eachdraidh | Video; Available only to the Unseelie

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[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.

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What do you need looked into?

Also, glad to hear that Reynard didn't get the better of you.

I cannot say for certain if that is the case; though, I noted how impressive the power of those shards can be. They were fairly tedious to deal with.

[Just tedious.]

For the most part, though, I need to inquire about the nature of the 'Death Altar' of the Midnight Court.

Reynard's parting words had been about Alice and I spilling blood on it. He seemed... concerned, though I'm not certain if it was his injury or the nature of his statement.

I was a student back home -- I'm good at research. What do you need?

I need information concerning the Midnight Court and Death's Altar upon it.

I'm not certain there may be proper texts or any at all--as this is the first I've heard of anything like it.

I'm sorry that I gave you information that lead to something that got you injured.

[And that much is the truth. Waver's furious that even knowing Berserker's skill, Reynard managed to survive.]

I realize this might be sensitive, but would you mind giving me a little more detail about what your fight with him was like? I have a feeling that if anyone is going to get the better of him, we're going to have to draw on collective experience.

[Waver also suspects that Lancelot will give a clearer narrative.]

I'll see what I can dig up. I can't promise a hard deadline though.

[Bless anonymous text because right now, Saber cannot brain producing audible words. She did not expect this. She was not ready for this. Which left her with only one thing she needed to know for now.]

For those newly arrived, where can you be found should we wish to engage in trade?

Why, you do wear something other than big and black.

[ ANYWAY. ]

What sort of favors were you asking for, Sir Lancelot?

[At that, Lancelot's brows raised. That was an oddity--he hadn't expected Waver to feel that much concern for him; though, he hadn't expected much anyone to feel concern for him, none the less apologize when he took injury as a result.]

I had sought a man for battle. If I were so arrogant to expect myself to leave every battle unscathed, then I would not be deserving of even a fraction of the talent and experience I possess.

[That was to say, Lancelot wouldn't hold himself back from talking trash about Reynard.] That aside, I can tell you that he possessed a modicum of control over the shards. Precise movements and attacks with that magic seemed impossible for him. Instead, he focused on enhancing his own body instead of utilizing them as tools of magic. Fortunately, this enhancement did not seem to aid his senses. In a moment of arrogant, he sought to taunt and toy with Alice, so I cleaved him.

In short, it was the equivalent of using a rocket propelled grenade in lieu of a pistol. His power was unruly and he possessed no grace with it. To combat such a power, you must only distance him from his self control.

Ah, but--it stands to note, I suppose by this example--when he did lose control, his last-ditch effort resulted in a large explosion that destroyed Treun's market.

I may know someone I can ask, [ Ariadne says after a moment, nodding to herself. ] If I can get in touch with him, that is.

[A text response. While ultimately fair, Lancelot didn't much prefer them when he was prepared to hand off dangerous weapons.]

Troichean Beinn. A dwarven fortress, north of the stronghold named 'Redgate'. It is southwest of Cair Scima.

His name. [While Lancelot loved secrecy from time to time, this wasn't something he was willing to cave on.]

You understand-- [Lancelot swung the sword he carried down into an anvil. The blade stabbed right into it as if there were no resistance. One of the other smiths made a face at him, deciding that the knight would have to fix it.]

It's a rather serious trade, my lady.

[Waver lets the apology response slide, and just listens. Being on the road means that he has to dig through his bags to take notes, so he'll have to come back and listen to it again later.]

There were Seelie sent to him to learn how to control their own shards before Reynard turned on them and tried to take their own. I can't say that level of precision is surprising, but the extent is what scares me.

[But it sounds like the more distractions Reynard has, the better. Especially if his senses aren't enhanced by the body modification.]

I wish that I was surprised, and I wish that hadn't screwed over their economy. Fucking Reynard.

[Lancelot ignored Alice's incredibly hurtful and cruel remark.]

First, concerning Reynard's comment at the end: How we spilled blood on Death's Altar. Second, regarding the dryads.

Razul. He isn't a Shardbearer -- he's a member of the Larks, the one who broke me out of Caer Glaem's dungeons.

[ For a price, she thinks they'll do just about anything. ]

I'll have to pay him with coin for the information, most likely; you wouldn't have to make him a weapon.

[ Oh, sure, ignore the fact she's trying to live up to her mini-promise she'd insult you every so often. Alice pauses for a moment, thinking silently to herself. ]

He took a swipe at you and then me, if you mean that.

[ Okay, really, she's done being a smart ass to him. For now. ]

It could have all sorts of implications, Sir Lancelot. But more importantly, I must ask you -- have you seen or felt anything strange?

[Out comes her map and she finds where the fortress was and marks it before she responds.]

Thank you. As of right now, I do not have anything to trade, so I will no longer waste your time.

Good luck in your endeavors.

[There was plenty of land between his current position and her own. It would be best if he did not know she was present. Here, perhaps, he can have a life free of her. Free of the crime he believes he committed.

Truly, she knew he would eventually find her, and even though they were supposedly allies here instead of enemies... she did not deserve to have the man that had been her closest friend back in her life. She had failed him, just like she had failed everyone else.]

Hm. [Lancelot had to think to speak precisely enough.]

Nothing I would consider out of the ordinary, though my standards greatly differ from yours.

Do you ride a horse, at all?

Which part of nature? There are many, after all.

What are you planning?

[Lancelot resumed feeling no guilt at all about ripping Reynard nearly in half. Nope. No qualms about that ever. He nodded as he listened to Waver.]

Still. The city of Treun has survived, despite its losses. It will suffer, but it will not be wiped out.

After all--we will provide it aid. [That wasn't an empty statement. Lancelot was giving Waver a suggestion.]

You'll use my coin and --you'll have to refrain from giving him my name, then. [He pursued further--]

What are 'the Larks', by the way?

[Definitely weird. For the moment, he wouldn't be sad...der...

But, perhaps later...]

I haven't, lately. [Naturally, Lancelot gave Alice plenty of time to clarify.]

Life, I suppose. I imagine decay could also be a part of it, but at this moment, Life would be preferable.

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trash talking reynard is my actual hobby in this game negl

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