Revision as of 20:02, 24 April 2017

Participants

• Fenris
• Flora
• Zalthar

Date

24/4/480

Log

Flora is already chatting with various beings under her personal tent, while the guards and servants mill about, providing both the guests and the members of the delegation with drinks and things to eat.

Dressed in a nicer cloak than usual, trimmed in white edging and a polished clasp, Zalthar nods at the guard, after they ensure she's unarmed. She steps into the yard and heads towards Flora "Quite a gathering today." she says quietly, looking among the guests, eyes appraising each and every one.

Fenris is seated off to one side of the Highlady's pavilion, playing a bit of background music on a small piano-forte that has been hauled out here for just this purpose. It is a rather nice instrument and had no doubt been gathering dust somewhere until today. The big tiger is formally dressed, much like the milling servants carrying trays of snacks and drinks. From time to time some of the foreigners come to him to request songs, and some even simply to chat while he plays.

Directly surrounding Flora are five beings of varying species. A male fennec, apostate. two jackals, male and female, possibly related, and both graceful clan. A young, silver-maned lion, heavy folk, albeit not the typical size. And finally, an older, and rather animated lizard, also of the smart folk.

There seems to be some animosity between the two jackals, and the lion seems to be displeased with the rest of the delegation, but all in all, the spirits are high, and everyone is listening to the tall tale the lizard is spinning. Something about a new piece of technology recently uncovered by members of his parish.

Zalthar moves to listen to the lizard, ears perked. Her hands fold in her pockets, and her twin tails flick lazily about behind her, forming large curls. All in all, she doesn't look imposing, even so much as being unnoticable, just listening for the time being.

Fenris finishes his latest piece with a flourish and pushes away from the piano to stand up. Time for just a little bit of a break. He nods and smiles at the little smattering of applause. "I'll be back in a bit, ladies and gentlemen," he says, "My poor fingers need a break, and I am afraid that the smell of food is making me drool all over the keyboard!" The tiger excuses himself and saunters across the pavillion, picking up a treat here and a treat there, making sure to snag something he recognizes from LongTech's recent cooking contest. He stops near the Shralestan party, listening in with interest, and wondering if any of these dignitaries are likely to recognize him from his escapades in their grand church. Unlikely, since he had looked quite different when last he was there.

"Ah! Miss Zalthar. Come, join, yes. Mister Priest Dionysius was just telling this story about a new machine recently discovered. It styles hair, Mister Dionysius was saying?"

"Hair, fur, scales. Brushes and polishes to a shine. Curious little thing. Not sure why the creators'd invent it, but between all the objects full of creator wrath, a thing like this is a welcome change of pace," the older salamander offers with a full-bodied laugh.

"Flora should probably introduce the guests, yes. Mister Gerald Silverfur, here on behalf of both his own Church, and that of Misther Grayfeather, whom is unfortunately too busy to be present," she offers, as she gestures to the lion. Mister Stephen Sandfur. Leader of a small, but proud, and particularly influential church," Flora offers, as the fennec shoots those listening a broad, toothy grin.

"Miss Selin and Mister Seth Nighthide. Both leading their own church. Both with their own views on the first text, yes. And finally, Mister Dionysius Goldenscale. Leader of the second largest church of Shralesta."

"Some of the other churches have also sent their collective representatives, however, Flora believes they are currently enjoying the banquet, yes."

Zalthar nods her head at each representive as they are introduced, but her expression remains that of muted curiosity. "A pleasure." Her head bows slightly in respect "So... a creator device to change and alter one's hair and fur, or such like?" she asks curiously "This sounds much like the crafter I have heard rumors about, but less painful."

Zalthar looks up at each, guaging them, her first tail curling aound her feet nervously. "Have any limitations been uncovered about what it can style?"

Fenris is happy just to listen in on the conversation, especially since he is here as the help/entertainment, rather than as an actual guest. He does sidle a little closer to listen in on the conversation about this interesting device. He had seen machines that may have had a similar purpose, but never one that was intact.

"Well, you have to understand, miss. Creator Tech can be incredibly dangerous when handled improperly. We are loathe to experiment with it unless we have to," Selin, the female jackal offers, before being cut off. "Come now, Selin. We both know that's not how I work. If the device itself doesn't contain any Wrath, nor has any clear dangers, I'm always happy if people volunteer. Experimentation is the spice of life," the salamander offers, much to the dismay of... Everyone, really, although Stephen can't help but crack a small smile, while Gerald looks absolutely horrified.

"Far as we can tell, it's essentially a one-stop barber. It can't lengthen hair or fur, only shorten it. Working out all the different styles is going to take a while, though. It refuses to lengthen hair, though."

"Don't look at me like that. These are gifts from the Creators. They should be used, instead of locked away. If they're reasonably safe, of course."

Being a very fluffy tiger, and having a bit of a history of recklessness with Creator artifacts, Fenris can't help but be intrigued by the idea of this little wonder.

"Forgive me if I'm interrupting," Fenris says, finally stepping up to the group, "I'm just the musician, but I couldn't help overhearing. You say this machine of yours will trim and groom a being all on its own? I can only imagine that being a very useful thing to have."

Zalthar nods and thinks, looking between Selin and the salamander. She completely ignores Gerald for the time being, interested in other topics than him. "You say it to not have Wrath, but are there any other risks associated with such a device?" she asks, the question mostly directed ta the salamander, but towards the group in general. SHe pauses to let Fenris speak, and after his question is answered, asks another of her own "Are the effects permanent, or do they fade with time, or some other factor such as water, or temperature?"

"Lass, it's a device that cuts hair. If yours grows back, it'll grow back," Seth offers, before shaking his head. Some people. Especially shadows.

"Like Seth said, it only cuts your hair, and styles it with some wax-like substance. And if you ignore the fact that it brings sharp knives and special scorchers to your head, it's mostly harmless. As for your question," he offers as he turns to Fenris. "I wager it'd certainly help you in our warm climate, as it would the Lady. Still, it does nothing a barber can't do."

Zalthar nods and gives Seth 'that' look. The look of the unamused. She steps back and heads towards the snack table, looking even less amused, before dissappearing into the crowds to track down one of the servers.

Fenris grins and laughs just a little. "No, of course not," he says, "But this magic barber of yours sounds much more exciting! Plus there is none of the embarrassment of getting a full body grooming, right?" The big tiger pops a bonbon in his mouth and chews happily. "You haven't brought this thing along for the fair, have you? I wouldn't mind volunteering to test it out!"

"Course not, boy. We keep our technology safely in the church. Even if it doesn't leak any Wrath, there's still a Spirit in there that needs to be appeased, and I'm not about to anger it by moving its machine-home around," the salamander offers. "It's staying in the sanctum for now."

"Hmph. 'least he takes care of his Machines in that way," the Lion mumbles to himself, getting a small nod from Seth and the others.

Zalthar returns, with a small plate of the bitterballen, and a few slices of apple. "Perhaps, if I am in the area in the near future, I may volunteer." she considers. She looks at Fenris and seems to be about to ask a question, but apparently decides against it, turning abck to the ambassadors "If I might ask, where did you uncover the device? Were there others along with it?" she asks.

"No offense meant," Fenris says amiably, "Just saying that it sounds like a good idea." The tiger had forgotten how touchy the Shralestan clergy could be about the Creator technology in their care. And how superstitious they were about machine spirits. They obviously hadn't met some of the friendlier ones that he had. "I hope that you are enjoying your time in Firmament?" he asks, changing the subject a little, "I don't suppose you have any requests for music?"

"While I appreciate your enthousiasm, miss, ultimately, there's a lot of red tape to go though, -especially- for one not of my own parish. Such are the customs in Shralesta. And for much the same reason, I'd prefer not disclosing their discovery-site. Not in the least because we are surrounded by what are ultimately my competitors, hmm?" he offers, smiling broadly at the other High Priests.

"How about 'The Sands of Sweet Shralesta'?" offers Selin after a moment of pause.

"Well enough, really," Gerald offers. "Even if your chuchs is far too liberal with the First Text, and the humidity in the air is far too high. Don't understand how you can stand this," he offers, before shaking his head lightly. The other priests seem to have similar sentiments about the humidity, although they don't exactly echo the sentiment about the church.

Zalthar raises a brow at Gerald in question at the mention fo the church, but says nothing, tail flicking in confusion. But as the topic shifts, she comments "Short fur helps. One does tend to get used to the humidity after a time. But has your stay, otherwise, been agreeable?" she asks.

"The humidity takes some getting used to," Fenris admits, "There are days here that I swear there is more water than air floating around." The big tiger pops a last vol-au-vent into his mouth and straightens his formal tie before giving a low bow to the gathered Shralestan clergy. He then turns and goes back to sitting at the piano.

Fenris lays his hands on the keys and starts to play. The melody has the tune and meter of a march or a congregational hymn, straightforward and regular, but underneath that heavy beat, Fenris adds a sort of music box undertone that makes the song much lighter and airier. It is really quite nice. One could easily sing along, if one knew the words.

It seems the priests are more than content simply listening to the piano for the time being, with Seth and Selin shifting lightly from side to side, breathing calmly.

"I'm sure. But I'm not shaving my mane for a trip that's going to last only a week or two before we head back. The opening was this weekend, correct?" the Lion rumbles, looking to Flora for confirmation. "Assuming the Thera'Dorian and Cliffside delegations arrive on schedule, the opening is on monday-evening with a larger event at the hall. Fireworks, foods, and a few demonstrations of the... Flashier magics, yes. Mister Lord Blackback insisted. And Flora's gotten word of various beings making their way into some of the new inns, too. Things are moving along, yes."

Fenris continues to play at the piano, listening in on the conversation, though he is a bit far to join in on it, besides, the gathered priests had not seemed all that interested in talking to the help. It really was too bad that the old buzzard had not joined them, it might have been fun to have someone who could introduce him with his actual credentials. For now, he was content just to listen.

Zalthar steps into the gathered people, off to socialize with others. But throughout the rest of the evening, she keeps at least one ear trained on the five, if not positioning herself so she can look at them casually.

As the evening drags on, various beings make their way out of the yard once again, some having asked the priests particularly interesting existential questions, and not getting any sort of unified answer from even a single pair of priests, while others are simply content with the warm, fancy meal offered to them.

Eventually, even the ambassadors retreat, escorted by two of the LongTech guards to a nearby, upscale inn, and the final beings eventually drain from the yard.