is wearing a soft crocheted vivid crimson rackhal scarf, a fitted dark leather jacket detailed with an ebon-lined wyvern rampant, a raven black flyrsilk tunic, a leaf-carved celaeun archer's ring, a pair of eahnor-buckled dark buckskin belts, a leaf-incised myklian horn suspended from a studded leather belt strap, some fitted pants of well-oiled black leather, and a pair of red-scaled thrak hide boots buckled down the sides.

Taytum

He appears to be a Human

He is tall. He appears to be very young. He has piercing crystal green eyes and olive skin. He has short, thick black hair shaved at the temples. He has a clean-shaven face, a straight nose and broad shoulders.

He has minor cuts and bruises on his chest, and some minor cuts and bruises on his left hand.

He is wearing a belt pouch, a rucksack, a little round mirror, a hunter green belt quiver, a threadbare pink woolen hood, a leather sheath, a crystal amulet, a pair of slashed leather shoes, a pair of satin-paned breeches, a jewelled flat cap, and a peascod-bellied doublet.

Trallihn the Terror of the Haunted of Jaketha Island

He appears to be a Dwarf.

Light spills from his nautilus shell ocarina, taking on the form of translucent, tendril-like waves that ripple around Trallihn in undulating patterns. They move like seaweed caught in an underwater current, casting a ghostly greenish glow that ebbs and flows with every movement.

Twisting vines writhe around Trallihn, obscuring him in an ever-shifting barrier of thorns.

He is stooped and has a withered, bony physique. He appears to have one foot in the grave. He has jaundiced yellowed eyes and leathery liver-spotted skin. He has a wrinkly, pallid scalp devoid of hair engulfed by a floppy sailcloth fishing hat shaped like an oversized three-eyed catfish, the tooth-adorned edge making it look like a creature devouring his head. He has a pock-marked and haggard face, a crooked wart-tipped nose and a long, matted brown beard heavily streaked with oily grime and singed in various places along its tangled length. An indigo sapphire eel is wrapped firmly around his ear, twists of ghezyte holding it tightly in place.

Superimposed over Trallihn's form is the ghostly silhouette of a dark elf assassin, a venomous expression on his face. As you watch, he glares around in harsh defiance, a deadly glint in his eye.

He has a faded sultry kobold maiden tattoo accentuated by crudely inked words on his wrist, a rolton skull bowling ball tattoo on his neck, a faded and blurry pierced heart tattoo on his forearm, and a tattoo of a little brown jug in faded and blurry ink on his wrist.

Mystical energies wash over him, trussing him in a shroud of pestilence and decay.

A budding sentient potato wearing a pitted and blackened stew pot is settled on his shoulder.

Though large, a salvaged steelhorn rolton skull lythurhuum rests upon Trallihn's head as if it is a natural part of him.

He is wearing a foul unrecognizable clump, a sinuous ghezyte corkscrew, a peculiar yellowed bone shard, an algae-tangled moth greatcloak of caliginous elesine, a dung brown flea hand-puppet garbed in tattered kobold skin pants, a scraggly kobold scalp fetish bearing a crude black death beetle tattoo, a crude rolton hide satchel slung over his shoulder, a shoddy carryall stitched together from overlapping desiccated eel carcasses slung over his other shoulder, a filthy cobweb-covered haversack barely held together with strands of burlap, a tacky flour sack waistcoat boasting gaudy fake wispstone buttons, a pitiful-looking makeshift harness over a set of ghezyte-spined kiramon carapace armor with a stretched-out yellowed undershirt underneath, a brown leather cigar sling, some somnis gauntlets, a six-tentacled octopus hide glove, a side-knotted frayed elesine sash, a second-rate kobold skin case whipstitched with knotted catgut bindings, a preserved rolton bladder, a stunted and gnarled Bresnahanini rolton horn, a torn and tattered filthy towel covered in questionable stains, a makeshift pair of grimy patchwork trousers, a mismatched pair of crusty socks under some white kidskin boots with black steel toes, and a three-legged bony ghezyte parrot.

Lord Tolwynn Verethundi the Fortune Seeker

He appears to be a Human from Seareach.

He is tall. He appears to be in the prime of life. He has tempestuous grey-green eyes and evenly bronzed skin. He has waist-length, thick jet black hair pulled back into a kelyn-bound braid. He has a chiseled angular face and slightly upswept ears.

He has a stylized green wisp marking on his neck.

He is wearing a mercurial urnon Ivas symbol, a sleek black cloth-of-veniom longcoat, a silk-edged cloth-of-silver shirt, some silvered black steel bracers, a matched trio of gilded black glaes wedding bands, a gilded black glaes band inlaid with wisp-patterned verdant jade accents, some emerald wisp-patterned sleek black leather pants, and a pair of polished black leather boots buckled with kelyn.

Introduction

Paupers, Rose Garden
Nestled amidst towering modwir and willow trees is an expansive rose garden that stretches across one entire side of the grounds. Surrounded by wrought iron fencing and trimmed verdant hedges, the garden embodies soothing tranquility as it mutes the sounds of the town. Lines of rose beds border a curving path that leads to the edge of a deep blue pond and a small wooden fishing dock. Tucked in near some shady trees is a worn wooden bench facing a bubbling rose quartz marble fountain. You also see an ale-stained driftwood crate, a small fire, an oversized canvas hammock, a small hole in the ground half shaded by the dock and a gilt-edged vellum work list. A rose quartz marble fountain bubbles peacefully. Reflected moonlight shines off the silver coins at the bottom of a rose quartz marble fountain. A halfling gardener meanders into view, taking the time to stop and water a few flower beds and other plants before heading off on other duties. His off-tune whistling follows him the entire time.

I had some familiarity with Miss Verenthundi.  In truth, we were rather good friends, and despite a host of different perspectives and beliefs, and despite her attractiveness reaching critical levels of danger, we always treated each other amiably.  Part of knowing her involved her penchant for punctuality.  So it was in my best interest to arrive early.

Chatelaine Traiva strides in with fluid grace, each footstep leaving behind a faintly glowing, deep emerald imprint of a sheep's hoof on the ground behind her. She walks over to the wooden bench and settles down for a few minutes' rest. She then flutters her wings, stirring the air slightly.

Amusingly, she did not see me.  Professionally, that it always the intent; however, in this case, either she mistook me for the flower girl and the fauna, or had been so preoccupied in her thoughts that she did not take note of my presence.  I found that odd, so I drew her attention.

Yardie: Tired?

Traiva laughs softly, trying to hide her amusement. She smiles.

Yardie: I imagine it went well?

Traiva nods to Yardie. "Very."

Yardie: Good to hear. Are there going to be any others showing up?

Traiva: Yunni said she would join us, and hopefully Trallihn and Tolwynn are on their way as well.

Yardie: Oh, then this got more interesting than anticipated.

Traiva: Oh?

Yardie (explaining): Multiple perspectives.

Traiva: That is a good thing. She nods.

Yardie: I think it is. So, you know how this goes since you've...er...done it before, though for a different organization.

Traiva nods. "Oh, of course." She smiles at first, then as she looks lost in thought, she stands up. "A moment." A trail of faintly glowing, deep emerald hoof-shaped prints follows Chatelaine Traiva as she moves out.

I noticed Yunni moving stealthily into the area. She grinned sheepishly and waved at me.  Next to her, a fierce snow leopardess returned to normal color.

Yunni (greeting): Good evening.

Chatelaine Traiva strides in with fluid grace, each footstep leaving behind a faintly glowing, deep emerald imprint of a sheep's hoof on the ground behind her. A silver-traced carved mahogany cart comes rolling slowly into the room and stops.

I gave Yunni a friendly hug, stirring the scent of tilled soil intertwining across dew-laden verdant botanicals, the heady notes of earthy loam and naefira-blended tea leaves concealing a whisper of worn leather from her skin.  Yunni hugged me.  I met Yunni in Ta'Vaalor, I believe, but she frequented her nights in Plur's Pub.  I appreciated and admired her joy. She was a rather cheerful person, optimistic and an enjoyed of company and a good drink.

Traiva: There we go.

Yunni grins sheepishly at Traiva. Yunni hugs Traiva, who wraps her in a warm embrace.

Traiva gives Yunni a lingering kiss, first on one cheek, then the other. "It feels wrong to not have some refreshments nearby." Traiva grinned impishly.

Yardie: Well, that makes sense. Fits the brand, eh?

On the carved mahogany cart: Food/Drink [11]: a fresh mixed fruit kabob, a stemless flute of orange-infused sparkling white wine, some rum-soaked vanilla cake, a tankard of Pauper's brew, a gilded glass of opalescent green absinthe, a rich chocolate brownie topped with a merlot glaze, a beer batter sausage biscuit, a cup of hot fresh-roasted full-flavored coffee, a sugar-dusted strawberry, a tall stein of Bartender's cherry mead, a goblet of warm blackberry brandy

Yunni flashes a wide grin. She nodded.

I poured myself a tankard of Pauper's brew.  I had cut down on my libation consumption, but when in Paupers...

Yunni pours herself a tankard of Pauper's brew.

Yardie (to the brew): I'll be on brand tonight, though I've been sobering up as of late.

I took a drink from Pauper's brew. The bubbly brew slowly worked its way down my throat, burning and tickling my throat.  I drank poisons that rivlaled the ferocity it stung down my esophagus.

Traiva laughs softly, trying to hide her amusement. "Oh, there is some coffee.."

Yardie: As I told Miss Luxie, I don't drink coffee. I was here a few weeks ago for the TownCrier interview.

Yunni gasped at me.

I did.  I've been an avid tea drinker, and I never cared for the bitterness that coffee provided, instead, settling on the earthy taste of a nice mild tea.  To this day, I maintain that others think me odd for this.

Yunni gazes thoughtfully at her Pauper's brew.

Traiva looks lost in thought. "Tea? I could grab some quickly."

Yunni: But coffee stouts are the best."

Yardie: No need. Though I appreciate the hospitality.

Traiva (graciously): Of course.

Traiva looks lost in thought.

Yunni fidgets. She takes a drink from her Pauper's brew and looked rather relaxed.

Yardie: Shall we begin? Or are we still waiting on Traillhn.

I sniffed the air.  One could spell Trallihn from an ocean away.  Tabubu referred to him by the moniker of the threat in Mist Harbor, The Ancient Filth.  I thought the name lacked originality and did little justice to the Living Landfill that was the Khanshael Dwarf.  His personality was anything but filthy, warm like fresh dung, his heart and charm soft like the most pungent snot. Once he arrived, it would be hard to miss...and hard to breathe, in fairness.

Traiva: We can wait a few minutes to see if anyone else comes, or we can start.

Yardie: Smells clean, so he's not nearby.

Yunni chuckled.

Traiva shakes her head at you and clucks her tongue.

Yardie: We can give it five more minutes. (to Traiva): I'm not saying anything that is untrue!

Traiva: Oh, we know.

A fierce snow leopardess settles on her haunches, her tail flicking restlessly.

Yunni nods knowingly.

I petted the leopardess, scratching her neck affectionately. "And what's your name?"

Yunni smiles. (introducing) "That's Zara."

Yardie: Hello Zara!"

Yunni (whispers aloud): Despite her initial plans of making me a meal, she is quite the companion.

I chuckled at Yunni.

Yunni shoves playfully at the snow leopardess, who bats playfully at her with a paw before jumping to the side in attempts to avoid her touch.

Yardie: I imagine it was the same for my brothers.

Yunni blinks.

People often forgot that my brothers were rangers.  In fact, most of the people that are important in my life and in my heart happened to have that touch for plants, nature, wildlife, and the like.  Vaerno, Draelor's wolf, had enough of a temper to maul someone.  Captain Foof, my brothers samoyed, was a different story.

Traiva poured herself a stemless flute of orange-infused sparkling white wine and took a drink from it, relaxing. (thoughtfully). "Anyone else can jump in as they get here, no?"

A young watery-eyed girl wanders into the area plucking petals from a rose and whispering, "He loves me. He loves me not." Having run out of petals, the girl strolls off to find another rose.

Yardie: They can. Certainly.

Travia In Action

Taytum: Hello.

Traiva flutters her wings at Taytum.

Taytum smiles.

Traiva (to Taytum): Hello there.

Taytum: I am looking for someone.

I waved to Taytum.  I imagined he would be another voice expressing their love and appreciation for House Paupers.  He did not have the appearance of an officer.  I should have noted his injuries, but my thoughts were elsewhere.  Traiva, being in touch with her empathic abilities, beat me to the punch. 

It has always been explained to me that Empaths grasp injuries like others, and they connect with emotions, experiences, and memories. I trusted few to connect in this way. I did trust Traiva, however.

Yunni places an arm against her waist and courteously bows to Taytum, and smiles.

Yunni (to Taytum, warmly): Good evening.

Taytum: Is Traivia here? I heard of her healing ser...

Traiva: That is me, yes.

Taytum: Oh! Hello!

Traiva flutters her wings at Taytum.

Taytum bows to Traiva.

Traiva touches Taytum. Traiva lightly brushes Taytum's skin. The wound marring Taytum's left hand seals itself and disappears, only to open on Traiva's left hand. The wound marring Taytum's chest seals itself and disappears, only to open on Traiva's chest.

Taytum: My name is Taytum.

Traiva sets about preparing Taytum to be as presentable as possible. Traiva wavers with sudden fatigue, but at the same time, Taytum appears particularly enlivened.

Taytum: I have a bent fing... Traiva (to Taytum): A pleasure to meet you. Traiva smiles. The cuts on Traiva's chest close and the bruises fade.

Taytum: Oh!

Yunni grins.

Traiva winks at Taytum.

Taytum moves his finger around.

Taytum: Thank you so much!

I shook hands with Taytum.  His left hand seemed as healed and conditioned as his shaking hand.  Despite the talent, I found it amazing, every single time.

Yardie: I am called Yardie.

Traiva: Of course!

The cuts on Traiva's left hand close, and the bruises fade. She murmured a simple, mystical chant...concentrating. Her chest improved and her left hand looks better.

Yunni (introducing): Yunni. She raises her hand.

Taytum just handed Traiva some coins.

Traiva bows low before Taytum, spreading her wings for all to see.

Taytum waves to Traiva.

Traiva: Thank you.

Taytum: Thank you! Taytum just went out.

What is House Paupers?

Yardie: So, I can commence. I know Traiva knows how this goes, but for the two of you as members of House Paupers, my job as a correspondent for the TownCrier is to showcase the Houses of Elanthia. The purpose of it is to showcase the history and offer avenues for those who may be interested but do not know about these places an opportunity to learn as I learn, grow as I grow, and perhaps join. I was looking forward to House Paupers because, from what I understand, it is one of the oldest Houses in Elanthia, yes?

A passerby momentarily pauses by a rose quartz marble fountain, closes his eyes, and tosses a single silver coin into the water. With a grin, he walks away.

Traiva nodded. One of the original three, yes.

Yunni takes a drink from her Pauper's brew.

Yardie: What are the original three? Can you tell me more about that?

Traiva (nodding): Many, many years ago, when the Landing was still quite young and small, three organizations formed for the better of the community that had developed, each with their own goals and niche. House of the Argent Aspis, House Paupers, and House Phoenix.

I notice Trallihn moving stealthily into the area. A clumsy black ora golem arrives into the area following him, some rattling bone knuckles noisily heralding its arrival. But the noise came second.  It was the...I do not know there are words in Common to describe the odor he produced.  Rank and foul, I felt the nerves on my spine tingle and my nose flare in protest. Trallihn stretched.  He leaned on me, and I noted the scent of soured seaweed, decaying fish, and putrid chum around him.  He smelled like back home in the Folly...after a drunken binge and several bar fights with pungent sailors. 

Traiva flutters her wings at Trallihn.

Yunni grins at Trallihn.

Trallihn turns toward Traiva and renders a sharp hand salute.

Yunni turns toward Trallihn and renders a sharp salute with her Pauper's brew.

Trallihn grunts at Yunni in greeting. Howdy folks!

I pressed on, even with the assault on my olfactory senses.  And I thought the brew was strong. The choked inhales revealed the extent of my agony.

Yardie: Do you know how many years ago? And is that the order of development?

Yunni (to Trallihn): Good evening there.

Traiva: Many, many years. In 5091 of the Modern Era.

I whistled.  5091 was long ago, even for a Faendryl such as myself.  Considering that my presence in Elanthia only stretches for four years from...other business elsewhere...I found the length and longevity of House Paupers establishment amazing.  I did not know about Argent Apsis or Rising Phoenix, and I had an interview with Phoenix that never happened. Still, such an extensive history served as the mother of the other Houses of Elanthia, directly or indirectly.

Traiva: And Aspis was the first, followed by Paupers, then Rising Phoenix. All in Charlatos of that year.

Origins of House Paupers

Yardie: That's a long time. So, let's talk about that. How did Paupers come to be? Where did the idea and the name come from?

Traiva (sheepishly): Unfortunately, I do not have any of the notes of why the name Paupers.

Traiva shrugs her shoulders, lifting her wings slightly. The founders… Traiva furrows her brow.

Yunni turns an inquisitive ear toward Traiva.

Traiva: Silent Mydnyghte as the Chair, Kirc Bloodgard as tthe Treasurer, and Dextor Malthorn as the Secretary. Along with Phaedra Bleu and Karel Tasavalta.

What It Means To Be A Pauper

Yardie: I imagine they're no longer around. A pity on the name, but I do want to delve into that with my next question....which usually is the FIRST question...but, ebbs and flows. What does Paupers meant to you? When you hear the name Paupers, what comes to mind? Anyone can answer, by the way, and I would encourage anyone TO answer.

Traiva laughs with delight, her eyes full of merriment.

A fierce snow leopardess purrs loudly, rubbing her head up against Yunni possessively.

Yunni grins sheepishly.

Traiva: I will share, but encourage Yunni and Trallihn to share as well. When I think of Paupers, I think of Welcome, Hospitality. A beacon for those who may not feel they fit anywhere else, where all can relax and recharge.

Yunni agrees with Traiva.

Trallihn: Pauper's means all... members of all walks o'life gathering together wit' the problems left at the gates.

Yunni: For me it was finding a place I could be my absolute self and not only be accepted but be encouraged to do so.

Trallihn deftly withdraws a pungent seaweed-laced cigar from one of the tubes affixed to his leather cigar sling. Trallihn glances at the cigar in his hand and snaps his fingers.

T pulled a swingfrom my Pauper's brew, and winced from the are assaulted by an overwhelming scent of pure alcohol as you drink away.

Casting an expectant eye down to his seaweed-laced cigar, Trallihn sharply snaps his fingers, and a flame ignites the tip of the cigar. A curl of seaweed and fish head smoke wends up from his cigar, and he gives it a hearty puff.

Trallihn parts his lips and blows identical, interlinked, mottled brownish-green smoke rings into the air.

I coughed.  Rolling a cigar and smoking had been something I enjoyed.  Whatever Trallihn smoked was not it.  Politely, I blamed it on the alcohol, as the drinks waged their battle against my throat and tonsils.

Trallihn: Might see an empath about that cough... he nodded at Traiva, then glanced down.

Yardie: (confessing): It was the drink. Rather strong.

Leaning back, Trallihn squints his eyes against the curtain of mottled brownish-green smoke the cigar is forming around him. Yer welcome! I'm not s'posed t'say what makes it so strong... so I won't.

I blinked at Trallihn, glanced at a tankard of Pauper's brew on a silver-traced carved mahogany cart, and slowly blanched in terror.  And here I thought the drink was firm in its fermentation; perhaps the assault of barley and hops had enough time to marinate and stew.  Instead, I imagined the horrors that the Bartender, Trallihn may have added to the beverage: manure, insects, dead rats.  The last one worried me most--Trallihn enjoyed littering my home with dead fieldmice.  I wondered if they died due to the beverage or if they were an ingredient in the beverage.

Traiva (reassuring): The Brew is fine.

Yunni glances at a tankard of Pauper's brew in her hand.

Trallihn: My Bartender title is just a formality... I'm not allowed near the clean glasses any more than I'm allowed in the tubs. Trallihn just nudged Traiva.

I heard unintelligible jabbering coming from Trallihn's tattered filthy towel. It stoppped as quickly as it began. That was the Mrs., as he often referred to her...or it.  The towel had a life of its own.  I wondered what cultures grew from within its fabric.  Perhaps it was the entrance to another valence.  Either way, I was uncertain about the brew or the towel.

Trallihn: (to his tattered filthy towel, offhandedly) Tha's what I said. With less swearing.

Yunni chuckles.

Trallihn rolls his seaweed-laced cigar between his thumb and index finger for a moment before puffing contentedly, sending seaweed and fish head-scented mottled brownish-green smoke into the air.

Journey to Paupers (And Its Various Locations)

Yardie: Let's speak on all walks of life, as Trallihn mentioned, and as Yunni alluded to. When we think of all walks of life, we think of the Landing. Paupers has many other locations, but when we spoke prior, you wanted to meet here. What does this place mean to you and how does Paupers represent the hodgepodge that is the Landing?

Traiva (explains): The Landing is the home of Paupers, where it was founded. And where we still have the majority of our operations. So it felt proper to meet here. Our annexes in other towns are for the comfort of our members who travel. Traiva smiles. "But when you think on it…the Landing has been a beacon for decades to those who may not fit anywhere else, coming to seek their fortunes, or to escape their pasts. Like the Landing gates welcoming all in, so do the gates of Paupers. It does not matter what your gender, your race, your training path, your religion... You are welcome here. Traiva takes a deep breath, blinking a couple of times before resuming a calm expression. What other organization, in their right mind, would not only let Trallihn in, but make him an officer?

Yunni grins.

Trallihn: Twice no less.

Traiva nods at Trallihn. (emphasizes): Twice.

Trallihn: I used t'be the janitor.

Yardie: Twice!? Quiet gurgling issues from Trallihn's tattered filthy towel. Fine... custodian. Yardie: But how can you be the janitor when you don't cl....

Trallihn waves his hand in a dismissive gesture.

I shook my head.  Inclusivity was always a strong point, but were there no standards of cleanliness?

Traiva (corrects): Custodian.

Yardie (muttering): Nevermind.

Trallihn: Oh I clean up around me... it's how I find the best trash. And the only rule I enforce... use the damned trash cans.

Traiva (to Trallihn): You did touch a broom. Once.

Yardie: For what purpose?

Traiva furrows her brow.

Trallihn just opened a torn and tattered filthy towel covered in questionable stains. He rummages through a torn and tattered filthy towel covered in questionable stains and removes a gnarled blue-black widowwood broomstick.

Traiva: It was so long ago, I completely forgot.

Trallihn leans on his widowwood broomstick. The bristles bend slightly from his weight.

Traiva: It has not budged from where he left it in the pantry. I do not -want- to touch it now.

Trallihn (to Traiva): I thought it was my cane... still pretty comfortable.

I looked at Traiva and shook my head.  Twice.  She had not learned her lesson the first time.

Traiva raises her voice in merry laughter.

Trallihn raises his widowwood broomstick above his head in a threatening manner.

Traiva: It is dirty and dusty.

Trallihn put a gnarled blue-black widowwood broomstick in his tattered filthy towel.

Traiva shudders.

Trallihn: Just imagine if I cleaned with it.

Traiva gazes up into the heavens.

Yunni furrows her brow.

A pained expression crosses Traiva's face.

A sudden shimmer of golden light within the waters of a rose quartz marble fountain caught my attention. Gazing within, you see several small fish swimming around peacefully.  In that, I found it a mirror to Paupers.  Traiva was a good friend at that.  However, sometimes we went head to head on certain positions and stances regarding religion, magic, etc.  Hearing Traiva's merry laugh earlier had a cleansing, dare I say, healing effect on her otherwise busy body.  Much like her healing of Taytum, perhaps Paupers and its cheery assortment of misfits rejuvenated the wounds caused by the world outside of Paupers.