Missoni (prime)/2024-05-19 - A Commissioned Repair

This log is from the Tales of Ta'Vaalor storyline on May 19, 2025 from the viewpoint of Missoni.

 
Retrieving your steel key from your person, you unlock and open a keyhole-shaped door.
You and your group flounce through a keyhole-shaped door amidst a diffuse cloud of prismatic glitter.
[Twilight Gallery, Studio]
Cramped yet tidy, the studio has a solid mahogany floor and slate walls.  Honeycomb cubbies are built between the floor and underside of an ascending spiral staircase, the octagonal compartments filled with all manner of supplies, half-finished projects, cups, bowls, and other bric-a-brac associated with the art of creation.  A long paint-marred table provides ample room for new creations and has a tall metal-fortified stool set before it.  You also see an A-frame lor scaffold constructed around a cauldron of emerald-hued flame and a keyhole-shaped door.
Obvious exits: none
Wylnar followed.
You pull a keyhole-shaped door closed behind you and lock it, then tuck your key back into its place.
A lazy wild blood red dog arrives.
Wylnar glances at a keyhole-shaped door.
You nod approvingly.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "This the part where you murder me?"
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you offer, "There are refreshments on the table if you would like."
You gaze in amusement at Wylnar.
The dog paws at the ground, and its fur twitches and quivers for a moment.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you exclaim, "Surely you do not think I would do that!"
Wylnar pours himself a honeycomb-etched glass of peated whiskey.
Wylnar shrugs.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Plenty of people want to."
Wylnar leans against a keyhole-shaped door.
You ponder the meaning of Wylnar's existence.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "That seems drastic."
Wylnar offers you a cracked night-dark sphere wound in thread-thin mithril strands.  Click ACCEPT to accept the offer or DECLINE to decline it.  The offer will expire in 30 seconds.
You nod appreciatively at Wylnar.
Wylnar shrugs slightly.
You accept Wylnar's offer and are now holding a cracked night-dark sphere wound in thread-thin mithril strands.
You tilt your night-dark sphere side to side, making the light play off it.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar indifferently says, "People are dramatic."
Like a cage of finespun sugar, threads of mithril envelope the sphere, making it difficult to trace the hairline fractures running throughout, from which a shadowed energy slowly seeps.  The lustrous white metal contrasts the intense darkness of the glass, though the brightness is occasionally dimmed by a smoky haze prowling over the orb's surface.
Wylnar sniffs at his peated whiskey.
Speaking in Elven, you murmur, "Just as I remember."
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Wylnar looks rather relaxed.
You remove some waxy translucent chalk from in your alligator skin case.
A sense of dread creeps over you as steadily as the haze seeping from the sphere.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I will just--"
You glance at the night-dark sphere in your hand.
Speaking in Elven, you carefully say, "I will just refresh the wards a bit."
Using some waxy translucent chalk, you outline the shape of a summoning circle upon the floor.
Wylnar gazes with interest at the peated whiskey in his hand.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar mutters, "Good whiskey."
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Wylnar looks rather relaxed.
Speaking in Elven, you cheerfully say, "Thank you."
You put some waxy translucent chalk in your alligator skin case.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "Won't make you nervous having an audience, right?"
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you advise, "I suggest standing within the circle."
You move inside the inner confines of your summoning circle.
Wylnar attempts to move towards a summoning circle, but is stopped in his tracks by some unseen force.
Wylnar squints.
Wylnar carefully steps over the bounds of the circle.
(Missoni helps Wylnar pass the barrier.)
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "Don't cross the circle, blah, blah?"
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "An audience is no problem. I have led demonstrations before."
Speaking in Elven, you agree, "Do not disrupt the circle."
You breathe in slightly.
You snap your fingers, and the dog moves to your side obediently.
You give your night-dark sphere to a lazy wild blood red dog.  It grudgingly accepts.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you introduce, "My assistant, Winston."
You glance at the dog and incline your head slightly.  The dog licks its lips, causing a small bit of drool pooling in its mouth to spill onto the ground.  The dog begins panting heavily.
Wylnar glances at a lazy wild blood red dog.
Speaking in Elven, you muse, "Now then..."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "...Really?"
Cupping your fingers before you, the tips suddenly darkening to an inky black, you murmur a prayer to the dead, enticing them to aid you in casting Balefire.
Wylnar makes a bit of a face as the slobber from the dog slips between the fine mithril threads.
(Missoni redirects green energy to the scaffold, where it feeds the flame of bright vert laced with black. The fire begins to overflow the cauldron centered beneath the scaffold, bathing the surrounding studio in lurid viridian light.)
Wylnar glances at an A-frame lor scaffold constructed around a cauldron of emerald-hued flame.
The haze seems contained here in the circle, only barely creeping along the surface of the sphere.
Speaking in Elven, you distractedly say, "His saliva is only a bit poisonous."
Speaking in Elven, you say, "I am sure it will burn off."
You casually observe your surroundings.
(Missoni gestures to the blood red dog, calling it over. It approaches the cauldron without hesitation, its jaws still holding the sphere. The blood red dog rests its head upon the edge of the cauldron. Essence briefly melts from the creatures's muzzle, revealing more rows of teeth than a canine would find strictly necessary. When the sphere touches the edge of the flame, the demon stops, standing perfectly still.)
You nod slightly.
Wylnar holds his breath.
(Missoni steps toward the scaffold, her gaze focused in concentration on the balefire and the demon above it. The flames climb higher until the sphere is engulfed. The fire bends around the glass orb rather than touching it directly. Still, the glass begins to melt, small rivulets forming at the edges as it liquifies, yet the dog does not flinch.)
You hold out your hand, palm facing up, and concentrate on its central point.  Slowly, particles begin to coalesce with a unified will in your hand.  One by one, petals dark as twilight begin to blossom up, taking the shape of a rosebud.  Specks of colorless pollen appear within the flower as the rest of the details are filled in.  After a moment, a perfectly-shaped black essence rose lies across your hand.
Wylnar takes a step back away from the heat, though he's careful to not let the heels of his boots cross the circle.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you note, "I do not like how it is... leaking. I am going to mend it with a bit of essence."
Wylnar nods to you.
(Missoni sends a few tendrils of essence from the rose toward the glass sphere, where they seeps into the thin cracks marring the glass' surface. The glass appears to mend around the small fissures, and the mithril filaments appear untouched but slightly blackened.)
You quickly throw the black essence rose towards a lazy wild blood red dog and focus upon its exterior.  As the black essence rose travels through the air, it quickly begins to shift and reform into a slender essence stiletto that moves even faster through the air.  The essence stiletto strikes a lazy wild blood red dog over its heart where it shatters into thin tendrils of darkness upon impact.
Wylnar nearly stumbles over the circle during his complete unprepared dodge of the rose.
(Missoni motions to the blood red dog, who takes a few steps backward. The flame dies to a low flicker. Missoni extends her hand to the dog, waiting for the glass to cool before she lets it drop into her waiting hand. Cracks no longer mar the surface. Rather, it appears smooth and whole, but webbed internally by the faint, silvery lines of essence that mended it together.)
The dog paws at the ground, and its fur twitches and quivers for a moment.
Wylnar licks some spilled whiskey off the heel of his palm.
A lazy wild blood red dog gives a cracked night-dark sphere wound in thread-thin mithril strands to you.
The dog paws at the ground, and its fur twitches and quivers for a moment.
You surreptitiously glance at Wylnar.
Notably, the sense of dread does not return as you hold the mended sphere.
Wylnar looks thoughtfully at you.
The dog cocks its head to one side and raises its muzzle up into the air, sniffing anxiously.  After a moment, the fur of its ruff bristles, and it begins to growl at the shadows.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "Quite simple, really. I think it will hold easily, so long as you do not go throwing it around again."
You gaze thoughtfully at your night-dark sphere.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar notes, "I didn't throw it in the first place."
You glance skeptically at Wylnar.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "Well, whomever did."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Overeager Vaalorians decided to attack first, ask questions later."
You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Caused the original... holder to drop it when they inevitably died to a bunch of stab wounds."
Wylnar gazes heavenward.
You grimace.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Then nobody could find it... There were snakes everywhere..."
Wylnar waves his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "There should be no more snakes, at least..."
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar asks, "Typical Vaalorians, really, right?"
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I have known them to be quite disciplined, really."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "To be fair, they'd been being attacked by pirates left and right the whole trip through the bog."
Wylnar ponders.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Probably seemed wise to swing first. I guess they didn't see what they were holding."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Was kind of dark and crowded down there."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "Or they thought it was some sort of weapon."
You realize there are some important matters you should tend to . . . later.
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Wylnar shrugs.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "I have seen such things explode."
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar asks, "How does it look?"
Like a cage of finespun sugar, threads of mithril envelope the sphere, making it difficult to trace the vaelfyren veins running throughout.  The blackened mithril pales in comparison to the intense darkness of the glass, beneath which a smoky haze roils.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Well, grateful it didn't do that."
(Missoni holds the night-dark sphere up in the light.)
Wylnar leans in to study the sphere.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "It looks quite good, really."
Wylnar nods approvingly.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "Much better."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "And it has lost that sense of foreboding."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "I suppose that essence worked, then."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you muse, "What is to be its fate next?"
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Well, one of my buyers fell through..."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "So, auction perhaps?"
Speaking in Elven, you surprisedly say, "Auction."
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Exclusive guest list."
Speaking interestedly in Elven to Wylnar, you ask, "How much were you hoping to fetch for it?"
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Just trying to fetch Gasen, honestly."
Wylnar rummages through a vivid pink linen cape with arabesque-stitched edging searching with intent, but it quickly becomes apparent he's not got a clue where to look.
Speaking skeptically in Elven to Wylnar, you ask, "You are so fond of the boy?"
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Bounty."
Wylnar removes a Vornavis promissory note from in his pink linen cape.
You nod slowly.
Wylnar offers you a Vornavis promissory note.  Click ACCEPT to accept the offer or DECLINE to decline it.  The offer will expire in 30 seconds.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "Have you any--"
You accept Wylnar's offer and are now holding a Vornavis promissory note.
You nod appreciatively at Wylnar.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I will see that this is given to our local orphans."
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar asks, "Not keeping it?"
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar asks, "Heart of gold, hm?"
Speaking lightly in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I engage in a bit of philanthropy."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "But I am curious as to what the pirates might want with this."
You brush your fingers lightly against your night-dark sphere.
Wylnar lets out a barking laugh.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Quiet your mouth. Philanthropy is a four-letter word."
You gaze in amusement at Wylnar.
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "It's not what they think it is."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you ask, "What is it, then?"
Wylnar shrugs at you.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Not sure, but it's not what they're looking for."
Speaking in Elven, you amusedly ask, "What do they *think* it is?"
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar vaguely says, "Something else."
You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "All that matters is they think it's what they were looking for long enough to set up a trade for Gasen."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar wryly asks, "Do I get it back?"
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I am discreet, of course, but--"
Speaking in Elven, you exclaim, "Oh, do not be so nervous!"
You offer your night-dark sphere to Wylnar, who has 30 seconds to accept the offer.  Click CANCEL to prematurely cancel the offer.
Wylnar has accepted your offer and is now holding a vaelfyren-veined night-dark sphere wound in thread-thin mithril strands.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "A healthy dose of paranoia keeps me alive."
Wylnar carefully inspects his night-dark sphere.
Wylnar nods approvingly.
Wylnar put a vaelfyren-veined night-dark sphere wound in thread-thin mithril strands in his pink linen cape.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "I only want to ensure that they will not be able to do harm with it."
Speaking in Elven, you say, "But I suppose if it was broken for so long... I imagine it would take more skilled sorcerer than they have to coax anything else from it."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "S'what I was thinking."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you note, "If you do decide to auction it, I hope you will let me know."
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Of course."
Speaking in Elven, you say, "It would make a nice showpiece, if nothing else."
Speaking in Elven to you, Wylnar says, "Your help has been invaluable. I'll be sure to tell the Inquisitors."
You nod appreciatively at Wylnar.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Reputation matters."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar wryly adds, "Doesn't always have to be a good reputation."
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you say, "Mine is, I hope."
You grin wryly.
Speaking in Elven to Wylnar, you ask, "Would you like any more whiskey before I show you out?"
Wylnar glances at a honeycomb-etched glass of peated whiskey on a long paint-marred table.
Wylnar nods to you.
Wylnar pours himself a honeycomb-etched glass of peated whiskey.
You nod slightly.
Retrieving your steel key from your person, you unlock and open a keyhole-shaped door.
You and your group flounce into a keyhole-shaped door amidst a diffuse cloud of prismatic glitter.

[Vornavis, Dondraek Lane]
Following the curvature of the city's walls, the cobblestone street travels in a gentle incline to the north.  Columnar lampposts glow with a steady, bright light that dispels the shadows of night that linger this close to the city's walls.  Brownstone homes rise in tidy rows down the lane, their faces illuminated by smaller globes that dot the pathways leading through their small yards to their doors.
Obvious paths: north, southeast
Wylnar followed.
A lazy wild blood red dog arrives.
Wylnar takes a drink from his peated whiskey.
Wylnar looks rather relaxed.
Wylnar nods to the blood red dog.
Speaking in Elven to a lazy wild blood red dog, Wylnar says, "Excellent work to you, too."
You smile.
Speaking in Elven, you cheerfully say, "He is a good boy."
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "I'll be on my way, before Jaranzair randomly hobbles in or something."
Wylnar smirks.
Speaking in Elven, Wylnar says, "Thank you, again."
You gaze in amusement at Wylnar.
You notice your companion Wylnar slip away into hiding.
Speaking in Elven, you say, "And thank you."
You turn around.
Speaking in Elven, the voice of Wylnar says, "Not that he could catch up."
Speaking in Elven, you wish, "Safe travels."
Speaking in Elven, you say, "I am sure he moves quicker than one might thing."
Speaking in Elven, you say, "Think, rather."