Skill - Escort 2/5

'What a party. You seem to be a woman with good tastes, what do you suggest I try first?'

Bold, he was! And the seafaring stranger looked her over like his hunger had already settled on a dish. Lyra batted lashes, boldly assessing him in kind.

Emerald eyes glinted back up to his own, cut sharp. A good eye you 'ave, salt-dog. And a good most other things.

Captain o' tis 'ere Howff, I am. None could give ye better advice. The corner of her lip tugged up in kind. No serving girl or lady of the evening. If he wanted her, he'd have to prove he was worth her time.

She took the berry from beneath his claw, pinched between two of her own, and held it in front of her mouth mischievously, Tell me first, are ye a man 'oo likes a quick fix? Or do ye prefer t'savour yer catch? Lips parted in a slow spread-grin, tongue coiling over the stolen treat to make a show of pulling it back behind her teeth and sucking thoroughly.

The Wisp was walking down the stairs.

Lyra felt her attention snagged away from the handsome stranger to their resident fae, wondering if she'd misunderstood the previous assurance and taken too much for granted. Last thing she needed was a fecking gancanagh courting her...

But apparently the draw was elsewhere.

Under the... floorboards. Lyra's brow furrowed, glancing at her courter briefly before turning full attention to whatever The Wisp was doing. I'll be back t'woo ye in a minute, Dóighiúil (Good-Looking). Sit tight. Lyra waved at him, dropping from the table to weave between jovial forms and get a peek at what the commotion was.

Is there a reason ye be tearing up me dancin' floor in the middle of a damn party, then? She growled. Then caught the flash of blue. Ears pinned flat. What in the bloody 'ell—

Ampoule nodded astutely, listening as his voice managed an explanation for the gathering she, in her opinion, had just crashed. She had also fairly assumed that she would not be turned away, as a nymph was generally a welcome boon to any group of people. Even if they did not know the truth of her being, she often came off as gregarious and open, which were qualities the regular folk held in high regard.

Then, her eyes drifted about the room. Merriment abounded, and music drifted through the rafters. She hadn’t known beasts to be capable of such behavior! It was a joyful occasion, and despite the influence of fermented alcohols, the guy clearly wasn’t all bad. She even managed to appreciate his funny little accent and the way he visibly mulled over their every word.

She grinned, placed another berry upon her tongue, and popped it into her mouth. He mentioned druids, which procured a slightly sideways smile from Ampoule, who had begun to sway. Druids – mystics from a distant, faraway land. How exotic! She must collect one.

Congratulations on your establishment, she celebrated him genuinely, placing a paw to her heart. Most creatures in the world amounted to little more than nothing at the end of their mortal life, and it was admirable that this red-furred beast had an innate desire to create order out of chaos. Interesting events out of dissonant, separate souls.

In a life that never ended, this was the entire meaning of existence.

Something was stirring in the midst of the chaos, noticeable despite the scene’s every effort to distract her. The crowd flowed, leaving Poseidon unattended. Ampoule felt the edges of her intuition awaken. Come, the sea nymph bade Mal, as if he were not a king in his own right, and drifted to her Patron.

They now stood abreast the navy brute (Mal was assumed to be in tow, but perhaps he was not; her attention was wholeheartedly distracted), just beside the happening, and she craned her head to see what the floor could conceal. Then the nymph gasped, a noise taken straight from her heart.

Oh, Olympus! With eyes ablaze, she leapt in a leonine manner to take the place at the side of the women closest, gaping and commenting with gusto, Tha e a’ deàrrsadh! (It glows!) she cried. Iarsma naofa! (A holy relic!) she gushed, the languages awakening on her eager, excited tongue.

Citalá would have been content to hide away in the room Lyra had set up for Maggie. Oh, she’d find just as much joy hearing the ruckus from the trees and searching for mushrooms out in the dark of night.

But Citalá was not impolite. She was a good guest; even if it meant her ears being offended by awfully loud chorus from a boisterous man.

In the shadows she stayed, at the back of the rooms. As she meant to descend stairs, the spotted lady of the house barks out the grey woman clawing at the floorboards. Citalá presses herself against the wall with a scowl, but narrows her eyes at the glimpse of a glow between the teeth of Wisp.

Citalá wishes to have what everyone else is having. Perhaps it would dampen the noise.

Ethel is more than happy to let the music and chatter of the party take her away on the curtails of the fermented berries that had dissolved along her tongue. She is more than happy to yield to the movement in her hips as they sway, and the bob of her head as she finds herself enjoying the commotion around her.

And for the most part, Ethel remained within her own world, ignoring the way the inhabitants of this party are eccentric and odd…and how her tongue wishes to judge each one of them for the way they dance, speak, or exist—but she does not.

Instead, she moves through the crowd with a shake of her hips and a toothy, widening grin.

It is only the scrambling of paws against wood, and the flashing of something blue within her peripherals that ultimately piques the grandmother’s attention and re-routes her ambling paws from the only other German man she had heard of.

Instead, a crowd seems to be gathering around this curious item.

And Ethel is far too nosy to ignore it.

Was ist das? (What is it?) She asked, as suddenly she was beside the cat-colored woman and another of grey, who grasped the pulsing blue item between their teeth. A pale woman exclaims something in another language she cannot understand, beside her, and Ethel pointedly ignores her.

Cat lady, Ethel greets the calico-furred woman, What. Is. That?

Her curiosity simply cannot take it.

What is that blue, glowing thing?

The bard singing on the bar top set his sights upon their companion, and Juniper couldn't help but lean over to their friend with a teasing look.

You've just arrived and already have an admirer, hm? Their voice a low, playful whisper to the star-touched woman at their side. Oakwood eyes dance with mischief, a curved grin settled upon their lips. That was until the empty air on Juniper's other side stole their attention.

Southeast!

Uffern! (Hell!)

In a sudden flurry of movement, Juniper peeled away from her place by the stones (fireplace). First taking a moment to bob upright, bouncing on her hind paws to try and glimpse Southeast over the bustling bodies in the Howff. Cursed with her slight stature, Juniper then lowered to the floor to try and identify the boy's paws. Albeit she did not discern much aside from the floor, spilled fruit, and a gentleman who perhaps needed to step off the floor and into someplace private.

Rising back to their paws, Juniper weaved through the crowd the opposite side of the room. Many gathered around the bar and through the rungs of the balcony's railway, Juniper could spy little faces peering down at the party below. If the druid to failed to find Southeast on the first floor, perhaps they could find him from the balcony.

And, if a moment of mischief could be spared, she might slip the bard Stardust's name. Finding Southeast would, of course, come first.

The air was heavy with an identified sweetness and the smell of ferment fruit. Not to mention the collection of wolf scent of all of the various individuals gathered. Juniper tried not to rely on her nose so much in this space. Ears cupped forward, she stopped a moment to prop herself upright with the bar. Paws pushed against the counter's edge, Juniper glanced to and fro before catching a glimpse of the dusty brown pelt of the boy.

Skirting past the bar goers, Juniper clasped a paw around the boy's shoulder.

Got ya! Playful, Juniper looked the boy over, taking heed of his expression and if any juices stained his lips. While he held their attention, their attuned ears caught wind of something brewing amidst the party,

What. Is. that?

Was something the matter?

SOUTHEAST TO THE PATH OF ETERNITY

(Surprised)

What to do?

---

ITEM (Nothing To Use!)

---

ACT (Searching!)

---

RUN (Nowhere to Go!)

Health
15/15
No Skill in Progress
0/30

Howff Party

---

In his dazed state, he had yet to realize(nor notice) that this was perhaps not the best place for a little wolf to find himself. Scrambling up and leaning fawnish, gangly legs up on the counter of the bar, he stretched out to look around and across.

More of those foul-smelling, rotten berries. Some ladies and gentlewolves eating and smacking their fill. Some individuals muttering odd whats-its to each other and then some more belting of that poorly pitched pooch from behind him. The attention of the room seemed to be split between many points down here, and for a moment, he considered that going up might find him more successful in his search.

Uh–hola, (hello,) hello, bonjour, (hello,) He prattled off to whomever he could reach. There was first a black-and-white man which he decided he did not like his angle of, and then he whipped around to bark at a long-furred individual who looked rather similar. Only, she seemed much more decent, and preoccupied with the red man he figured must've owned the place. An old pasty wrinkle-ridden dame sauntered by some distance away and Southeast waved his paw, only to pull himself away from the counter as that man sung AGAIN. He knew asking directly for help was better than hoping somewolf would come to answer him, but. Come on.

Grimacing and deciding he was better off elsewhere, tan fur shuffled about along the near-swaying rickety floor in search of—

Of…

There was.. A bright thing, that caught his eye. First he’d thought it was some kind of small fire they had lifted to burn and bring more light to the establishment, but… It wasn’t fire colored. A deep worry churned like storming ocean waves within him as he stared; a longhaired, black and white(but a different one now) wolf peeled back the floor.

Gotcha! Talons were upon him and his eyes widened, but by lifting his chin to look above, he saw who he had been looking for. Somewhat.

They began to fuss, worrying and wondering what he had been up to in their short time apart. The little Druid, however, could not peel his eyes away from what looked like a tiny piece of river that had come out of the floor. Juniper, Rising in protest, then nodding toward caution, his dark brown nose drooped back toward Old Droopy-fur and Gold Tooth. For once, he and his ears stood at attention, even if he was sat back on the floor with his forepaws on his Guardian’s own.

Did the Howff have magical floors? Could they send Stardust to look? His grip tightened on their banded gloves, staring ahead distrustfully.

ALL CODING AND CHARACTER ART ON THIS PROFILE ARE DONE BY MYSELF UNLESS STATED OTHERWISE.

Mal thanked Ampoule, oblivious to the shift in the crowd around them until she verbally nudged him to follow.

He blinked stupidly for a moment as his brain sloshed through a berry-fueled haze. Huh? It clicked, then and he moved to follow.

The general commotion washed over him next. Lyra bullying past, snarling and snapping at Wisp, who was…trying to pry up the floorboards? Other people too, looking on, attention pulled by the dramatic focus on the floor.

On the —

Mal squinted at the flash of blue as he trotted over and squeezed himself between Ampoule and another. Whoa. What th' hell is that?

Whatever it was, Wisp seemed almost determinedly frantic to remove it.

Well. Good enough for Mal.

Not overly worried about stepping on paws, Mal slipped closer and grasped the edge of the board in his teeth, doing his best to lift it higher so Wisp could ferret out the treasure.

Geh ih, 'Isk! (Get it, Wisp!) He mumbled around a mouthful of wood.

skill: entertainer

Stunned she was, that Stardust woman. Caught in place and whipped around to meet his gaze as he stood atop the bar and entertained their many guests. A look that might tell him it wasn't all too often a man had taken the time to woo her in any said fashion. Lovely words for a lovely lass. His smile geninune than towards her, until he is forced to draw the attention of the crowd before it flees. He would have his time to mingle in good time, but for now, he sang! It did all more well with the knowing the the dark starcrossed lass sat poised and pretty as she listened on to his melodies. A success! To turn her jaded frown around.

Another song finished and a deep bow to the crowd, Jaskier lowers his head for a drink. A fitting time for a break, he felt. Indeed it was, as distraction moved away from he and drink and on to.... now what was that exactly in their rotted old floor boards??

Oh-! What a cute, shiny little magic... thing? A piece of stone, with some kind of rune inscribed into it that just so happened to glow and pulse with blue energy. But what on earth was it for and what to do with it, exactly? The bard took a sit and studied from the bar top where he might still get a better look as a growing crowd hovered around it. Personally, he didnt quite think it a smart idea to go about touching it, lest it ignite some sort of curse or hex. Rather the witch Mir handle that bit. Jaskier didnt quite want to turn into some toad or fish- he rather liked his current face, thank you very much.