Carmine @squiddypoet - Tumblr Blog

A Poet's Visit

<Perhaps it only believes in knowing its enemy?> Pelensine replies in the same mode. It is possible, but odd all the same. Agengi doesn’t feel like a necromancer, although it has only ever known mad Xelaqoss…

<Ah… yes> it replies to Ordel after a moment. <Should I… should I be worried about that?>

agengi

R’aamiz shrugged unsure, but that could be true. After all hasn’t Xalliordell said it likes to hunt down mages? <Oh, yeah. You’re right> But it did not mean that his eye would be off of it…for that reason and a few others. <Honestly, I would say be worried as Maanzebossk can be quite unstable. But I do not think he will hurt your child…on purpose.> Ordel thinks of how to put this the least stressful way <He does not fight me and it feels like it would be the same with Blorc but Agengi and Zebo…well…> Agengi doesn’t even look up from its book, <Zebo thought it was a good joke to strip me down while I slept and then pretend we had-…He deserved the strangling> <You nearly killed him….> Ordel shakes his head and then continues privately to Pelensine <They do not get along too well.>

squiddypoet

Pelensine replies, a little bewildered and, yes, worried at everything that they are saying about Maanzebossk. He's unstable, and possessed of a strange sense of humour... and its baby is quite sensitive...

Still, Agengi seems just as potentially dangerous - strangling the other, studying magic... Ilsensine, what a place and people!

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Agengi seems to have taken the little comfort Pelensine can offer and gone back to its reading after a somewhat… odd… exchange with R’aamiz. <Is everything all right?> Pelensine asks the latter privately; it feels it has missed something.

It always has part of its mind on Blorc, though, and it overhears both Maanzebossk calling its child his, and the mingled pride and pleasure with which Blorc takes that, the way it says almost shyly as it settles against the dark one.

<Hm> it says to itself. <It really… hm>

agengi

<Yes everything is fine> Then very very quietly R’aamiz adds to Pelensine, <It felt very nice and I uh…like it but…Agengi is reading about magic> As if hearing the conversation despite it being private Agengi hogs the current book it is reading closer to itself. Ordel though addresses the matter of the two upstairs <Rather possessive>

squiddypoet

<Perhaps it only believes in knowing its enemy?> Pelensine replies in the same mode. It is possible, but odd all the same. Agengi doesn't feel like a necromancer, although it has only ever known mad Xelaqoss...

<Ah... yes> it replies to Ordel after a moment. <Should I... should I be worried about that?>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

<It could not be any other way>Pelensine agrees, feeling the tall one’s grief lifting a little. <You will not forget, but in time the memory will hurt less. Remember, too, the time you had with it; treasure those memories>

—-

<You are too swift, too clever, dark death-dealer -> Carmine says, and imagines for them the image of Zebo dancing in the shadows, fierce and graceful as alhoon after alhoon gropes after him, only to meet with his blades.

agengi

Agengi nods some more in agreement with Pelensine and catches sight of R’aamiz’s peeking face from across the room, <What?> <Nothing> The warrior kicks the ground and looks instead at a bookcase full of curiosities. <…> Agengi turns back to its own books sinking into silence. ______ Zebo relaxes with all the praise, psychopathic tendencies not rising up at this moment. He pulls Carmine over to sit the poet on his lap and hold it close. This was definitely his now, no one else should dare to try and take it away.

squiddypoet

Agengi seems to have taken the little comfort Pelensine can offer and gone back to its reading after a somewhat... odd... exchange with R'aamiz. <Is everything all right?> Pelensine asks the latter privately; it feels it has missed something.

<Hm> it says to itself. <It really... hm>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

<That is very hard> Pelensine agrees. <And who else would have cared for it, if not you? Who else grieves for it? Ordel is concerned, but he does not mourn as you do. No, Agengi> it says, exuding a little of the aura it uses to soothe the tadpoles - just enough to help, barely enough to be noticeable. <You cared. That means you were the right parent for it, no matter what happened>

—-

<Not in all of the Underdark are there the resources to find you if you do not wish to be found> Carmine praises Zebo. <Although it would be the wisest investment foolish Ch’chitl could make. And so close to them you remain - such genius, to hide in their very shadow!>

agengi

Agegi looks at Pelensine and then at Ordel, indeed he had his own way to deal with the situation. Despite how easy he got along with everyone Ordel seemed to be able to move on from grief very quickly. Not that he did not care, it was more of an ingrained understanding that life went on. Agengi nods, soothed by Pelensines aura and words. <Time will heal but I will miss it all the same> _____ Zebo agrees with his mood improving rather drastically with all the praise. <They can neither find nor catch me>

squiddypoet

<It could not be any other way>Pelensine agrees, feeling the tall one's grief lifting a little. <You will not forget, but in time the memory will hurt less. Remember, too, the time you had with it; treasure those memories>

---

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine casts a glance at Ordel, then rises, crossing the room to Agengi as R’aamiz removes himself from its lap. It can simply talk mind to mind, of course, but sometimes it helps to make eye contact. <It will> it says, honest even as it comforts the grieving parent. <The hurt will never leave you, but it will grow easier to bear each day. Were you fortunate enough to have it for long?>

—-

<Then they were idiots> Carmine says, with great decision. <They had a treasure within their walls - Zebo the swift, the dark shadow of death inescapable - and they did not realise it!>

agengi

<No, we had it for a few months.> Agengi looks down at its lap in shame R’aamiz brushes himself off and slinks off away from Agengi, he throws an embarrassed…or something else look behind at it. His cheeks are flushed and he is fidgeting. ____ <They may have when I killed a few and ran> Zebo nods, he wishes he killed one of the alhoons but no such luck. <They lack resources to search for one renegade>

squiddypoet

---

<Not in all of the Underdark are there the resources to find you if you do not wish to be found> Carmine praises Zebo. <Although it would be the wisest investment foolish Ch'chitl could make. And so close to them you remain - such genius, to hide in their very shadow!>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

It feels to Pelensine as though the young one blames itself for the child’s death, at least a little - as if feels it would have survived if Agengi had loved it better to begin with, or had looked after it better, or had not let it stray, it would have lived… it knows those emotions all too well. <The world is cruel> it says gently. <And I am sorry it was taken from you. Has it been long?>

—-

<How brave!> Carmine says, wide-eyed. <Wouldn’t they - didn’t they pursue you? Surely they could not afford such a loss to their city?>

agengi

<It has only been some days.> Agengi finally releases R’aamiz when the warrior shows having trouble breathing in the embrace. <But still feels as if it has just happened mere moments ago> _____________ He says this as a matter of fact, but biterness obviously clings to that memory as well.

squiddypoet

Pelensine casts a glance at Ordel, then rises, crossing the room to Agengi as R'aamiz removes himself from its lap. It can simply talk mind to mind, of course, but sometimes it helps to make eye contact. <It will> it says, honest even as it comforts the grieving parent. <The hurt will never leave you, but it will grow easier to bear each day. Were you fortunate enough to have it for long?>

---

<Then they were idiots> Carmine says, with great decision. <They had a treasure within their walls - Zebo the swift, the dark shadow of death inescapable - and they did not realise it!>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine says softly. <Only one survived, and it was often at risk, or unhappy to the point of death. I understand something of how you feel. Would you like to tell me of the one you lost?>

—-

Although Carmine feels as revolted and afraid at the mention of liches as would any right-minded illithid, it finds it difficult to believe that even such monsters would pose any threat to a warrior of Zebo’s skill and grace. The subject apparently made its dear muse distressed, but at the same time, it cannot help but ask <Were they so blind as to drive out one such as you?>

agengi

<It was…it was not my own. I hated it at first when we found it. But it had such a will to live even after what it itself had went through. It was curious, willing to learn, obedient and became attached to me.> Agengi shrugs smooshing poor R’aamiz closer Here it’s mental speech chokes up. __________ <They did not drive me out, I ran away> Zebo blinks at Carmine, finding the poets thought of him as indestructible and undefeatable as endearing.

squiddypoet

It feels to Pelensine as though the young one blames itself for the child's death, at least a little - as if feels it would have survived if Agengi had loved it better to begin with, or had looked after it better, or had not let it stray, it would have lived... it knows those emotions all too well. <The world is cruel> it says gently. <And I am sorry it was taken from you. Has it been long?>

---

<How brave!> Carmine says, wide-eyed. <Wouldn't they - didn't they pursue you? Surely they could not afford such a loss to their city?>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

It’s not an uncommon attitude among illithids, but Pelensine has never particularly understood it. It had cared all its life for others’ spawn; it had seemed only natural to care so deeply for its own. Nevertheless… it repeats, and glances over to where the tall one still cuddles R’aamiz on its lap.

It touches Agengi’s mind very gently. <Forgive my disturbance, but I would speak to you if you wish it>

——

<Oh> Carmine repeats rather blankly. <Oh, I’m sorry. I… was it like Llacerellyn? Are there some there that I could aid you in destroying?> it offers, rather braver than usual. <Oh, but you do not wish to be reminded of it, I should stop speaking…>

agengi

Agengi turns its head to look at Pelensine. <…I suppose> ____ Zebo shakes his head, untangling his tentacles from Carmines <Too dangerous, liches.> Too much even for someone who has walked right into a city and murdered some important persons right under the Elder Brains metaphorical nose.

squiddypoet

---

Although Carmine feels as revolted and afraid at the mention of liches as would any right-minded illithid, it finds it difficult to believe that even such monsters would pose any threat to a warrior of Zebo's skill and grace. The subject apparently made its dear muse distressed, but at the same time, it cannot help but ask <Were they so blind as to drive out one such as you?>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Money… it cannot think of anything it can do in the same way that Ordel or his friends can… but it will think more on it when it has the chance, and perhaps it will come up with something. At the very least, the city is full and it will certainly not starve. it admits.

In answer to the private query, it says and it shows Ordel something of its long vigil over its spawn, trying to fight off those who came and stole them, the years of little sleep, and its mingled joy and sorrow when Blorc was the only one it had been able to save.

—-

<Do you miss it so badly, fatal and flawless Zebo?> Carmine asks gently, but thinking even as it asks that it hasn’t got things quite right.

agengi

Ordel shakes his head sadly, <It will be able to relate with you better then me. It may not have had as much of an ordeal as yourself but I never particularly cared about my offspring before> ______ Zebo corrects <The mention of it makes my skin crawl>

squiddypoet

It's not an uncommon attitude among illithids, but Pelensine has never particularly understood it. It had cared all its life for others' spawn; it had seemed only natural to care so deeply for its own. Nevertheless... it repeats, and glances over to where the tall one still cuddles R'aamiz on its lap.

It touches Agengi's mind very gently. <Forgive my disturbance, but I would speak to you if you wish it>

----

<Oh> Carmine repeats rather blankly. <Oh, I'm sorry. I... was it like Llacerellyn? Are there some there that I could aid you in destroying?> it offers, rather braver than usual. <Oh, but you do not wish to be reminded of it, I should stop speaking...>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine listens intently as Ordel explains the city for it. It sound strange and a little frightening to the old Nurturer - sheer chaos, too many thralls, the lack of an Elder Brain for wisdom and security… but it seems to be Blorc’s home, and it may be useful here.

Pelensine says at the appropriate time, <unless the Elder Brain told them how those four died after we left> It hisses as Ordel mentions alhoons in the nearby city; it reminds it of Blorc’s mad parent, who had spoken of becoming such an abomination…And it adds, although he may well have overheard, if he is not too distracted by its position with Agengi.

It knows there are questions it should be asking, so much it needs to know if it is going to stay here, but it doesn’t even know what they are. It has never even considered leaving Llacerellyn before…

—-

Carmine picks up on the change of Zebo’s mood, of course. <Dark warrior, death’s grace, what is wrong?>

agengi

If R’aamiz heard anything he made no move to show he did. He was seemingly enjoying his little relaxing spot as Agengi rubbed his back soothingly. <Money matters more then hard work or knowledge here when it comes to securing a good place to live.> Ordel continued <As for work…I sell some of my creations, but it can take a while to find buyers. I simply refuse to sell anything for a pittance. Agengi is a bounty hunter, brings in a lot of gold and things that its targets no longer need…like their brains. It has a reputation actually, some took to calling it Mageslayer. Maanzebossk does some similar mercenary work, but honestly I hardly know what he is up to.> Ordel paused <There is a high demand for slaves, if you wish to make money on that. Spy work, mercenaries, information retrieval…> Now the artificer temporary ran out of advice and tapped his fingers on the map. Privately he inquires, <Do you think you may be able to speak to Agengi? I do not know how well it will get over this…> _____ Zebo opened his eyes and stated at Carmine silently for a few more minutes before replying, <He mentioned my old home>

squiddypoet

Money... it cannot think of anything it can do in the same way that Ordel or his friends can... but it will think more on it when it has the chance, and perhaps it will come up with something. At the very least, the city is full and it will certainly not starve. it admits.

In answer to the private query, it says and it shows Ordel something of its long vigil over its spawn, trying to fight off those who came and stole them, the years of little sleep, and its mingled joy and sorrow when Blorc was the only one it had been able to save.

---

<Do you miss it so badly, fatal and flawless Zebo?> Carmine asks gently, but thinking even as it asks that it hasn't got things quite right.

#agengi

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine does settle a little as Ordel squeezes its shoulder, but its mind is still racing, trying to process everything that he just hit it with. It leans forward to look at the map, one tentacle still tugging at another with discomfort. it says slowly. It could try and find another community, of course, but here it has Blorc and R’aamiz, and it’s possible that these… dissidents… need it too.

—-

Slowly, a feeling of contentment spreads out from Carmine as their entwined tentacles swing gently. It lets the silence linger.

agengi

Ordel nods and begins explaining about the city, its rules, people and different locations of interest. He tells of the skulls which keep order and the factions which vie for control. <It is not a terrible city to end up in. Plenty of food, trade, knowledge. We are located right below the surface city of Waterdeep and are connected by tunnels to the legendary Undermountain. Very few of our kind live here permanently, most only visit for the slave market. We do get some who come to trade from as far as Oryndoll…I do not know if the ones from your city travel to trade but I would keep an eye out in case you have earned yourself some enemies. We are all rather tolerated actually, except for the ones spawned from Ch’chitl. It is one of our nearby cities…they have been raiding merchants traveling to and from here. And they are ruled by alhoons.> Ordel pauses to let that sink in, <There is a trader Shaun Taunador from there. It is of course a spy, but also a merchant and has been able to procure some tools for me. It is usually found on its raft here.> He points out a spot at the great bridge. <There is also one called Sangalor of the Secrets. It is a cleric of Oghma and in extremely old age. But it is dangerous despite the kindly show it puts on, it makes adventurers hunt down the ones of us it does not like. I talk to Sangalor to appear on friendly terms, but do not trust it.> Ordel lets out an uncomfortable cough He indicates R’aamiz. _______ Zebo relaxes in turn, until Ordel’s explanatory chatter completely ruins the mood. He winces slightly when Ch’chitl is mentioned, he knows he has never told anyone much about himself or where he is from but he loathed to hear anything of that horrible city he had the misfortune to be spawned in. He has rather seriously considered strangling anyone from there who may identify him, trader or no trader. But it would draw too much attention to himself.

squiddypoet

Pelensine listens intently as Ordel explains the city for it. It sound strange and a little frightening to the old Nurturer - sheer chaos, too many thralls, the lack of an Elder Brain for wisdom and security... but it seems to be Blorc's home, and it may be useful here.

Pelensine says at the appropriate time, <unless the Elder Brain told them how those four died after we left> It hisses as Ordel mentions alhoons in the nearby city; it reminds it of Blorc's mad parent, who had spoken of becoming such an abomination...And it adds, although he may well have overheard, if he is not too distracted by its position with Agengi.

It knows there are questions it should be asking, so much it needs to know if it is going to stay here, but it doesn't even know what they are. It has never even considered leaving Llacerellyn before...

---

Carmine picks up on the change of Zebo's mood, of course. <Dark warrior, death's grace, what is wrong?>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

They… didn’t? Then perhaps there is a place for it here after all; even if their numbers are small and possibly not a permanent community, at some point they may need a hatching pool (for Blorc and Maanzebossk, perhaps?), and it does not sound as though anyone else has its experience.

Then Ordel tells it that Agengi has lost its child, and Pelensine understands all too well - it had been unable to save all the rest of its spawn, and if it lost Blorc… <Don’t worry> it tells R’aamiz privately. <It is not one like Bravissk, it is only grieving> although it does not betray Ordel’s confidence by saying why. Even more quietly, it tells Agengi

It has barely gotten its emotional feet under it - this conversation has been one shock after another - when Ordel both implies he has been mating with Maanzebossk (nothing came of it? Has its child selected a potential mate of poor fertility?) and that Pelensine should strive to become an Elder Brain at its death -

It splutters mentally. <Me? I am only - I’m not - Elder Brains are - I mean ->

—-

Carmine says softly, looking up at Zebo. <The choosing of words and fitting them together is my art and my love. But…> it pauses, reaches out a tentacle to wind with Zebo’s, if he will let it, <the finest poem ever created is nothing but noise if there is no silence for it to be heard in. And there are times when no words are necessary. Or welcome>

agengi

R’aamiz breathes out a sigh of relief at Pelensine’s assurance that this was nothing of that nature. Indeed he is just being held by Agengi and it is not the most unpleasant thing, much better then being called names or treated badly. Awkwardly the warrior turns to pat the bigger illithids back as he did not wish to offend it. Agengi does not reply to Pelensine but looks over at it briefly and nods to at least indicate it’s heard the condolences. <Only a suggestion. There is plenty of time to think on it> Ordel lightly squeezes the Nurturers shoulder in reassurance and motions for it to calm. He gets up to get a map of Skullport carved on a wood board out from under a chair. He places it on the table in front of them and sits down, looking to Pelensine to see if it has recovered from shock enough to listen more. <There are some important things you should really know if you will continue to live in this city> _________ The assassin at first starts to lean away from the reaching tentacle, purely unused to showing such affection. However he does stop himself and allow the gesture. He liked this poet, it’s praises and the way it looked up to him. It certainly had a way with words that calmed Zebo. Not knowing how to reply Zebo chooses to stay silent, closing his eyes and tugging the interwined tentacles into a slow sideways swing.

squiddypoet

Pelensine does settle a little as Ordel squeezes its shoulder, but its mind is still racing, trying to process everything that he just hit it with. It leans forward to look at the map, one tentacle still tugging at another with discomfort. it says slowly. It could try and find another community, of course, but here it has Blorc and R'aamiz, and it's possible that these... dissidents... need it too.

---

Slowly, a feeling of contentment spreads out from Carmine as their entwined tenacles swing gently. It lets the silence linger.

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Ordel finishes his tale with a swiftness that makes Pelensine think it must have been rude; it is so obvious that he would have said more if the Nurturer had not spoken. <I… I did not think that all my years of service - I have been a Nurturer for almost a century - could be so easily discarded. I am sorry that you have known a similar experience, when you were only seeking to help> It does not know what more to say, especially when Ordel speaks of its desired fate at death and the beliefs of the others.

It takes a long, thoughtful sip of the tea, and its mind turns to its usual professional concerns. <If you have no Elder Brain… how do you regulate the hatching pool?> The Elder Brain consumes tadpoles, it is true, but it also aids greatly in providing a favourable habitat for their growth - the temperature, the water clarity, the chemical balance… The Elder Brain is a stabilising element for so many crucial factors…

—-

Zebo’s close scrutiny makes Carmine a little nervous - but pleasantly so. It isn’t used to being the centre of so much positive attention, but it cannot think of anyone whose attention it would rather have than Zebo’s.

it says, rolling the wounded shoulder to demonstrate. <And I am more grateful to you than I can ever say, no matter how much I compose in your honour. I can hardly believe they’re gone!>

agengi

<The hatching pool…friend, we have not a single tadpole.> He pauses and adds privatley to Pelensine <And it makes Agengi’s loss of its own child all the worse.> Ordel shakes his head sadly as he looks over at Agengi, who had by now pulled R’aamiz onto its lap instead of Copper. The warrior seemed confused as the pale illithid coddled him. <We do not exactly have a large population. Us three, now you three. A few others scattered in the city. Zebo may have snuck into my bed often but nothing came of that> The artificer sighed in a tired way, as if it physically pained him to say the next thing. <It sounds to me that you should strive to eventually become an Elder Brain, not that you can really determine if that happens when you die…but this is my honest opinion. Despite my dislikes.> The chance is low enough for him to even suggest it… _____ <The skull is proof enough they are gone> Zebo says before relapsing into silence. He keeps staring at Carmine and adds, <…I do not speak often. I do not know what to say.>

squiddypoet

They... didn't? Then perhaps there is a place for it here after all; even if their numbers are small and possibly not a permanent community, at some point they may need a hatching pool (for Blorc and Maanzebossk, perhaps?), and it does not sound as though anyone else has its experience.

Then Ordel tells it that Agengi has lost its child, and Pelensine understands all too well - it had been unable to save all the rest of its spawn, and if it lost Blorc... <Don't worry> it tells R'aamiz privately. <It is not one like Bravissk, it is only grieving> although it does not betray Ordel's confidence by saying why. Even more quietly, it tells Agengi

It splutters mentally. <Me? I am only - I'm not - Elder Brains are - I mean ->

---

Carmine says softly, looking up at Zebo. <The choosing of words and fitting them together is my art and my love. But...> it pauses, reaches out a tentacle to wind with Zebo's, if he will let it, <the finest poem ever created is nothing but noise if there is no silence for it to be heard in. And there are times when no words are necessary. Or welcome>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine accepted the tea, curling its tentacles around the warmth as it listened and thought about the other’s story. <So that is why this community has no Elder Brain-> forgetting, for the moment, that Maanzebossk had not defined them as a community at all, <- not that you are young, but you are…> It searches for the right word. Heretics? Rebels? It chooses one more diplomatic. “… different>

It doesn’t quite like that these are the people Blorc has fallen in with - itself, too - but it is hardly in a position to be over-critical. And Ordel’s use of golems as a replacement for thralls does make some sense… thralls could never be replaced completely, illithids did need to eat and that required quite a large breeding pool of stock. But for labour and battle….

And for the Creative, struck down by the Elder Brain…. it must have known something that Ordel didn’t, and Pelensine could not think of immediately, but there would be a reason… <And then? You left?>

——

Carmine perches itself on the chair as ordered, watching Zebo tend to the plants. <He… does feel very strongly about it> it comments. Itself, any worship it had for the Elder Brains died when it refused its desire for death, but it is not as extreme on the subject as others. It still thinks that being admitted into their greater consciousness is the correct ending for an illithid, though.

agengi

Ordel could almost see and feel the way Pelensine thought of them now. He had wished to go on talking about his findings on how the Elder Brain did not preserve the individuals minds it received…but it may be a little too much for now. He did not wish to seem more raving mad then he already made himself look. <Yes, eventually I left when I saw that I would not be accepted back. My service mattered little.> <I doubt we shall have an Elder Brain any time soon, if ever. The others are young and I still have a century of life in me. Time may change how I feel but for now I do not care for them or the possibility of becoming one. When I die Agengi has instructions to burn me> An extremely sad fate from the traditional point of view. Outright and complete destruction, but Ordel knew…hoped that his soul would go and find its way to a suitable afterlife.

Ordel sat back down and relaxed, sipping his own cup of tea <Do not worry about us trying to recruit you to that way of thought. Agengi does not think like I do, and it had no choice in whether it wanted to leave its city or not. And I have little idea of what Maanzebossk thinks.> ______ Meanwhile Zebo shrugs taking a seat in a chair near Carmine, <Very> And now he sits there staring at the poet. Not being a great conversationalist when there is no hunting or killing involved. <Are you healed?> He asks pretty clumsily.

squiddypoet

Ordel finishes his tale with a swiftness that makes Pelensine think it must have been rude; it is so obvious that he would have said more if the Nurturer had not spoken. <I... I did not think that all my years of service - I have been a Nurturer for almost a century - could be so easily discarded. I am sorry that you have known a similar experience, when you were only seeking to help> It does not know what more to say, especially when Ordel speaks of its desired fate at death and the beliefs of the others.

It takes a long, thoughtful sip of the tea, and its mind turns to its usual professional concerns. <If you have no Elder Brain... how do you regulate the hatching pool?> The Elder Brain consumes tadpoles, it is true, but it also aids greatly in providing a favourable habitat for their growth - the temperature, the water clarity, the chemical balance... The Elder Brain is a stabilising element for so many crucial factors...

---

Zebo's close scrutiny makes Carmine a little nervous - but pleasantly so. It isn't used to being the centre of so much positive attention, but it cannot think of anyone whose attention it would rather have than Zebo's.

it says, rolling the wounded shoulder to demonstrate. <And I am more grateful to you than I can ever say, no matter how much I compose in your honour. I can hardly believe they're gone!>

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Pelensine took the seat it was offered, and tugged a little nervously at one of its tentacles. <It was not truly my crime> it said. <You’ve seen my child, Blorc… it is… a little unusual in its outlook and appearance. Many of the young ones treated it cruelly. Eventually, I…> it hesitated. It still did not like to remember the night it found its baby trying to get itself eaten by the Elder Brain. Something of the memory probably flashes across to Ordel. It fiddles with the end of its tentacle again. <The Elder Brain knew, of course. It said nothing about who had killed its aedilator and two of its warriors - I don’t know why - but it ordered me to leave. And now…> it didn’t want to sink into self-pity, but it misses its home and still cannot quite believe that the Elder Brain could so easily dismiss all its faithful service, and fears life outside of its comforting presence.

—-

<Zebo?> Carmine calls, as it comes up the stairs, and then sees the assassin tending its plants. He looks like some graceful vine himself, with a strange angular blossom for a head. <Can I help, oh master of life and death?>

agengi

Xalliordell listened patiently and nodded, he had seen Carmine around and also noted how Zebo had disappeared some days ago just to come back covered in purple blood which was not his. He actually half suspected Zebo to have murdered the yellow illithid on a whim… He patted Pelensines shoulder, projecting comfort. <It is not the end of the world without an Elder brain. In fact you should be glad to be free.> He knew that to someone like Pelensine this would sound like crazy talk already. Ordel had been a devout one like that too, a long time ago. <They do not value us, only the knowledge our minds would bring them and the comfort of being cared for and protected by a busy hive of workers. Their very presence is stifling to our very culture!> A pause and Ordel stood to go pour himself and the guest a cup of warm tea, something to try and calm nerves. <….Believe it or not I had not always been such a radical. Back when I was very young I had gained access into the order of Creatives in my city, and have worked with others there since then. Everything I did was for the betterment of our city. More armor, more weapons, circlets, dorjes, you name it and we made it.> He hobbles back and offers a cup to Pelensine. <I had never meant offense to the Elder brain, but it took an issue with me when I had thought a little outside conventional methods. You see I always thought that thralls were always much too inconvenient. They could take too long to breed properly, took up too much space, had to be fed, cleaned, were ineffective in battle, tired and injured too easily. My solution was to create psionically powered golems, perfect for any job they were designed for and only requiring the input of mental commands from a handler. However even my prototypes were expensive and time consuming to make, I needed funding and apprentices to train in my specific craft so that the golems could become a major part of our city’s advancements. I gathered a large crowd for my demonstration and speech to try and implore for these things…However even as I started to receive some agreements I suddenly felt the worst pain in my life. I had been struck down mentally and made to writhe on the floor like some lesser. The Elder Brain was silencing me and making an example out of my upstart behaviour in front of everyone. After that no one in the city, not my fellow Creatives, past mates or even children would even speak to me. But I was too afraid to leave even then so I stayed, trying to redeem myself by working harder on the things others needed while abandoning my own golem projects.> Ordel paused to see what Pelensine would think of this so far… ——————— <Do not, it is poisonous> Zebo replies to Carmine, in at least a show of care for the others fate. <Sit> He moves away from the plants and begins putting away his gardening gear and protection.

squiddypoet

Pelensine accepted the tea, curling its tentacles around the warmth as it listened and thought about the other's story. <So that is why this community has no Elder Brain-> forgetting, for the moment, that Maanzebossk had not defined them as a community at all, <- not that you are young, but you are...> It searches for the right word. Heretics? Rebels? It chooses one more diplomatic. "... different>

It doesn't quite like that these are the people Blorc has fallen in with - itself, too - but it is hardly in a position to be over-critical. And Ordel's use of golems as a replacement for thralls does make some sense... thralls could never be replaced completely, illithids did need to eat and that required quite a large breeding pool of stock. But for labour and battle....

And for the Creative, struck down by the Elder Brain.... it must have known something that Ordel didn't, and Pelensine could not think of immediately, but there would be a reason... <And then? You left?>

----

Carmine perches itself on the chair as ordered, watching Zebo tend to the plants. <He... does feel very strongly about it> it comments. Itself, any worship it had for the Elder Brains died when it refused its desire for death, but it is not as extreme on the subject as others. It still thinks that being admitted into their greater consciousness is the correct ending for an illithid, though.

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

While Ordel and its parent appear to be talking, Carmine seizes the opportunity to slip upstairs, looking for Zebo.

Pelensine is wiser than to push further; perhaps it will hear more of this at some point, but if It does not, it isn’t its business. <Ah… my apologies for descending on you, but Maanzebossk seemed to believe you might be able to - and might wish - to help me. I suppose I might be able to help you, too… You see, I was a Nurturer in Lllacerellyn, until I was exiled recently…> it trails off, unsure how to continue or what to say.

agengi

<Ah exile> Ordel walks over to take a seat on the couch and lays his cane across his lap. He offers a seat to Pelensine. They will likely be chatting for a while. <What was your crime, if you don’t mind me asking?> A Nurturer, as Ordel remembered those had both taken care of thralls and the young. Yes perhaps it may be able to help Agengi in its problem better then Ordel has been able to. But first they will speak of the easier to deal with concerns. Agengi had turned to look at the slowly approaching warrior. It turns its head unsure of what to make of him, he felt like an illithid but did not look like one. And it suspected it was not because of a polymorph. <What are you?> R’aamiz stops in his tracks, <An illithid such as yourself. My ceremorphosis was partial> <Never heard of it happening like that> Agengi shrugs turning to its books <But then again I am also a little different> —— Meanwhile when Carmine ascends to the second floor of the tower he can feel the assassin nearby. This floor contains a room with an odd mix of many weapons, pillows with geometric designs and a cozy bed. Zebo can be seen in a slightly partitioned part of the room surrounded by an assortment of plants. He is wearing heavy oiled gloves and a breathing mask as he trimmed some odd blackish vine plant dotted with cheery pink flowers.

squiddypoet

Pelensine took the seat it was offered, and tugged a little nervously at one of its tentacles. <It was not truly my crime> it said. <You've seen my child, Blorc... it is... a little unusual in its outlook and appearance. Many of the young ones treated it cruelly. Eventually, I...> it hesitated. It still did not like to remember the night it found its baby trying to get itself eaten by the Elder Brain. Something of the memory probably flashes across to Ordel. It fiddles with the end of its tentacle again. <The Elder Brain knew, of course. It said nothing about who had killed its aedilator and two of its warriors - I don't know why - but it ordered me to leave. And now...> it didn't want to sink into self-pity, but it misses its home and still cannot quite believe that the Elder Brain could so easily dismiss all its faithful service, and fears life outside of its comforting presence.

---

#agengi #a poet's visit

agengi

A Poet's Visit

squiddypoet

Carmine and Pelensine both look around - Pelensine curiously, and Carmine nervously. When the latter sees Agengi, it shrinks back a little. It hasn’t forgotten yelling at it in the streets about Octalita and its response…

Pelensine, on the other hand, scans through the room. The distress of the tall one in the corner catches its attention as much as the many curious furnishings. It speaks privately to Xalliordell <That one seems rather… upset. Is there anything I can do?> It seems unlikely that it would respond to its Nurturer’s skills at soothing and calming if it has not found its mood lifted by the green one’s aura of happiness, but Pelensine feels compelled to offer all the same. It has never liked to see young ones distressed.

<Is Zebo around?> Carmine asks. If he didn’t let his friends know they were coming, perhaps he isn’t here either…

agengi

Ordel introduces himself and the tall illithid. Privately he replies to Pelensine The artificer hesitated telling this one just what the loss is. They have just met after all and he did not know what sort of people Zebo had invited. <Maanzebossk is upstairs, second floor. Tending to his plants.> Ordel tells Carmine, and as non sinister as tending to plants sounded nothing was safe when the assassin was involved. R’aamiz is also looking around curiously, his hands itching at the possibility of maybe inspecting some of those books or items closer. As far as he can see so far these renegades seemed to be less picky of whom they keep company with and maybe they would not mind him. Emboldened by that thought he wordlessly edges closer to take a look at the small dragon on Agengi’s lap.

squiddypoet

While Ordel and its parent appear to be talking, Carmine seizes the opportunity to slip upstairs, looking for Zebo.

Pelensine is wiser than to push further; perhaps it will hear more of this at some point, but if It does not, it isn't its business. <Ah... my apologies for descending on you, but Maanzebossk seemed to believe you might be able to - and might wish - to help me. I suppose I might be able to help you, too... You see, I was a Nurturer in Lllacerellyn, until I was exiled recently...> it trails off, unsure how to continue or what to say.

#agengi #a poet's visit #((sorry lame post))

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