eachdraidh | Video; Available only to the Unseelie

[Lancelot stood in front of a great, molten forge, walking along a narrow walk-way inside Troichean Beinn. He was out of his armor, wearing a thick smithing apron and a short-sleeved tunic, startlingly different from the usual attire he would display. As always, Lancelot's absolute lack of enthusiasm shined like a dying star.]

To those of the Unseelie court--I have a trade I would like to make with you. If you believe yourself skilled in researching history and mythology, please respond.

I have a second trade I would like to make to those with an affinity towards nature--in which I must emphasize that such an affinity is a necessity, unless one prefers risking death in this.

[Hoisting his free arm up, Lancelot raised a short-sword with a gleaming red blade, fairy letters written down the length of it. Visibly, the sword seemed to have been vibrating somewhat. Anyone with magical affinity may even hear a soft, hollow sort of noise coming from it as well.]

To those who can assist me in these favors, I can repay you with the fruits of my labors. Wrought iron, enchanted by fairy-magic. I cannot promise the best of weapons at this moment, but if you aid me in this, I will create a finer reward for you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I have the feeling you and I have death as an all too familiar companion.

[ Sadly enough, neither does she, the confidence she has in herself is so minimal. Alice thinks she's cursed for the sole fact she's always going to be cursed and death will always be a familiar presence to her. ]

I, as well, will do what I can. For my friend, Sir Lancelot.

[ Stubbornly insisting as always. ]

I was dead in the first place. [Seriously. If anyone told him he looked like a wraith, he would admit it immediately. Servants were monsters that existed off of pure magic and could potentially get stronger if they ate souls.

Of course he was a terrible hell beast that shouldn't have existed--even ignoring his dumb tragedy.]

Regardless, the condition will be lifted. There should be no punishment for you after you helped me in facing Reynard.

Yes, I know. I can't imagine anyone turning into a spirit alive.

[ HURR DURR. She should really stop being sarcastic with him. With that, Alice moves along. ]

I meant in the sense that, well. You being a knight and myself that our pasts are muddled with it. It's not something we're afraid of obviously. You know what I mean! I don't want to sugar coat it any further.

[ Awkwardly. ] If I give you my thanks again, will you continue pouting once more?

I wasn't the one to pout at that time. [Lancelot reached up to dust his hands off on his apron. At that point, there was now a sword stuck in the anvil at his side.]

But, I hadn't realized you were speaking more metaphorically. I'm not used to you placing value on esoteric speech.

Of course not. [ He can keep saying he wasn't, Alice will still think otherwise. ]

Hmph. Sometimes I forget that you're a spirit and see you more as a normal being. Or is that something you rather not be told? Perhaps I should start calling you a wraith?

I see you understand. 'Wraith' is certainly the better term to use, I suppose.

[Because of their aforementioned soul-eating discussion!]

I was joking. I can't compliment you and now I can't honor your requests that I insult you?

[The usual stare pursued Alice at this point.]

...You were insulting me?

Forget it.

[ HUFF HUFF IT DOESN'T MATTER]

... I feel as if all the problems we share stem from simple misunderstandings.

[He didn't offer a solution, anyway.]

I know.

[ Absolutely not. And it would help if Alice didn't lose her temper with him half the time. ]

...Very well. For now, Alice, I suppose I'll return to my work.

Otherwise, please do one favor for me.

[ She almost cringes. ]

Yes, Sir Lancelot?

Watch for signs of Reynard.

[The most important thing on his mind, really.]

I shall. Please be careful.

[ She can fret if she wants to. ]

I'll leave you to your work.

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