Scarf, the violet serpent arrives, following Raymesin.

There's a lovely spread of snacks and drinks available, which is perhaps the neatest thing in the room. The rest of it? A fabric shop exploded. There's yarn and thread and colorful cloth and shears and all manner of clothes which could use repair. Eirene is working on a quilt herself, and to no surprise, has a deft hand with a needle. Surgery and she's the daughter of a duchess, shouldn't be a surprise. She waits for others to come on by and join her.

Edris enters quietly, though not empty handed--on his escort arm there's a certain petite Highlord, and on his other arm he carries a pretty hefty basket of scraps, threads, yarns. Possibly with the assistance of others who would know better to pick out stuff that's both good looking and useful, rather than someone with a ranger's practical eye. He's got a faint smile on his lips though, murmuring something quiet to Alis as they step over the threshold. The dark-haired prince-consort's smile grows a little at seeing fabric fabric everywhere, which will shortly be even more explosive with their own modest contribution, and starts to lead the way towards where Eirene is quilting.

Raymesin brings himself, ducking into the Badger Boardinghouse in a ripple of his usual black leathers. "Eirene," he says, then adds, "Edris. Alis. 'Ey, folks." He makes straight for the yarn - black, of course, and a ball of red as well - and acquires a pair of knitting needles to go with it. "Need ter get started on a blanket," he says, as though he needs to explain anything.

Alis arrives with Edris in tow; and also way too many guards, who try and mill around and be inconspicuous. But, they're guards. In armor. It doesn't work very well. Nonetheless, she looks used to pretending she's not followed around by so many people. "I hope you have something to do for someone who is pretty much total shit at sewing, but can probably be useful." she quips, once they are close enough to Eirene. "Do you sew?" The question is posed to her spouse. She should probably know the answer, but sewing has just never come up before! "Hey Ray."

Sabella is here! Does she know how to sew? Maybe! She's mostly here for the gossip. She finds a seat near the gathering crowd and smiles brightly at everyone.

Sen'azala is...certainly not someone to typically show up to events like this, and, as if to prove it, she doesn't arrive with any supplies. No fabric, no needles, just a grim expression that's somehow even more than her usual. There's a glance around once she steps inside, a faint hunch of her shoulders, and an attempt to find a spot of wall that's unoccupied, but nearish Alis and Edris. There is, however, a somewhat lingering glance toward Eirene.

Eirene points to the basket of clothing. There are two. "The left one is for stuff which could be mended with a patch, or a quick seam-stitch. The other is for stuff that's too far gone. We'll cut those up and make quilting scraps and squares. You can work on darning socks or just cutting up the scrap squares if that's more your speed." She smiles at Alis and Sabella, motions for Edris to set their stuff down, and then grins at Raymesin. "Ooh, you can never have too many blankets," she says with a very serious *No really* nod. "I should make one for Tanith myself."

She pauses and says, "So, with these sessions, we either complain about stuff that bothers us, no matter how trivial or dumb you think it is. OR, we discuss 'orrible crime." The H is left off. "Stuff to make you shiver and be glad you have a blanket to keep warm."

Eirene pauses and cocks her head at Sen'azala. The 'is everything cool' kind of silently asked question.

"Hm. Possibly not," Edris replies, almost cheerfully, to Alis. He sees her seated first. "Unless knowing how to close a hole in a sock and re-thred jesses and eyelets helps," he replies honestly. "Once upon a time I learned some embroidery alongside my sister, but I was better at threading needles than making beautiful things with them." There's a faint smile at the memory. He lifts a hand to Raymesien after laying out their fabric offering. "Lovely to see you again, Raymesin," he replies warmly to the man. Sen is offered a nod as she arrives, Sabella's smile returned with a courteous bow of the head as well.

Binky, an asshole crow arrives, delivering a message to Raymesin before departing.

Binky, an asshole crow arrives, delivering a message to Raymesin before departing.

Harlen arrives, following Duarte.

Alis gives Sabella a cheerful wave, and inclines her head towards Sen. A gesture is made to the seat to one side of her; on the other side, of course, will be Edris. "Darning holes in socks is definitely knight training." There's a very serious expression to accompany that. "Otherwise, it's very uncomfortable to have a toe sticking out of your sock while it's encased in armor. Very annoying. No way to fix it." She says it as as stuffily as possible, too. "Cutting up squares! Yes, I can do that. Too. I can do that too."

Sen'azala responds to the silent question with a very faint shake of her head, but also a wave of the hand. She's not looking to interrupt, it would seem. Not openly anyway. She does, however, listen, and then look toward the basket of 'too far gone' with a flicker of something more thoughtful. Taking things apart? She actually knows how to do that. Thus, she fetches a few of those, and a pair of scissors, before taking up the seat Alis offered. Things must be dire, she didn't even hesitate at the invitation.

Duarte drifts in like an unwelcome plague, a cheery look upon his face as he slinks across the threshold of the entrance toward the craft making station. He picks up a glass of something or other along the way (didn't really look at it) that is either whiskey or apple juice or very unappetizing looking water. "Yes, hello. I am here to help the refugees and complain."

Raymesin offers nods to the others, then finds himself a seat and starts knitting. He seems to know exactly what he's doing, even with black yarn; casting on is done fast, and with minimal fuss. "I 'eard what yer did there," the Lowers man says drily to Eirene. "Thanks." He doesn't sound particularly grateful about it, though.

"High Lady, High Lord, hello!" Sabella greets Alis and Edris brightly, her cerulean eyes sparkling as her smile widens. "Oh, I am so sorry I missed your wedding party. I heard it was so much fun!" Her attention flicks to Eirene, then, wondering, "Is it alright if I just watch?" Her eyes widen a bit, fingers lifting and flexing. "I'm afraid I don't have the aptitude."

Eirene grins at Duarte. "Excellent. We're here to do both." She motions him in to join them. Knowing Eirene's tastes, it's likely top-shelf whiskey in the glass. "There are a lot of people who just 'woke up' from a long nightmare, and they will need things to help them adjust to the new world they find themselves in. Warm socks, a blanket for a cold night, clean clothes... anything we can do today will be used to help them. Grab some stuff, either mend a sock or take apart the scraps..."

Eirene gives Raymesin an apologetic grin. "It's just how my brothers used to refer to it. No harm intended, my friend." Sabella is given a wave of a hand, "Of course, Princess, your company is welcome. It does me good to have people around who have good intent and a desire to help."

Edris looks over the quilts being offered, frowning in concentration as he selects some fabrics that seem like they might fit in well, either by texture or shade. No, he doesn't have the best artistic eye but he can at least (sort of) color match, right? And then he settles into his seat, listening to the guidelines as they are laid out. Though his tendency is to reserved formality in public gatherings, he seems perahps oddly at ease at this one. Sorting through to find a pair of socks to be mended? It's done without fuss.

Alis looks like she's developed a twitch suddenly. But it doesn't stop her from conversing with Sen'azala and Edris a little too low for anyone to hear her. The energestic way she cuts up fabric suggests they aren't talking about happyfun things though! Not like wedding talk, which still brings a smile to her face. "Think nothing of it, Your Highness. It was fun indeed. But we understood how many people may not be able to make it. I'll see if we have any party favors left that I can send to you though."

Alis adds, belatedly. "Complaining is the best part of these gatherings isn't it?"

Sen'azala frowns at something Eirene says, which is a feat, since she was already frowning. It's more of a brief, notable deepening. She arranges the clothing to be destroyed, as well as the scissors, but rather than take either of them up immediately, she slips a small, battered old notebook from a pocket, flips to an already dog eared page, and shifts it just enough for Alis (and Edris) to see.

"Thank you," Duarte says to Eirene before taking a sip from his glass. He blinks and holds it aloft, in praise of the amber liquid within. "I should come quilt making more often..." he murmurs to himself.

"Princess Sabella! 'tis fine. I learned at a young and tender age that every effort of labor requires an onlooker to keep the tedium of the task erstwhile." He swipes a sock off the table and pokes it with a needle.

"No 'arm taken," says Raymesin to Eirene, with a trace of amusement at the back of his voice. And that's when a crow arrives with a message for him; he takes it with startled surprise, then sends the bird off again. "I, um," he says, looking around, "Need ter go. Eirene, can I keep th'wool an' the needles, or d'you need 'em back?"

Eirene says, "So. My complaint. My kids are driving me crazy. The eldest are getting ready to ship off to Southport for their fostering and military training. They're bounding off the damn walls and trying to get as much of Arx in as they can before they go. So they want me to drag them everywhere." She stops for Raymesin and says, "No, you can keep it. Go ahead.""

Alis checks composure at hard. Alis fails.

Sabella laughs when Duarte reassures her. "Oh! Thank you, Count. I am /very/ good at being encouraging!" She takes a moment to survey what everyone else has begun doing. "You're all so talented and caring, I love it. It's so good to see the love of others become manifest." Her attention lands on Eirene briefly. "Oh, Relara will need to head off, soon. Oh, I'm not prepared!"

1 Kennex corsairs arrives, following Titania.

Alis lets her scissors just fall into her lap there, as a moment of math happens and she sighs heavily enough that it might be heard outside. "Mother/fucker/. Do you know how long it's taken t... er, sorry." She holds a hand up to pardon herself, and clears her throat. "Don't mind me."

Something, *something* about Alis's response inspires a decidedly strange one from Sen. She snort-laughs, not remotely capable of muffling it. It's just the one, but still, she *laughed*. That's a thing now, apparently. She quickly tucks the notebook away, and takes up her claimed scissors.

Duarte points at the delivery crow. "Ah! You see? I was just telling Harlen they don't /all/ go home to roost. A few domesticated ones still remain." He regards Eirene's complaint with mild interest. "What scamps. Bodes well for the future though, no?" He has no clue. It's just something he's seen parents say to each other.

"Tell me more about my bountiful charity, Princess Sabella. That I might sew this sock all the quicker." He's actually forgot to tread the needle, only noticing after making a third invisible stitch. He goes to correct that now.

Shenanigans with scissors? Color the count amused.

Sabella checks charm and propaganda at easy. Sabella is successful.

Sabella checks charm and propaganda at daunting. Botch! Sabella fails completely.

Raymesin blinks at Alis, then flat-out stares at her. Rising to his feet, he offers the Highlord of the Oathlands a smooth bow.

Eirene arches her eyebrows at Alis. "It's a stitch and bitch. No explanation or excuses needed, Highlord," she says with a small smile. She goes back to working on her own quilt and grins at Duarte. "Scamps is putting that mildly. They're my little monsters, and now that the horned fuck is good and dead, I can send them safely out of the city without fearing revenge while I'm not there to protect them."

Alis coughs back a laugh at Ray's stare and bow, and lifts her hand to give him a cheerful sort of wave on his way out. "Thank you, Lady Eirene." she adds, sounding amused now that her moment of pique has passed. "Gonna have extra, extra dessert when we get home." she declares, possibly for Edris' benefit.

Titania moves into the tavern looking around her Ocean blue eyes take the place in, its been a long while since she has been in it. Many many years now, her eyes move from person to person as she stands near the door dressed in leathers with blue silks tied into the armor and small sea shells scattered through her hair.

Raymesin nods to the assembled, and then quietly departs. He's breaking into a run before the door has closed behind him.

Edris continues on with his sock mending, expression growing a bit more serious. Probably with concentration. "Be well, Raymesin, until we next meet," he calls out.

Scarf, the violet serpent leaves, following Raymesin.

Sen'azala begins picking apart the stitching with fingers that are a lot more deft at it than one might expect. Brief laugh aside, she looks as grim as when she entered.

Eirene says, "Anyone have a topic they want to rant about? Other than my kids dragging me to the theater. And the Hall of Heroes. And the managerie... and the observatory... and the docks... It's like they're tourists in the city they've lived in most of their lives."

Sabella's head tilts slightly at Duarte, but she seems indulgent today. "Count, your commitment to the ideals of Gild shine like so many golden coins, and such generosity is sure to not only improve the lives of the refugees but to spread throughout the Compact whole!" Amusement plays at the corners of her mouth, but even if she is teasing? There is a core of authenticity for the praise she heaps upon him. She's a little started by Alis swearing. She wasn't expecting that. There's a look between Alis and Eirene, as if to make sure she heard the correct voice.

Sen'azala makes a soft 'mnn' in the back of her throat. "None that won't spoil the evening. Give me time, I'll work one up." As it is, she's already taken apart the first bit of clothing she claimed.

Titania spots Eirene and she heads in her direction, "Lady Eirene." she says in a soft smooth voice, her eyes looking over everyone else. "It has been a long while since I have been in the Badger." almost ten years to be exact.

"Ah yes. One dead..." Duarte nods with a soft smile curving his mustache. "It was quite harrowing watching the weather that fateful.." he hmms...poor choice of word... correction, "that fatal night. I don't think I've ever been so blazening drunk."

He looks oddly at Sabella. "From one courtier to...you, that was entirely over unctious."

The Count directs his eyes to Sen'azala for a moment. "I believe my week has already been ruined quite a bit by legions of fables. I can't imagine you'd bring anything to the table to further my dismay." He holds up a mended sock, "But now that I've been industrious, I find my morale on the rise." ... "Where do I put this?"

Alis has that expression again; but this time she manages not to blurt out any swear words. Yet, anyway. "I really do like this idea. Of making quilts and clothing for the refugees. It's very tangible and hands on. Sometimes, we grow too used to throwing silver at a problem. Silver solves a lot of issues. But sometimes, it's the thought that goes into an action that makes it most effective." A smile is offered to Titania as she joins them.

Eirene says, "Come on in, Titania. Grab some socks or sew some holes up." She smiles and motions Titania over to their sewing circle. Duarte's comment about legions and fables draws a faint frown but she puts it aside to give a congratulatory nod. "Well done, Count. There's an empty basket for finished things. Be sure you include the mate. Nobody likes it when they find JUST ONE DAMN SOCK."

Eirene gives Alis a nod. "I find it very... rejuvenating to do this. Good for the soul. Almost like a kind of magic." She chuckles. "And yes, Gild is pleased by this happy crap, so it's additionally good for you."

Sen'azala responds to Duarte with a narrow eyed glare. Warning? General unpleasantness? That's for guessing.

Edris's gaze lingers on Alis perhaps overlong at the mention of extra extra dessert. "I have on one occasion, had the opportunity to meet someone who claimed to have come to themselves with no memory of their past," he admits, to the group at large. "It did not seem to be an experience easy to handle even for the strong of will and heart. And so too may we have those who have spent years and years in pursuit of the one recently fallen; victory sometimes becomes hollow when there is not a purpose to take its place. That too is intensely painful. Especially if there were things left undone or said to those that fell before that final battle." His tone is solemn and calm. "But sometimes a token or a hand extended can be that first step towards finding a new path."

Rather than take any offense at Duarte's commentary on her praise, Sabella just starts laughing. So few people call her on her shit, and she was purposely laying it on thick, so she's thoroughly pleased at his response.

Titania moves over to join sitting with Eirene, she looks at the socks with the holes. "I am working to open the Harbor back near home for those who may come from Eurus." she tells Eirene as she picks up some thread and needle to work on a pair of socks with holes.

Alis takes a moment to rest her hand on Edris arm and give a reassuring squeeze when he speaks about the pursuit of the recently fallen. But she has little to add to it; her own pursuit is left as yet unfulfilled, and may never meet justice in her lifetime. To Sen'azala, there's actually a look of relief suddenly given. And, a nod of agreement and acquiescence.

The hostess finishes another few squares and nods to Titania. Eirene says, "That's good. The Guild will proivde you whatever you need, of course." She offers a faint grin. "So, anyone want to hear grizzly stories of true crime? Or shall we keep finding new topics to grouse on?" She's good either way, really. Alis and Edris are given a smile. Sabella's laugh? It draws Eirene's eyebrows up but she's amused by Duarte calling the princess on it.

Something he said? Duarte is innocent and he shrugs. He collects another sock. "Now I recognize you," he tells the glare-y one. "You've scowled at me before, and I never forget a scowl!" That's honestly a lot of scowls to keep track of. He whistles a tune. "How about what does everyone think about dotting Arvum with branches of the Golden Hart?" Safe subject.

Alis gleefully declares, "True Crime! True Crime!" That's her vote. "The best part about true crime stories, is they've usually either been solved and so we can celebrate evildoers being caught." Pause. "Or it's an old case, and we can throw out theories. Much better than focusing on our own problems." Even Highlords love True Crime. (tm)

Somewhat boldly, the hand that rests on his arm is captured to bring it upwards to touch a courtly kiss across Alis' knuckles. Nothing overlong or distasteful, but there's an unmistakable warmth there, before he returns to his sock darning.

Sen'azala nods faintly in response to something Alis says, though her only response to Duarte is narrower eyes. She sets about finishing the clothing she's working on, and sets that in the basket. Then the last one. Pick, pick, snip. She's fast.

There's a wild grin and Eirene indulges the Highlord. "So have you heard about Herman Mudgett and the Murder Mansion? One of the weirdest stories I've heard, and if the place hadn't been torn down I would have assumed it would have become a Shardhaven. Mudgett was a doctor, mind you - this is before the Physicians Guild existed, and saw his first skeleton as a child in another physician's shop. It fascinated him instead of repulsing him. Maybe I should worry about my daughter's fascination with skulls then.."

Her attendants know her well; and one of them thoughtfully brings over a snack plate as story time is starting. She settles it in front of her and nudges both Edris and Sen into sharing with her; else she will eat the whole thing herself. Eirene had her at Murder Mansion. "If it's one of the weirdest stories you've ever heard, this one HAS to be good." she decides, smirking at the daughter's skull fascination. "Does she use them like puppets? If the answer is no, I think you're good."

Unfortunately, Sen, it would seem, doesn't have any appetite. She waves off the offer, then proceeds to finish up the last of the too-gone-to-save clothing. This time, when she deposits it in the appropriate box, she returns the scissors as well. Eirene gets a glance that might be somewhere in the vicinity of near apology, and then she's heading out.

Edris shakes his head at the story. "I have not heard," he says encouragingly, though laughs softly as Alis makes sure the snack plate built for multitudes is settled directly in front of her. "I would think the study of bones to be less worrisome than other things," Edris says. "Though perhaps since I once chased my sister about with giant stone crab claws once I figured out how to make the ligaments animate them, I am not one to pass judgement upon such things." As Sen gets up to go, he bows his head respectfully.

Eirene nods to Sen as a farewell before continuing her story for the others.

Sabella folds her hands in her lap, looking to Eirene as she starts telling a story. "Skeleton?" Her lips press thin. "Well! It could be a positive! Right?"

"Thank the Queen of Endings, No puppets. But that's where her fascination comes from, so it can't be all bad, right?" Eirene sounds like a parent hoping her child will grow out of a goth phase. Spoiler alert: Iris won't. "So Herman marries early, has a son, but he's sleeping around on his wife and being a less than kind husband. They move from place to place as he tries to set up a physician's practice, which is tricky when you're not known locally and people prefer their Mercy. He does this scam where her takes out a loan with a false name, then fakes his death with a stolen body from the city morgue, and then absconds with the money. He'd sell quack remedies, skip out on rent. And occasionally his patients would go missing... This is ALSO why physicians have a bad name when opposed to getting care from Lagoma's Mercies."

Alis does look appropriately horrified by what this guy does; her expression suggests both disgust and exasperation. "Huh. Guy's gotta sleep; too bad his wife wasn't awake while he was doing so. He might not have been around long enough to do... " Whatever he did that makes this a true crime tale aside from fraud.

Still stitching together brightly colored squares of cloth, Eirene continues, "He traveled up and down the coast of the Lyceum, settling in Lenosia. Got papers drawn up under a false name and went by Hunter Holmes instead. With all the money he made scamming people he bought an apothecary. He also bought property across the street in his wife's name and had rooms for let." She motions to the Boarding House they're in. "Then it gets creepy."

Titania is quiet as she listens to Eirene tell her story getting a pair of socks done and then picking up another pair t start work on, she is quiet but the air around her just almost seems electrified.

"Wait, you mean this place?" Alis gestures, helpfully and with a chicken strip in hand, towards the floor. "Like it wasn't creepy already!" Munch munch munch. She's an incredibly appreciative story listener. Between food, she does continue taking apart old clothes or cutting cloth into quilting squares, while leaning against Edris' side.

Eirene laughs, "No, not this place, thank the Gods! It was in Lenosia."

Edris is slowly but steadily adding to the freshly darned pile of socks in front of him. Hopefully they'll go to soldiers or laborers--doubtless his stitches will keep things together tidily, but pretty they are not. And occasionally there's a somewhat creative choice in color for the mended portion. It has its charm, maybe. Like a colorful quilt. And yes, he does know how to pair them up and fold them so they smile as he listens. His brows raise too, as Eirene gestures around. And like a kid at a campfire story yes, he does look around when Eirene indicates! The lean from the Highlord has him straightening so she has adequate strength of surface to lean on, even though it brings a little color to his cheeks still. But when Eirene laughs so does he, glancing around to see if anyone's DISAPPOINTED that they're not in a creepy apothecary's ill gotten boardinghouse.

The story takes a grim turn as Eirene says, "For the boarding house, he hired multiple architects and builders so no one person knew the full extent of it all, but he had rooms with no windows, doors which could only open from the outside, some doors which opened onto stone walls, and secret passages between the floors. According to one rumor he had a huge safe installed which was soundproofed to where someone inside could scream without being heard. He hired a husband and wife to work in his apothecary and live in his boarding house - but he started cheating with the wife. The husband left her and then... the woman and her daughter both disappeared." She pauses and adds, "About this time he took up glass blowing and had a large forge built in his basement. But nobody ever once saw his glass work. Huh. And funny, his apothecary assistants often left to 'seek their fortune elsewhere' after a short stint in his shop."

Duarte tosses his completed sock in the appropriate pile and selects another. This one he soon regards with a squint. Some peculiar stain upon it. He wrinkles his nose and handles it like so much toxic waste pinched gingerly between two fingers and he tosses it in a discard pile.

Alis actually looks disappointed for a moment when it's not this place! She can't help herself. "Boooo." Of /course/ she would be the one! None of this stops her from her snacking though. Not even the absolutely horrifying details that Eirene gets into next. "He burned the bodies in that furnace, didn't he. That fucker." she decides, blunt and to the point.

3 House Riven Soldiers, 1 Greenwood Tribe Blood Warriors, Lianna, 1 Bisland pride guards, Feydin, a white-tailed eagle, Vigilance, a juvenile female Oakhaven Bloodhound, Berthold, Tinsel arrive, following Mia.

Eirene says, "Since the disappearances were catching up to him, he burned the place to the ground and collected some insurance money he had taken out on it. He fled to Gemmecita next. He pulled more scams, married again despite being married to the first woman, swindled his second-wife and her sister out of their fortunes. He teamed up with another con man who -might- have been Malrico, not sure. It gets uglier. The sisters both vanished. He killed another one of his con buddies by getting him drunk, dosing him with chloroform, and then burning him alive." Or mostly dead. Something like that. "Then he conned the man's widow out of her inheritance saying the dead man owed HIM the money. Then the widow made the mistake of letting Holmes escort her and her children to their aunt's home in Southport.""

Sabella's attention is fixed on Eirene, looking properly horrified

"It's true," Duarte inputs. "I met Hunter Holmes in Setarco when he was wooing a merchant for a large supply of glass containers at cost. I was the broom boy and kept shop clean. The merchandise went missing along with the carriage driver and the merchant lost a fortune..."

Mia slips into the Badger Boardinghouse quietly -- or at least as quietly as she can manage with a maid on her heels and a heavily tattooed Prodigal on her heels. The former is caught in conversation with the Marquessa, some debate occurring between the pair in whispers. The tattooed man, by contrast, is glowering. Not at anyone or anything specific, but just at everything, and everyone, and quite possibly his face was just made that way. Who knows?

Alis is looking less horrified, and more really really angry. "He's already dead, right? Because if not, I volunteer for the hunting party." she points out. She's alert enough to catch movement from the corner of her eye, and gives Mia a hand-lift-wave of greeting.

Titania listens she does not seem to be bothered by the story, she continues to fix holes, she is listening. But movement near the door catches her attention and her ocean blue eyes look over that way. She takes note of Mia then she looks back to the socks, this pair was not to bad and so in the basket they go and another pair taken to fix.

Is it strange that Edris has not even remotely encroached on the large 'snack plate' in front of Alis. He might even be glancing at her now and then, enjoying her reactions as much as he enjoys the story being told. He's got about 3 pairs of smiling folded sock pairs in front of him--but he seems to shift to something new now, slowly and with painful attentiveness of someone unused to the task, begins cutting squares of fabric for the quilters. Mia's motion catches his gaze, and he looks over at her with warm welcome. As it happens, there's an empty seat on the other side of Alis, which he nods to in invitation. But then his attention returns to the storyteller!

Eirene says, "The widow's children were slowing his journey to Southport down so he poisoned the youngest with cyanide, then locked the two daughters in a trunk and asphixiated them. But a mercenary found the girls bodies and tracked Holmes down when he made it to Southport." She pauses and says "He was arrested trying to steal a horse at long last. He admitted to over twenty-seven murders but no one is sure exactly the number. Described his murder mansion in detail. The Malvici duke at the time had Holmes hung on the gallows and then let his body rot in a gibbet. So yes, the Sentinel's justice was done." She pauses and holds up her lovely quilt as she says, "That's as horrific a story as I know. Hi Mia." A cheerful end to her grizzly tale."

Mia is not, it should be noted, much good at sewing -- fabric, anyway. No, her experience with a needle and thread has been more often used to close wounds. She is, however, quite competent at sorting and perfectly capable of using a pair of scissors without anyone losing any thumbs. There's a swift bow of greeting for Alis and Edris, who she takes up residence next to once she's found herself a pile of fabrics to work through, settling in to listen... precisely as the tale comes to an end. "Aunt E," she greets, shaking her head. "Spoiled all the fun with my arrival, have I?"

"That is one they should make a play for," Duarte says with a laugh. "I would see it thrice."

One of Sabella's brows lifts at the recommendation of a play being written. "Hm." Then she's smiling happily at Mia's arrival. "Hello!"

"Infected by the Abyss, it sounds like." Alis decides, of the man the story is about. "But how ironic he was caught stealing a horse. And not, you know, murdering and torturing people. What the fuck." The last few words are muttered, thankfully. Not like her last outburst. Duarte /does/ get a bit of side-eye for his wanting a play about the murder dude and his house though. "Have some snacks, Marquessa! They're really good. So long as you can eat and hear horror stories at the same time." The plate that Edris hasn't gone near, but she's been chowing down from, is there in front of her.

Eirene nods slowly to Duarte. "It's crazy to believe. But as much as I know of it is true." She turns her quilt sideways and starts working on another corner. "It feels weird to tell such a grizzly story in such a cheerful setting, but it reminds us we need to always fight the darkness, whether it's abyssal or just in the heart and soul. And to beware of con-men." She pauses to ask, "Anyone else want to complain or tell a scary story?" Her eyes drift to Titania.

Edris shakes his head. "Perhaps the horse should be one of the heroes too," he observes. "I can easily see a maticulous plan going to sh--shame," he corrects himself. Oh so very smoothly of course. "When one takes on the wrong ill tempered horse. But aye, it is true. Sometimes dark crimes are given justice sometimes by timing as well. Everyone touched by that evil will not necessarily see its end with their own eyes."

Alis snorts back a laugh at Edris' verbal backtrack.

"Did you ever hear about the cultists in Inslmith?" Duarte asks Eiren, casually between socks.

Eirene checked dexterity + sewing at difficulty 9, rolling 17 higher.

Eirene drops a colorful quilt made with fanciful squares.

"Your Grace, I might argue that most of us have eaten and *lived* a horror story at the same time for quite some years now." There's a hint of a smile at the corners of Mia's mouth -- a joke, yes, but one that carries too much truth to it for her to find it well and truly funny just yet. "I suspect my stomach can manage it. And if not, there seem to be a few chivalrous Oathlanders here to catch me when I turn green and start to swoon." There's a pointed look at Alis herself at that, and to Edris from around the back of Alis's shoulders.

Titania remains quite after speaking softly to Eirene and then looking to Duarte as he may start a new story. Her eyes look to Mia then back to her socks, she pokes her finger with the needle and she winces saying something in a odd language.

Titania says in Marin'alfar, "Magnatas tits!"

Eirene arches her eyebrows at Titania. "T, you okay?" She glances past the woman to Duarte and shakes her head. "Can't say I've heard that one. I've fought cultists in Caer Morinen though. While high as balls."

"That's a point I cannot argue. Dig in, then. The spicy sauce is pretty good." Alis encourages, dipping a new chicken tender into said sauce before adding an, "Of course. You have two chivalrous Oathalnders at the ready." The tone is serious, the smile is playful. And then suddenly amused. "Fighting cultists while high as balls. That's a new one."

Sabella continues to listen, wincing when she sees Titania prick her finger. But she looks to Duarte. A new story to ruin her dreams? Sure!

"It was back when I was working for the Inquisition," Duarte begins as he stitches a sock. "Inslmith is a village just a few days journey from here. There were the typical reports of folks going missing and so forth, and so we went."

As an aside, "Haze? Do you still smoke?" He might want to get in on that.

Carrying on, "We got there in the height of the rainy season. Mud everywhere and what looked like dog tracks all about. But the village was mostly a ghost town by that time and overcome with the most putrid stench.

"Eerily dark, and quiet, in the drizzle and mist of a spring pour, we heard a clanging noise bouncing off the empty buildings and surrounding hills."

Eirene shakes her head at mention of Haze. "I don't smoke anymore, not since I had my last kid." She falls quiet and listens to the story, neatly piecing together the quilt with a small serene smile.

Quite reassured that she has arms to faint into if suddenly overwhelmed by tales of horror and gore, Mia offers a smile of greeting to some of the others present -- Sabella, who also receives a nod, and Titania, who receives a mildly concerned furrowing of her brows.

"I don't have a helm in case of true greensickness," Edris replies, with both chivalry and practicality. "However, with swooning, aye, you have two sets of very capable hands at the ready." Though the prince-concort's tone is his typical reserved calm, there's a light of teasing for Mia dancing in his eyes. "I have been smoked out by a group of cultists," he reminisces. "But it was not a very pleasant or mind-expanding experience. The bog surrounding us did not help, I do not believe." But then he settles in to listen.

Titania nods her head pulling her finger from her mouth, "Yes, I am alright just a little distracted." she says softly and looks at her fingers it looks ok and she starts back to sewing the socks listening.

Alis makes a face at the idea of letting someone yak up their snack right in a helm. Apparently, /that/ is the imagery she can't tolerate. Go figure. But, politely she listens to Duarte begin his tale, head tilting a bit as if she finds some of this oddly familiar.

"Oh..." Duarte is crestfallen that Eirene won't be passing him a spliff anytime soon...

"Of course, head first into the fray is how the Inquisition likes to do it, so we practically leap at the clanging noise." Sew sew sew. "Which is coming from a small forge and blacksmith - the only lights in the town mind you.

"Now this man, old though he might have been, was thick with corded muscle. Probably one of the largest I've seen, to rival any of our majestic knights." Duarte twists his voice to be gruff sounding and deep, "'Whad er tha kings thugs doin' in these parts?'

"But you know me..." no one here, in fact, knows him, "...I keep a low profile. I don't wear the garb." He grimmaces to even think about the Inquisitor garb. "'I was wondering that myself, these ones just hired me to drive their horse,' I said. Get in a rapport. You know? 'Right nasty fuckers these ones'." Duarte chuckles.

"I've had my own encounters with Abyssal cultists as well, worshipping a great, tainted alligator." A pause. "Or crocodile," Mia adds. "I can never remember the difference, and honestly, that detail is irrelevant. "It's a long and winding tale, potentially better saved for another night and another teller -- one who will relish telling you why my Wolfhall cousins called me 'Mia the Maw' for months after."

Eirene chuckles. "Nobody likes the Inquisition," she says with a grin. She leans over to Titania and inquires something quietly.

Titania remembers a time where the Inquisition was not trusted, she chuckles at something then she looks to Eirene and says something softly to her.

"And, contrary to popular lore, everyone expects them," Duarte notes of his ex-friends in the red cloaks.

"Anyway, the forgekeep is personable enough and he didn't make for any tools to eviscerate anyone off the bat - so those were good signs as I took it. He told us about an odd fella with the improbable name 'Yancy' who took residence just North in a farm house recently. But he couldn't speak to the dog tracks.

"So predictably we headed North and saw a dog."

"Why were they wor... oh, it was tainted. Right." Alis sighs. Worshipping an alligator. She just seems boggled.

Alis is distracted from story time by her adjutant passing her a message; not that she interrupts anything. But, after reading, the things she and Edris had been working on are set aside, and she gives Eirene that sort of 'we're gonna exit' signal with a gesture towards the door. "We'll talk soon. It was lovely to see you, Marquessa." she murmurs to Mia, before the Oathlands pair slip away and out the door.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight, Laurene, a military adjutant, 10 Valardin Knights, Edris leave, following Alis.

Eirene says, "Someday I'll have to share the story of the five-legged dog." She nods to Mia and adds, "My kids love that one." She nods to Alis and gives a smile. "See you soon enough," she promises. "So you found the dog?"

"Yes, well not just any dog. This hound had been surgically modified to have three heads - two sewn onto its haunches," Duarte explains with a squinch of the nose. "And they were oddly functional, gnawing on what appeared to be a femur bone."

"The thing was bloodthirsty and lunged at us in an instant. But harrowing as it was, we promptly put it down to discover that it was living near a pit.

"A mass grave, actually, with the rotting remains of townsfolk. They were seemingly indiscriminately selected: town elders, women and children among them. Now I have seen much of what would be described as the supernatural, but few things have lodged in my mind as vividly as that sight of unabashed nature."

Duarte is also sewing socks and staying productive. Don't worry.

If Sabella had any interest in eating anything, she no longer does. In fact, she looks a little pale.

Titania nose wrinkles slightly listening to Duarte speak his tale, she shakes her head some looking to Eirene then back to her pair of socks.

Eirene nods grimly, the look of someone who's seen such things flashing across her face. "Grizzly," she replies with a scowl. Her five legged dog story is likely -very- different in nature.

Duarte takes a moment to complete a sock and toss it in the done pile.

"After no small amount of wretching, we approached the farmstead and found it abandoned. The barn was decayed and wood rotted. On the door and along the stables, rounding the walls up to the roof even, were carved notes, letters and maunderings of a lunatic. 'Where is the master?' '8 kidneys, 10 livers and 16 hearts - is that enough primum?' and so one. Fanatical and insensible.

"Unlike my peers at the time, I had quite a bit of knowledge about the abyss and blood magic and none of what I saw lined up to any of what I knew. It was a realization perhaps more terrifying than if it had been purposeful.

"It was then that one of us discovered a pit leading to a hand dug tunnel. We were both just in time, and too late, as we heard the blood curdling screeching of a woman echoing along the Earth-walled corridors, along with a frantic voice intending to soothe the victim. 'Now now. Quiet. Serve my master. Did you know the Scholars cut out their tongues if they breach their code? Just think of yourself as a scholar.' the voice explained to a surely already-dead captive."

Eirene gives another grave nod. "Gods above, this reminds me of a murder investigation in the Isles I attended to. The killer thought he was doing blood magic, when really he was just a madman with delusions..." She adds, "This sounds different though, if they were able to make a monstrosity of a dog."

Titania had dealt with cultists before, she almost lost herself to them on the beach of Thrax bay, she starts to frown the tugging of her lips down as she looks to Duarte then back to the sock.

It's a gruesome tale, to be sure, but there's something about the mention of a three-headed dog that makes Mia's expression tighten. It tightens further still at the mention of primum and pits and parts until, for one reason or another, she sets down her scissors. Yes, it's perhaps for the best that Mia not hold anything sharp right now. Ohh, look! Fabric that needs sort. Yes, she can do that.

Even Sabella, with no aptitude for it, suddenly snatches up some fabric that needs tearing apart - actually, tearing apart she did okay with at the camp, and ao ahe leans into that previous exemplary destructive talent to distract her from the story.

Duarte says, "We rushed and eventually came upon a room. It was stock full of cages where he kept his 'sacrifices' like animals. All of them dead, throats slit, much that the woman who had just become his fresh victim." Duarte explains.

"But if the forgekeep was large, Yancy was gargantuan. His chest and arms bulged so as to barely hold taut the sash of his robe - and, luckily, I didn't see anything of him that would truly have scarred me.

"He charged and easily overpowered the Inquisitors I was with, sending one sailing through the air - I kid you not - at least 7 paces.

"Now, I am not a fighter and entirely overmatched by such strength. But I has to draw his attention away and so --- Yes a madman," He breaks off to nod to Eirene. "I suppose there have been plenty so misguided who sought to experiment with a sore dearth of practical know-how."

Duarte holds up his finger, "This ring, my topaz ornament, made by Joscelin. I informed our dear Yancy that he was doing it all wrong and that if he wanted to summon The Master he had to first put on the Ring of the Prodigal.""

Eirene says, "Nice thinking." She nods slowly. "Sometimes you have to lull them into a false sense of security, especially if that guy was as big as Sir Jeffeth."

"Well it worked all too well," Duarte frowns to Eirene. "For soon my hand was swallowed by his hulking mits. I right thought he would tear my finger straight off for it. The joke is the ring wouldn't even have slid a third of the way down his pinky.

"Luckily, Faye got him with a bolt through the back, so as to pierce his heart. And did I blink and thank the Gods when I was face to face with the steel cap of that arrow - that it didn't shoot all the way through."

Duarte collects a new sock and wraps up the story. "The writings I followed, down more corridor to a stone wall where the language changed to something indecipherable. Best guess? Some focal point bordering one of the shardhavens where Azazel hid away some knowledge - for this was the demon he tried to summon." Several beats, "Simply goes to show that mere proximity to the abyss will warp the mind beyond all reason. Yancy was no dark mage, he hadn't a clue. He just lived above the wrong place."

Sabella's gaze flicks to Duarte, actually looking somewhat impressed by the quick thinking. Rip rip rip.

Eirene nods somberly. "Yeah, fuck that guy," she says as he mentions Azazel. "Anyhow, let's change the topic... so there was this dog, which was following us around the battlefield. Don't worry, he doesn't get hurt, and actually became my pet for a few years. But anyhow, there was this dog..."