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 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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