(no subject)

[sossery]

Right.

Now that I'm done gawking at this ... thing that allows me to communicate to other people. Somehow. I almost wish I could perform magic like this. I'm Merlin. Servant to King Arthur of Camelot. I'm also a sorcerer, something I couldn't tell other people before but that's changed. In any case, I won't bother you with the details. I was hoping someone might actually bother me with the details? Like what is going on? I'd also welcome any explanation as to how this room is lit without any torches. I certainly haven't mastered that kind of magic.

So if anyone would help me out, I'd be very grateful. I might even return the favour somehow. Just don't ask me for love spells and potions. I've had bad experiences with those and trust me, you really don't want to clean up afterwards. You really really don't.

Comments

[coimiceoir]

[The Fae Folk. She straightens, standing stronger and lifting her chin proudly.]

No one else from my home. There is one who can speak to the wind, but he is not of our clans. I haven't heard of anyone else from your time. There are those older than I, but in different ways.

[sossery]

Where is your home?

[coimiceoir]

[Hm. She'd tested someone else with this before and found it useful... She smiled enigmatically, and spread her hands. Would he recognize the old names - the true names of Ireland?]

Ériu. Banba. Fodla.

[sossery]

Eriland?

[coimiceoir]

[Ahh. So he was something like the real thing. Or at least was knowledgeable enough to be aware of the forgotten names. She laughed, nodding her affirmative and then whisking away up the nearest tree trunk to hang upside-down.]

You don't come from there. You're from across the water. But you're not a Northman.

[sossery]

Most definitely not.

[coimiceoir]

Then you probably don't want gold. There isn't much here anyway.

[Swinging round, she sits right-way up again, leaning forward to look down at him.]

Your king hasn't come here, unless he's keeping himself very quiet. What is it that you're looking for?

[sossery]

[he stiffens slightly at the mention of Arthur, his expression becoming somber, but his tone is polite]

I'll wait for Arthur's return. That's all I want.

[coimiceoir]

You can never tell who will arrive. Or when. [There's an ambiguous warning in that off-handedly neutral statement. Don't set your heart on the stars, but don't despair.] Even people who have died have returned alive and well, they say.

[sossery]

[he chuckles wryly]

If anyone can do it, it would be him.