"Quest for a Song"

Log Date:
	1/4/00

Log Cast:
	Kiera, Faanshi, Tink, Gaelius, Tiberius

Log Intro:
	Faanshi has finally finished her duty with Clan Behzad, as the crisis
in that benighted Clan has ended with the overthrow of its mad Warlord Sakhr
by his Nayaka Numair -- without much in the way of fanfare for the young
shudra returning to her usual work within Atesh-Gah. This is all to the 
liking of Faanshi, whose only desire is to re-establish contact with those
few people who are near and dear to her after her weeks-long absence. 
Finding her teacher FallingStar is not difficult, but the halfbreed girl is
much disturbed to find no trace of the Mongrel bard Lyre Talespinner, or of
her hound Kosha, left in Lyre's care.
	She has not even bothered to try to locate her errant mistress Kiera,
resigned to Kiera's deliberate avoidance of Atesh-Gah so long as Thalia
Tritonides Khalida dwells there. For months now, Faanshi's contact with
the winged halfbreed she theoretically serves has been more or less dictated
by when Kiera chooses to find _her_ -- and thus, the healer is surprised
and pleased to receive a summons from Kiera, bidding her meet the other
halfbreed outside the Varati citadel. Faanshi hastens to find her mistress,
not expecting that the meeting will give her a glimpse into the graisha
wind-mage's dealings with Empyreans... or that an Empyrean bard will make
of Kiera a stunning request...

*===========================< In Character Time >===========================*
             Time of day:  Afternoon
          Date on Aether:  Thursday, October 26, 3905.
           Year on Earth:  1505 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Waxing Crescent
                  Season:  Fall
                 Weather:  Clear Skies
             Temperature:  Warm
*==========================================================================*

You pass between the massive pillars flanking the entrance to Atesh-Gah and 
  return to the street.
Palisade and North - Haven
     Some have likened the Varati home to a geode--rough and plain on the 
  outside, while opulence and splendor lie within. Certainly the first part of 
  that analogy is true. The only hint that these buildings house the more 
  prominent members of Varati society are their size. Massive structures loom 
  on either side of the street, crafted from brick, marble, granite, and even 
  metal.
     And here, also, is the grand embassy of the Varati. Only shaping magic 
  could have created such a structure, for it gives the impression of having 
  grown out of the earth itself. Like the others, its decoration is minimal, 
  yet flowing curves and the use of obsidian and marble make such 
  ornamentation unnecessary. Flanked by stone pillars, the entranceway is 
  constantly guarded by sentinels who may as well be stone themselves, so 
  humorless are they. Only guests of the kingdom and ambassadors from other 
  realms may pass within.
     A gate leads out of the city to a road that eventually winds into the 
  distant, northern mountains, though few ever dare venture that far.
Contents:
Kiera
Obvious exits:
Atesh-Gah <AG>  Streets <S,E,W>  Gate <N>

The area outside the gates of Atesh-Gah is necessarily vast, for it is here, 
  as well as within, that the parade of dignitaries must assemble. And when 
  those parades are not assembling, the merchants often line up on the free 
  space, blankets keeping their wares from the cobbled roads and delineating 
  their space, their turf. And here, surveying those wares over her sedate 
  pace, is Kiera. She'd stopped at the gate long enough to request of a Guard 
  to have someone inform Faanshi Khalida, that Kiera was without.

The message is passed readily enough, and if the guard has any problems with 
  relaying a message for a halfbreed _to_ a halfbreed, the man gives no sign 
  of it. Well-trained and stoic as any sentry of the Varati is, the big fellow 
  does his duty... and in short order, it brings results in the form of a 
  Faanshi once again clad in her familiar garments. Notably, she is without 
  the presence of her familiar dog, however. She comes hastening out through 
  the gates, the gaze of her haggard, hollowed green eyes shooting in several 
  directions in an attempt to determine her mistress's whereabouts.

Kiera is, still, the only brown-winged, slight halfbreed female in the area. 
  And she's keeping a half-an-eye, or perhaps a guardian breeze, alert to 
  changes at the front gate, so you'll actually see Kiera's turning toward 
  you, stepping forward and across the cobbles, only stopping to allow a dung 
  wagon by. The dung wagon is followed, suddenly, by a gust of fresh air from 
  above, sweepign away its accompanying odors.

In Faanshi's estimation, there are a good number of things that smell worse 
  than a dung wagon, though she does crinkle her nose underneath her veil even 
  as she catches sight of you and turns with a soft gasp in your direction. 
  "Imphada Kiera," she can be heard to breathe, "I am most relieved to see 
  you...!"

"I am sorry, Faanshi, that I have not come sooner. I had forgotten the time." 
  The time that has passed. "You are well?" That vile creature who masquarades 
  as the Queen of the Varati has not been abusing you? --That, actually, is a 
  private joke of Kiera's. Kiera knows nothing about Thalia, except that she 
  was, as a prisoner, quiet and reclusive and that she is a 'noble' Empyrean.

For the first time in several weeks, Faanshi is comfortable with actually 
  looking someone in the eye; it helps immensely that this is her Imphada 
  Kiera before her, not to mention that she is once again in her own clothing 
  and in her own element, though she keenly misses her ever-loyal hound even 
  now. Her veil as always hides most of her face... but around the corners of 
  her eyes are visible dark hollows, suggesting she is less than properly 
  rested. Nevertheless she declares earnestly, "I am... better, Imphada, now 
  that the duty on which I was sent is over. I-I had hoped to find you -- to 
  tell you that I came back from that duty, and also that the Maharani asked 
  to see you!"

Stillness, now, marks Kiera's visage. Her wings had been coming forward, in a 
  sort of feathery brush that she reserves for only Timin and rarely, you, 
  where her primaries would breeze over your skirts before returning behind 
  Kiera. "You were sent to heal? Where? And how did this go?" Let's just 
  ignore the part about the Mahrani.

"Clan Behzad, Imphada." Faanshi draws near enough for quiet conversation, and 
  for once her voice drops down to an even more quiet level than usual. "They 
  were in... great need. They were suffering. Their Warlord..." She pauses, 
  unwilling even now to speak ill of one who so greatly outranks her, but the 
  troubled look that sweeps across her expressive eyes is all too clear. 
  "He... had become... like Hashim, Imphada."

Kiera nods, though if she understands, she hides it well. "Are you well?" That 
  seems to be the primary concern. "Your..." Kiera catches herself, keeps from 
  adding adjectives, "The beast that usually howls for you is not here." That 
  dog.

Faanshi is exhausted, drained of much of her strength, though that has begun 
  returning with a few nights of decent sleep. What she says, however, is a 
  soft and stoic "I am well enough..." Then her eyes lighten a little above 
  the azure veil, though her tone remains wistful as she goes on, "I was not 
  allowed to take Kosha into Clan Behzad... Lyre has been taking care of him 
  for me, and I was going to go and look for them, but then you sent for 
  me...!"

Kiera thinks about this. I sent for you. I... Sent...For...You. "When did I 
  send for you?" Kiera wonders briefly if old age sets in on halfbreeds early. 
  If perhaps this is the beginning of the end and she's goign to go senile 
  before she bears her first child.

The healer girl can be seen to blink. "You sent a message," she explains. 
  "Just now. The naraki came with the message that you were out here..." 
  Bemused, Faanshi tilts her blue-covered head slightly sideways.

Oh! "Oh, you were about to go -now- and get the beast. I see. Yes. I had come 
  by some days ago and had heard that She had returned, so I left before I saw 
  you. And here I thought this morning I would see if you were here, from 
  without. And so you are. How goes the teaching wth the mage Samien?" Kiera 
  ran into /him/, as well. Her voice doesn't leak so much acid on the man's 
  name.

And Faanshi is not entirely insensitive to that vocal contempt, either. 
  Sheepishly, she murmurs, "I have not been able to receive teaching, while I 
  was at Clan Behzad, imphada. I have to find my teachers as well, the Imphadi 
  Samein, and the Imphada Fallingstar...." Then, in almost childlike hopeful 
  tones, she adds, "But I think... perhaps my power has changed...!"

"Changed?" The question lingers, even as Kiera glances up and down the street, 
  then into the air. Something - there. Oh. A bird spirals down and lands in 
  the gardens of Atesh-Gah, and the winged halfbreed's attention returns to 
  you.

"Yes, Imphada -- I have been healing... many people. I think..." Faanshi pulls 
  in a breath, just as unwilling to speak overmuch of herself as she had been 
  to speak ill of the Warlord of behzad, but she has less trouble saying this 
  than she had the other. "I might have more power now. I-I do not know yet."

Tink arrives from the south.
Tink has arrived.

Kiera's face blooms with a smile, and she reaches to touch Faanshi's shoulder, 
  "See? Did I not say that this would be? That you would get control, that you 
  had the power, because of what you are? The purebloods, they brag, but it is 
  the get of their illegal crossings, that have the true power. You will 
  learn. And you still wish to be Ushtashi?" Kiera, a brown-winged halfbreed 
  dressed in homemade Sylvan-type clothes, stands near the middle of the road 
  with another woman, one dressed head-to-toe in formal Varati garb.

Tink creeps toward Kiera and Faanshi, stopping her hurried pace through the 
  Rialto to listen to a conversation which obviously fascinates her.

Tink
Unruly cascades of dark brown hair falls about her shoulders, trickling in a 
  long current down her back. A few strands fall in front of her face, drawing 
  attention to her chocolate brown eyes that glint and flash narrowly in an 
  almost almondine shape. Her lips are narrow, but they curve up easily in a 
  smile that graces her face. Poking through the mane of brown hair, one can 
  see the points of her ears.
Her skin is on the olive side, partially due to the sun, and partially due to 
  her natural complexion. The emerald green scarf that wraps around her torso 
  does nothing to hide how slender, almost gaunt she is. It also leaves her 
  shoulders bare, albeit hidden mostly by the tangles of hair that rest there. 
  Another quick glance over her form reveals how diminuitive she really is, 
  standing at shoulder height of most people. Legs are covered in brown 
  leather, her feet bare but seemingly untouched by the earth.

Caught between a surge of pleasure at Kiera's open praise and an equally 
  palpable surge of unsettled nervousness at the mention of her future 
  potential fate, Faanshi draws in a deep sigh. Her eyes turn full and bright 
  over her veil, and with a tentative hand she returns the shoulder-clasp 
  Kiera has given her... though far more hesitantly, as though even her 
  mistress is someone she is uncertain about touching. "I... would like it," 
  she murmurs, "but I have... not been able to speak with any of the women who 
  serve the Holy Mother, not yet...!"

"Where are they?" Gone? On some mission? Equally as disgusted as Kiera with 
  the current regieme? Hiding? Praying? Maybe Khalid's mother doesn't approve 
  of his current match, either, and /she's/ dragged her priestesses away in 
  protest. That thought warms the halfbreed, who does glance up and over at 
  Tink's approach. Kiera studies this new woman, taking in details of weight 
  and garb as if it is not rude to do so. Then she looks back at Faanshi. "You 
  may tell the Mahrani that you have delivered the message. And that I had no 
  response."

Tink listens, very carefully, but tries to make her presence as unnoticeable 
  as possible. Her eyes widen at the words that the halfbreeds say, as her 
  lowly station prevents her from making any choices about her own future. But 
  her dominus, Gaelius, has treated her with more respect than she ever 
  thought she deserved, and her face flushes with the thought of new 
  possibilities.

"Well..." Faanshi pauses, unsure. She has met several women as of late that 
  she _thinks_ are priestesses of the Lady of the Dawn, though none of them 
  have outright confirmed such a thing for her. And so she is forced to 
  content herself with admitting, "I do not know, Imphada." At Kiera's further 
  words she nods, slowly, with uncertain eyes. "I will do as you request," she 
  promises. And then she blurts in hopeful tones, "Are you in Haven more, now? 
  Do you wish to meet with me?" A pause, and then she concludes, "Have you 
  been well, Imphada? I have worried..."
Faanshi, for the time being, seems rather more oblivious to the ardently 
  eavesdropping young Mongrel than Kiera does. But then... Faanshi is no 
  huntress, and has not a huntress's senses.

Gaelius strolls in from the east along Palisade.
Gaelius has arrived.

"I am not often here, no, Faanshi. I have...I had ruined my forest. So I had 
  replanted it, with the Sylvan's help, and their magic allowed it to grow 
  and..." Kiera's been struck by the gardener's bug. She checks on her new 
  trees thoroughly and regularly, noting wounds or illnesses, the new branch 
  and the new leaves, the flowers and the changes wrought in the soil. "It is 
  interesting, there. So I have not returned. I came again, to see you, when I 
  realized that two moons had passed. I am sorry. Do you wish," Kiera offers, 
  momentarily forgetting that the Queen is Back, "That I speak with the 
  Khalid, regarding the Ushasti? Are you ready yet, Faanshi?" A halfbreed and 
  a green-eyed Varati-dressed woman stand near the center of the courtyard 
  outside of the gates of Atesh-Gah, speaking. Kiera had noted Tink, and does 
  glance up when someone seems to come within twenty feet of her. Light 
  breezes swirl around the area, in a circular pattern that the truely 
  observant would note uses Kiera as a hub.

Tink immediately assumes a position more becoming of her servant status. She 
  keeps her eyes lowered in the presence of her dominus, and retreats to his 
  side. Her glance still flickers to both Kiera and Faanshi, particularly to 
  Kiera, whom she now eyes with more suspicion. She waits with a patience 
  formed from many years of humility and from having a life lived for others.

Her signs of nervousness are subtle, but still, the willowy young maiden in 
  sari and veil can be seen to shift restlessly where she stands in 
  conversation with the smaller and winged figure of her mistress. "I... was 
  permitted to speak with the Amir-al on the matter," she murmurs tinily. "The 
  Most High seems... to not wish to involve Himself in the matters of the 
  Ushasti women, Imphada. I do not know if he would say differently to you... 
  I am but a shudra." Perhaps somewhere under that azure veil there's a smile, 
  but it is as difficult to tell as always. Faanshi's eyes express 
  awkwardness, however. "I only wish... I could see you more often! I do not 
  have very many friends and I miss you...!" She takes a small step forward 
  unthinkingly, gripped by a surge of heartfelt emotion despite her nervous 
  stance.

"I should take you to see my forest, Faanshi. To see the woods and how the 
  trees grow, and how the sky comes over the mountains in the dawn, and the 
  wolves come to drink from my pool at night, after they have hunted. And you 
  are my shudra, yes? So I could do this, since your duty is first to me, 
  yes?" Kiera really sincerely doesn't know. One doesn't learn so much about 
  Varati culture from standing on stable rooftops. "Would you like to see 
  this? My woods?"

Whistling comes faintly from the east, growing closer, until the sounds become 
  clearer, and sharper. It sounds almost like a piece of a war march song, the 
  kind that soldiers hum and sing as they go crashing into battle. It's coming 
  from a winged man, an Empyrean from the looks of it, his sandaled footsteps 
  in perfect cadence with his song, adding rhythm and beat. Silver and gold 
  hair sways behind him, with each footstep that he takes.

Tink follows after, eyes waiting for her master's next move.

Delight brightens Faanshi's big leaf-colored eyes at Kiera's suggestion. "I 
  have not seen a forest since I rode to Avalon and back," she breathes -- 
  only to abruptly cut herself off as the whistling reaches her. What, music? 
  Music makes her think inevitably of a certain Mongrel of her acquaintance, 
  and all at once her sari-covered head swivels in Gaelius's direction. Her 
  entire frame might be noted to straighten up in a reflexive surge of hope -- 
  and just as reflexive is the disappointment that slumps her shoulders as she 
  realizes that the winged individual coming down the street is _not_ Lyre 
  Talespinner.

Kiera's regard, wide-eyed, unblinking and far less readable than Faanshi's, 
  follows the other womans and likewise lingers upon the approaching Empyrean. 
  Kiera only flicks her gaze away to note Tink, again, before she looks to the 
  man once more and murmurs quietly to Faanshi, "This is not your musician."

Gaelius
Long golden hair, reminding one of sunshine, is touched with streaks of silver 
  by the Sun's lover, the Moon, almost tenderly. It would be an unruly mass, 
  cascading down his shoulders, if it weren't for the braid that he keeps his 
  mane in. Equally as intense are his laughing green eyes, framed by slight 
  tinges of crow's feet that doesn't do anything to detract from his 
  demeanour, but rather adds to it. His smile is what defines his lips, 
  dimpling his cheeks, wide and generous. If it weren't for the laughing eyes, 
  and the smile, he would've been rather patrician.
This Empyrean is garbed in warrior's armor -- a very worn looking, but 
  serviceable set -- leather cuirass draped over his slender torso, greaves 
  and gauntlets protecting his extremities. Like all Empyreans, he is slender, 
  but he has well toned muscles that indicate that he keeps himself in some 
  shape. Draped over one hip is the scabbard holding his short sword. But, 
  what seems to be a marked contrast to his warrior-nature, is the lute that's 
  slung over his back.

Conflicting emotions cross Tink's face like the clouds which brew in an 
  oncoming storm. She is torn between genuine pleasure at seeing her master, 
  and slight irritation that he seems to have caught the attentions of the two 
  she was listening to before. She waits, unsure, for him to move, half-hoping 
  that he will try to engage them in conversation.

Swallowing hard behind her veil, her gaze turning strangely distracted, 
  Faanshi slowly shakes her head. "No, Imphada," she confirms, though Kiera 
  really hadn't asked a question. "Lyre is a Mongrel, and he is..." The shudra 
  girl pauses, a multitude of words -- and concepts for which she as of yet 
  has no real words -- colliding in her head as she speaks with the smaller 
  halfbreed. "He is... rather more brown."

The whistling grows louder, as Gaelius plays his battle march song with all 
  the versatility of a woodwinds instrument, feet still clomping a perfect 
  counterpoint to his music. His hands clap together, punctuating the swells 
  and tides of his music, along with a shuffle and hop. Sweat covers his 
  entire body, even as he draws nearer the trio, green eyes drawn, quite 
  interested. A halfbreed from the looks of it, a veiled shudra, and his 
  mongrel slave.

"And this one," Kiera hides a slight smile that Faanshi might notice in 
  Kiera's eyes or hands or the tilt of her wings, but which does not show upon 
  her lips, "Is not brown. Pity." The rather brown, winged halfbreed draws her 
  regard once more down the man's form. Openly, clinically. He is, after all, 
  making a display of himself and sweating at it. Seems the least Kiera could 
  do, to see it all, as presented. "The Empyreans would look so much better," 
  Kiera returns to Faanshi, "If they were not white."

Tink tamps her feet, unconsciously, to the rhythm that Gaelius produces with 
  the steps he takes. She cannot help but move as well in time with the 
  whistling. Her musical ability is born, not of natural talent, but of 
  spending time listening to melody upon melody of her master's creation. She 
  snaps aware, and her eyes become saucers as she realizes that Kiera has 
  openly criticized her dominus. She watches his face intently to try to gauge 
  his reaction to her opinion.

As soon as Gaelius is within range -- and, it seems, approaching them -- 
  Faanshi draws in an unsettled little breath and drops her gaze swiftly down 
  to the hands she holds before her. She cannot exactly be described as 
  experienced in such things, but it seems to the shudra girl that 
  sweat-sheened Empyrean men are not exactly a safe place upon which to rest 
  her attention. And Ushas! Where did that image in her head of Lyre 
  displaying similar signs of exertion come from? Faanshi blushes crimson 
  under her veil and can only manage a mumble of "I-I would not know, Imphada" 
  to Kiera.

A long exhaling breath almost wheezed out from Gaelius, even as he comes to an 
  abrupt stop, ending his music in a climatical way. He has heard the words 
  spoken between the two women. Green eyes look amused, "As much as I'd like 
  to be brown ... " a glance towards the sun, " ... as much as it'd make 
  things easier for me ... " a quick grin, "Alas, all what happens is that I 
  get sunburnt badly, imphada." a respectful nod towards the halfbreed, his 
  breathing harsh with exertion, a quick glance towards his mongrel slave, a 
  twinkle of a greeting in his eyes.

"If you would look, Faanshi--" Kiera stops herself then, Khalid's words 
  resurfacing on the top of her mind, about Faanshi's fate, if she ceases to 
  act as a good Varati woman should. "Do not look, Faanshi." That last spoken 
  more methodically, less alive, even as Kiera steps slightly to the front of 
  the taller woman, the halfbreed taking what appears to be a somewhat 
  protective stance with respect to the two approaching. Kiera's wings relax 
  enough that Faanshi could see over Kiera's shoulders, but by and large they 
  keep Faanshi from casual regard. And then, upon being greeted by this man 
  who assumes her to be Varati - by reputation becuase it's certaintly not by 
  dress - Kiera nods slightly, "Dominus." The title is spoken carefully, not 
  particularly used. "Did you seek me?" Either Kiera rolled a way low initial 
  score in the Tact and Social Graces section of her character sheet, or she 
  has an immense ego.

Dipping her head to acknowledge her master's presence, and covertly to conceal 
  a sigh of relief, Tink grins wryly, and remembers that her dominus is not as 
  cruel or as quick to anger as his predecessors. She watches Kiera closely, 
  noting her stature and deducing that Kiera is of higher station than the one 
  she seems to protect. Her eyes travel to and fro, from dominus to halfbreed.

A shake of that silver and gold hair, the sole Empyrean in the scene smiling 
  warmly at Kiera, "No, imphada." a simple reply to a simple question, even as 
  he attempts to regain control of his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. 
  "But, I confess interest in you, so it might indeed have been fortunate that 
  I have found you." a thoughtful pause, "I had heard of you, by reputation, 
  and have thought that your tale, and you, would be worthy of a ballad." 
  another nod, "With your permission, of course."

Oh, sweet Holy Mother, Faanshi will most assuredly not be looking. Not unlike 
  the obediently attentive Tink who has focused every fiber of her awareness 
  upon the actions of this Empyrean man, the veiled shudra now waits quietly 
  behind the winged Kiera. Her stance was already a demure one; now it is 
  positively humble, with her soft green gaze lowered downward. Kiera's 
  wings... now _there_ are safe things at which she might stare.

Tink cannot conceal a smile. She gathers information throught the music of her 
  master, and this conversation, and the history behind it, is something she 
  is most interested in. She tries to observe Faanshi through Kiera's wings, 
  however, noticing with sad empathy the humility and discomfiture of the 
  shudra. Still, she beams, happy to indulge herself in enjoying her dominus's 
  skill with words and music.

A...? Kiera shifts enough sideways so that she can one-eye check Faanshi's 
  reaction to this. A ballad? But Faanshi is of no help, and so Kiera looks 
  back at the musician. "You believe that I am worthy of a ballad, Dominus?" A 
  ballad. Probably some sort of weapon, or a tortorous form of death, if it is 
  suggested to Kiera by an Empyrean. Perhaps if Kiera /acts/ like she knows 
  what this is, the explanation will come up in context. So she falls silent, 
  a manner most comfortable to her, and studies this man fully, her head 
  tilted back, her gaze unblinking.

A firm definitive nod from Gaelius, eyebrows arching, "Indeed, a ballad." a 
  smile, green eyes gazing over the halfbreed, noting every bit of her 
  features. If there was any loathing or hatred on the part of this Empyrean, 
  then, he's doing a very good job indeed. "I would be honored to write a 
  ballad, an epic storytelling song about you, imphada." a gesture with his 
  hands, light traces of old scars covering his flesh, "Because, surely, you 
  are the most interesting person to learn about in all Haven."

Tiberius steps through the gates to the north and enters Haven.
Tiberius has arrived.

Kiera stands, her habitual wide-eyed staring regard pinned upon the Empyrean 
  Gaelius. Behind her somewhat outstretched wings stands Faanshi, examining 
  her hands or Kiera's wings, or something quite Safer than the bold and 
  brash, sweat-stained and glistening Empyrean male. And beside Gae is Tink, 
  who listens, who watches.

Tiberius enters, yes, through the northern gates, alone and on foot as might 
  befit a penitent. Although penitent is something he does not, at the moment, 
  seem. Especially not with a small leather satchel slung over his shoulder by 
  a strap-- just a rudely worked bag of hide, really, that's already beginning 
  to stiffen up and smell.

Faanshi is not of much help, but she does start perceptibly at this suggestion 
  of a song -- and despite Kiera's protectively sheltering wings keeping most 
  of her from view. She holds her tongue, however, for she has not been 
  addressed. But she also risks a fleeting, furtive peek at this unfamiliar 
  bard, unable to banish a small tendril of hope: perhaps, just perhaps, he 
  might know Lyre. And if he knows Lyre, perhaps he could tell Faanshi where 
  to find him...

Tink bites her lower lip to keep from assuming a most unbecoming visage. 
  Though the words her sensitive hearing has picked up from Kiera's furvent 
  speech have instilled awe in the lowly servant, she cannot help being amused 
  by Kiera's obvious lack of comfort. She waits, almost grinning, to see what 
  the reaction is to her dominus's uncharacteristic flattery. Tink does, 
  however, slightly turn her attention away from the small group of people 
  before her to inspect this new intrusion.

"I do not think," Kiera finally manages, quietly, "That any story about me, 
  sung by an Empyrean, would be.... Flattering. Nor interesting to any but 
  those who hate me." Which, of course, would make it a perfect song for 
  Empyreans to listen to, indeed. Kiera's gaze flicks over to the other 
  entering Empyrean, Tiberius, and it rides him for a few moments, before she 
  glances back up to Gaelius. "What is it that you think you would write in 
  this -ballad-," new word, "Dominus?" Look, Tiberius. Kiera learned an 
  Empyrean word.

Tiberius halts. /Almost/ in his tracks. In his tracks, if you don't count his 
  gentle swaying back and forth, as if mildly inebriated. He doesn't, however, 
  have that shiny-eyed machismo that drink imparts to so /many/ men. Not at 
  this stage, at least. Pausing, and stifling a sigh behind closed fist (he 
  turns the sound into a slight cough), watery blue eyes take in and then 
  dismiss Gaelius and Tink. They linger for a moment or two on Faanshi-- 
  halfbreed-- and pause for quite a bit longer on Kiera.

A glance over Kiera's shoulder by Gaelius, green eyes falling upon the shudra. 
  A warm smile is given to the other woman, a jaunty wink dropping. "You 
  mistake my intentions in singing a song about you, imphada." his voice 
  quieter now, "I strive for the truth in my songs. Only then, can my songs be 
  truly great, for that listeners can hear the truth in them." his head 
  shakes, gold and silver braid swaying, "Which is why I would ask you, 
  imphada, about yourself, rather than ask those that might hate you. If I 
  were to listen to them, then my songs would be twisted and full of hate, and 
  that would grieve me."

Really, that wouldn't bother Kiera. But she has a question, that might seem 
  completely discordant to the present conversation: "Are you a noble 
  Empyrean, Dominus?" The woman's wings pull in just enough to seem marginally 
  less threatening. And around Tiberius, now, dances a light breeze - brushing 
  across the coverts of his wings, the tendrils of hair around his face.

Oh dear. Why'd he have to wink? Why'd he have to smile that way? Are _all_ 
  bards like that? The tiniest of noises -- it might be a squeak of alarm if 
  it were any more audible -- escapes Faanshi, and swiftly plummets her 
  leaf-hued gaze all over again. It is probably a mercy that she has as of yet 
  not noticed the _second_ Empyrean not far off, giving her and her mistress a 
  startled scrutiny. Futilely -- for after all, she towers over Kiera by a 
  good seven inches -- the shudra tries to make herself look as small as 
  possible.

Tiberius swats at the breeze as if it might be a swarm of insects, nobly-born 
  pale skin going a trifle paler. But on with belling the cat and bearding the 
  lion. Drink taken making for some modicum of both courage and sloshing 
  bowels, he strides forward, executes a mere inclination of his head, and 
  greets Kiera with, "Domina Khalida." And pauses, not expectantly, the smooth 
  diplomatic mind at a loss for what to say next. My, how you've grown? How 
  about Lyceneae? Were you the scourge of the /entire empyrean army/ or what?

Tink lowers her head, in seeming humility, and watches the swaying Empyrean, 
  very, very closely. She inches closer to Gaelius, his large frame making 
  hers seem very slender and diminuitive, indeed. She turns, watches Faanshi, 
  and her mouth purses as she notices Faanshi's gaze dance all over the 
  ground. Tink wonders why her master's general good-nature has done anything 
  to alarm this poor woman.

"Ah." a bow of Gaelius' head towards Kiera, green eyes flashing thoughtfully 
  at the halfbreed woman, "Yes, and no. In a former life, twenty years ago, 
  imphada, I was. Now? I am Gaelius the bard, first." remembered pain 
  flickering over his face, even as his arms cross, showing the profile of his 
  muscles. Green eyes flicker towards Tiberius. And then towards Kiera. Then 
  back at the other Empyrean man, eyebrows furrowed.

Kiera speaks again, quietly, "Are you a 'noble' Empyrean?" This time the 
  emphasis slides through, despite Kiera's attempt to keep the words wholly 
  even. And this time she glances to Tiberius after the question is put. 
  Kiera, being the tactless creature that she is, intones, "I have heard that 
  you kept me from being murdered. And I was instructed to thank you for this, 
  Tiberius Augustin. So I will thank you for keeping me from being murdered." 
  That slight breeze continues to drift around Tiberius at lower pace. And 
  Kiera holds that man's gaze, if he will lend it. "Did you seek me?" She's 
  still listening for your answer, Gaelius, but Kiera has not looked to either 
  servant.

_Another_ one? Faanshi hears Tiberius before she sees him, and wonders in a 
  flash of dismay if Kiera regularly attracts the attention of Empyreans 
  everywhere she goes. The situation seems awfully... awkward... to her, given 
  what little she knows of her mistress's lack of accord (as it were) with the 
  Children of Air. Once more she risks a peek upward, long enough to get a 
  furtive look at Tiberius -- but her head rapidly dips again before she can 
  risk drawing any more notice from the bard, or, for that matter, the new 
  arrival. Any notice she can see, at any rate. Little besides feathers in her 
  immediate field of sight, now.

Tiberius
His features are patrician, finely chiseled and silvering fair-skinned. A long 
  straight nose vies with lips often compressed. Vaguely blue, sardonic eyes 
  skim into grey now and again, often somewhat blurry in their own right. 
  Well-shaped eyebrows arch over those eyes, not sunken into their sockets nor 
  protruding from them.  Silvering fair hair, light as flax in color, is tied 
  carelessly back in a tail, shorter strands of 'bangs' falling into his eyes 
  with every motion that he makes.  Tiberius is slight of build, perhaps five 
  foot three or four, and slender. His movements are supple and quickly 
  decisive, when he chooses to move, smooth lines of his form as designed for 
  rest as for action.
Great arches of feathers, of a soft and glowing white, sweep back, pressing 
  against legs, long primaries and secondaries twisting around Tiberius's 
  ankles. Large and bulky, his wings are often held back, rigidly, pressed 
  against his shoulders and sides.  Tiberius is clad in a pale chimere, 
  ash-grey in color. Over and around it, loosely, is wrapped a silk toga 
  embroidered with charcoal thread, and a heavy pallidum of that same charcoal 
  color. A huge aquamarine, set in silver, carelessly clasps his wrist, and 
  its match and mate, of the same size color and clarity, hangs on a silver 
  chain about his throat. Oddly enough, for a winged man, his feet are shod in 
  sturdy boots which show signs of wear about the soles.

"Er. Ah. Quite welcome, then. Kiera Kalida." That's not precisely friendliness 
  in Tiber's voice, his ever-present smile somewhat strained. He inclines his 
  head again, and moves off, down the street, with an irregular, unsteady gait.

Tink sighs softly, as she realizes that she is not going to hear any ballads 
  of valiant deeds today. Her betters are going to posture for a while. She 
  loses interest in the verbal sparring between the two Empyreans and the 
  halfbreed and watches Faanshi, wondering if she is really as timid as she 
  seems, or if she merely assumes the posture, as Tink must.

Gaelius's chin lifts at Kiera's repeated question, "I am of noble lineage, 
  yes, imphada. My parents were noble, I was born a noble." a shrug of those 
  shoulders, "But, my feet have become callused like no Empyrean lord would, 
  from walking the lands for the last fifteen years. I have slept and eaten 
  under the same roof with commoner Empyreans, Mongrels, and Halfbreeds, in 
  exchange for tales and songs." a tilt of Gaelius' head. "Does this answer 
  your question, imphada?"

No. Not precisely. "I have yet to meet a 'noble' Empyrean, except for the 
  woman who is now your Empyress, who was worth their weight in cow dung, who 
  could be trusted with a word, much less an idea, who would not sink a knife 
  into another's back if it gained them some coin or power. So I have asked 
  you if you were noble, to determine if you could be trusted." Kiera did 
  blink when she switched her regard off the retreating Tiberius and back to 
  Gaelius. And upon him her attention focuses, and those slight breezes crawl 
  over his sweating body with a chill that suggests an increase in the 
  electricity in the air.

Either Faanshi _is_ as nervous and timid as she seems -- or else she's a very 
  good actress. The subtle way she starts as Kiera speaks to Tiberius of 
  something as shocking as murder is undeniable, and so is the little gasp 
  that sounds somewhere behind her blue veil. Just as gleanable to Tink's 
  curious eyes might also be the anxiety in the shudra's, as Kiera returns her 
  storm-blunt attention to Gaelius. Faanshi does not have her beloved dog, and 
  so she cannot sink her fingers into Kosha's soft fur to give herself 
  something to do with her hands. Instead, she holds them clasped at her 
  breast, her knuckles whitening with the force of her uneasy grip.

Tink cocks her head in disbelief. Does this halfbreed really distrust her 
  dominus that much? She switches her dark-eyed gaze to him. She observes the 
  honesty in his green eyes, and the rather pleasant, albeit tired, smile he 
  wears to dissemble. She shakes her head, slightly. She shifts her weight 
  from foot to bare foot, uncomfortable with Kiera's fierce manner.

"Ah, imphada, I have left that life behind." Gaelius' eyebrows arch 
  thoughtfully, his feathers unruffled by the harsh words spoken by Kiera. 
  "Ironically enough, I have the Varati people to thank for it, because it was 
  a Varati arrow through the heart," his hand moving to cover his left breast, 
  "that was the catalyst of it all, that caused me to go into self-imposed 
  exile for the shame of it all. I am no longer who I was, twenty years ago, 
  imphada." a smile, "So, I am not noble. And I rather enjoy it."

"Tell me your name. I will think on it, and I will find you and tell you of my 
  answer." If Kiera remembers. Or, mayhaps, it is a test to determine the 
  bard's persistance. But Kiera has heard the noises within Atesh-Gah that 
  suggest that someone of Importance arrives to the courtyard, and it's likely 
  not unknown that Kiera herself is without those gates. So it is the winged 
  halfbreed who steps back, who touches Faanshi on the shoulder and nods 
  toward the gate: Dismissed. And then Kiera returns her regard on the bard 
  and his servant: "Now, I fly. You may see me around." That may or may not be 
  tacit permission to approach her. The woman doesn't remain to explain; she 
  abruptly turns and pads far enough that she can lift off without overly 
  disturbing others, and that eerie breeze that swept over Gaelius vanishes as 
  Kiera wings over the city.

Tink smiles. That should settle it. She's heard this explanation many times, 
  as the beginnings of her master's assurance that her mistakes would be 
  recognized as such and that she would not be beaten repeatedly for no cause. 
  She works up the resolve, and sends a shy smile Faanshi's way, her own 
  meager reassurance for the timid female who clutches her hands in front of 
  her. She watches Kiera fly, bemusedly, and laughs inside to think of Kiera's 
  surprise when she hears of the ballad written for her.

Faanshi, left abruptly alone by Kiera's taking wing, starts as visibly as if 
  someone had just sent a jolt of some kind of magic coursing through her. She 
  looks up at the touching of her shoulder, but before she can do more than 
  begin a nod her mistress is gone. And the shudra girl is left alone, looking 
  distinctly uncertain of bearing, as she realizes that this also means that 
  she's been left with the bard and his... servant? Slave? Faanshi does not 
  know what would be used by the Empyreans, and this lack in her knowledge 
  adds another layer of nervousness to her thoughts as she hesitantly turns 
  her attention as far back to the bard as decorum can allow her. "Do you..." 
  At last, the softest and shyest of voices makes itself heard from behind her 
  veil. "Wish me to take a message to my mistress, dominus?" She _can_ speak! 
  Still, though, the shudra girl does not look up.

Green eyes watch the halfbreed named Kiera take off into the skies, watching 
  her fade away in the horizon for a while, before they flicker to regard 
  Faanshi with thoughtful regard. "Indeed, I do ... " a thoughtful pause, 
  unsure what to call the shudra, instead picking an Empyrean term of respect, 
  " ... domina. However, would you honor me with your name, if such would be 
  permitted me, so that I might know the messenger that I am about to speak my 
  words to Kiera to?" a warm smile, cheeks dimpling at the woman.

A soft whisper..."My dominus is a gentle man, and fair. Please, do not fear 
  him." Tink's brown eyes search Faanshi's face, looking for some response, 
  and half hoping that the shudra will look at her. It pains the servant girl 
  to see one so plainly terrified, as she remembers her own fear, and her 
  struggle to overcome it...her heart goes out to the poor shudra, and she 
  wistfully smiles, wishing that she lived in a world where the two of them 
  could speak plainly.

Warm though that smile may be, Faanshi does not appear to see it; her 
  sari-covered head is still demurely bowed. "My name is Faanshi, dominus," 
  she murmurs in reply, "and I-I am the Imphada Kiera's shudra." A pause, in 
  which she starts anew as Tink speaks in her hearing for the first time. Eyes 
  of a decidedly Sylvan hue of green flicker their gaze sidelong to the 
  Mongrel girl -- and then, for a fleeting instant, to the Empyrean. _Then_ 
  the smile is noted, and Faanshi's gaze immediately drops once more. Unsurely 
  she appends, not knowing whether these two would know the Varati word, "I am 
  her servant."

A pause from the Empyrean bard named Gaelius, his head tilting ever so 
  slightly in thought. His green gaze seems almost a tangible touch, so 
  intense is it upon the shudra woman, another smile. "I would like to learn 
  of the imphada," glances up into the skies, "from the eyes and heart of her 
  most devoted servant." a thoughtful regard, "I would ask that you tell 
  imphada Kiera, that I can usually be found walking the beaches of Haven when 
  she is hunting." a pause, "And, I would beg permission to speak with you, 
  about the imphada."

Tink rolls her shoulders back, and stands a little straighter, as Faanshi 
  makes plain her station. She looks around, and seeing no danger, beams 
  delightedly. She's been waiting for this for a while. Tink's eyes gleam, and 
  she cocks her head, observing the shudra girl impatiently as she waits for 
  Faanshi to speak of Kiera.

"I shall relay the message, dominus," Faanshi answers meekly. Every fiber of 
  her being is urging her to continue her search for Lyre and Kosha -- but 
  she's heard Tink's unprompted support of her master, as well as Gaelius' own 
  admission of his noble birth and his free association with Mongrels... and 
  halfbreeds. People like her. Marginally assured that perhaps this 
  conversation will not be a dangerous one, she straightens up a little and 
  goes on earnestly, "I listen with patient ears." Formal, that phrase, the 
  sort of thing a Varati servant might well say to one who outranks her,
  whether or not he is of her own race.

A thoughtful pause, as Gaelius thinks a moment, arms uncrossing, to gaze at 
  the shudra woman before him, "How did you enter into the imphada Kiera's 
  service?" a fair enough question, isn't it? A good place to start.

Tink blurts, "And how did the Empyrean save her from death?" She immediately 
  covers her mouth with her hand, cringing, her eyes on her master, ready for 
  a blow.

"The Imphada delivered me and my heart-mother from the Warlord of the Clan of 
  my birth, and the Amir-al, Khalid Atar, permitted me to become her servant 
  and live with Clan Khalida." These are the steadiest words uttered by 
  Faanshi thus far, a story with which she is quite obviously long familiar. 
  Then she catches sight of the way Tink shies back, which provokes a flare of 
  what can only be sympathy in thos liquid leaf-colored eyes, and it is to her 
  that she softly and solemnly adds, "I am afraid I do not know that; the 
  Imphada did not choose to confide in me of that incident."

No blow comes from the girl's master, just an amused glance, and a quick grin 
  towards Tink. Then, a bit more seriously, Gaelius' green eyes fall upon the 
  shudra once again. "Hm." softly. "That, in itself, is a tale worthy of a 
  song." a thoughtful pause. "Deliverance, and a kind side to an otherwise 
  seemingly harsh God, the saviour a halfbreed."

A sigh escapes Tink's lips...and she pushes her limits even further: "Has she 
  ever killed anyone while you were there?" She glances at her dominus, 
  stepping slightly away from him, a little more confident in her chances to 
  escape a slap, but still conditioned to fear. She watched Faanshi's green 
  eyes, wishing that her own were as beautiful, as she waits for the answer.

Green are those eyes, and ringed by feathery black lashes that, as long as 
  Faanshi keeps her gaze humbly angled downward, veil her regard almost as 
  effectively as the azure silk she wears veils her face. Gaelius's last words 
  seem to touch her on some deep level, though, and she can be heard to draw 
  in a wondering breath; perhaps the notion of a song about the topic of how 
  Kiera acquired her has never crossed her mind. As she finds the idea a 
  staggering one, she answers Tink first. "I know that Imphada Kiera is a 
  mighty warrior and her temperament is very fierce... but I-I-I have never 
  seen her kill." Then in even more earnest tones she adds to Tink's master, 
  "The Amir-al _is_ harsh... but His mercy warms... even the most humble of 
  His children. The Imphada Kiera, who is His Favored, is like him in this." 
  Apparently this shudra girl finds this concept very fitting... and just as 
  apparently, she is as devoted to the God-King as she is to the winged 
  halfbreed under discussion.

A quick glance from Gaelius towards his slave, "Tink!" at her question, but 
  not anger in his voice, but rather exasperation, mixed with wry humour, as 
  his strong hand reaches out to grasp the mongrel girl's shoulder, squeezing 
  firmly, and gently. "Indeed, the Amir-al seems like a great God, even if he 
  is not one that I know, worship, or revere. Tell me of Him?"

Tink hmmms under her breath. The shudra girl's reverence toward her...Imphada? 
  Confuses her. She regards her own dominus with respect, certainly, and even 
  warmth, but the almost religious awe that Faanshi feels toward Kiera is 
  something that she cannot understand. Masters are masters, and she has 
  learned that they are fallible. One finds their limits, and hides any 
  transgressions. She wonders, though, and watches Faanshi curiously, for her 
  response to Gaelius's inquiry. She is too poor, even for a religion, and the 
  discussion's turn leaves her fascinated.

_This_, too, seems to catch Faanshi by surprise. She blinks several times, her 
  head lifting up just enough for the consternation in her eyes to be seen. 
  Thinking that the bard's request amounts to being asked to speak of the sun, 
  or a mountain, or a thunderstorm, or some other immutable, awesome thing of 
  nature, she is hard-pressed for a proper reply for several moments. "He 
  is... most fair," she then proceeds, with the awkwardness of one who is not 
  at all accustomed to putting her thoughts into words -- especially her 
  thoughts of the being she has been raised to worship all her life. "Fair and 
  terrible, and... wondrous. He... he _remembered_ me... even after months and 
  months, even one such as me." This last is breathed with unmistakable wonder.

A warm smile, "I hope, one day, that I might meet your Amir-al." a long sigh, 
  as Gaelius glances at the sky, reckoning the time. "But, unfortunately, Tink 
  and I have an engagement that we need to attend to." a respectful bow 
  towards Faanshi, "I hope to meet you once again, and speak of all the 
  wonders in your world, so that I can sing of them, Faanshi. Ave, domina." 
  the last two words that of farewell, along with an uplifted hand. And his 
  other hand squeezes Tink's shoulder, as he turns to leave.

Bowed to, called domina, Faanshi seems yet again strangely discomfited. 
  Individuals of noble lineage, in the Universe According to Faanshi, are 
  _not_ supposed to pay such respects to halfbreed shudra girls. "I..." She 
  blurts this, pauses, and then diverts instead to dropping a deep curtsey of 
  her own, clasping her hands at her breast and bowing down low over them. 
  "Namaste', dominus... ave.... but... wait, one last thing... if I may, 
  please?" And at this, she straightens up to her full height, urgency 
  coloring her soft voice for the first time.

Tink hurriedly curtsies, as she does not want to leave Faanshi, and the 
  wonders that pour from her mouth. Conflicting desires pass across her face, 
  but at last, she picks the one safest most familiar to her. She turns to 
  follow her dominus, but suddenly glances back, hopeful that Faanshi will 
  keep them there yet a while longer.

A quick stop, the gold and silver braid swaying behind him, as Gaelius gazes 
  over his shoulder at the shudra. a hand alighting on Tink's shoulder to stop 
  her, "You may." generously granting permission, with a grin.

"Y-you said... you are a bard, dominus -- please -- do you know a bard named 
  Lyre Talespinner?" These words burst out of Faanshi with more force than 
  anything else she's uttered thus far, and her soft voice turns ragged with 
  what can only be a barely restrained worry.

Tink 's eyes pop open in surprise.

A thoughtful pause, "I have heard of him by reputation, and name." a shake of 
  Gaelius' head, "But, I have never met him, and do not know of his 
  whereabouts." a warm smile, "However, I shall tell him that you were looking 
  for him, should I have the honor to meet him."

"I-I-I need to find him," Faanshi explains, wringing her hands. The exact 
  nature of her need is not something for which she has the words, though it 
  sweeps through her with all the force of a summer storm. "He, um... he has 
  my dog, you see... y-yes, dominus. Thank you..." And again, the veiled 
  maiden proffers forth a deep bow.

"You're welcome." another courteous bow is sketched towards the shudra woman 
  from Gaelius, along with a warm grin that seems to light up everything 
  around him. And he's off, at a quick march.

Tink repeats the name to herself...Lyre Talespinner...Talespinner...and as she 
  doesn't have even the time for another curtsy, hurries off after her 
  dominus. She keeps the name, firmly in mind, for the chance to help a 
  kindred spirit...

Gaelius journeys eastward toward the intersection of Palisade and Vicina.
Gaelius has left.

Tink journeys eastward toward the intersection of Palisade and Vicina.
Tink has left.

[End log.]