FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

'They are said to be exceptionally strong,' Madame Archelle mentions softly, swirling the wine in her glass around with her hand. 'Strong, fast and very hard to keep dead. If you're still considering hunting down one of these things, you are going to need lots of help.'

She leans back in her large chair. 'You might think the Captain intends to hunt them but he doesn't. It is they who are hunting him and his associates.'

Alysa nodded, unsure of what the woman's words meant for her silent plan. Her fingers found their way to the fraying edge of her golden plait and began to toy with them. "I presume that would be the reason why I was advised to refuse this invitation then. Though if I know anything about the creatures from what you've told me today, the Captain is not the only one they will be hunting and perhaps I will stand a better chance if I throw my sword in with him".

Stroking her chin with her ring encrusted finger, Madame Archelle nods.

'I expect that is why the Captain took such a keen interest in you. You have also been a victim of these creatures and, from what I know of them, they do not like when their prey escapes them or when someone claims one of their kind.'

Her smile continues to be grim, like that worn at the conclusion of a great battle where the thrill of victory is tempered by the realization of loss.

'Don't confuse it for loyalty, however. Their corrupted nature prevents them from developing any true bonds and the only thing they hate more than being hunted is the constant company of others of their kind.'

Once more, she leans forward, splaying out one of her hands on the tabletop. 'As I understand, they are beholden to their creator while, at the same time, being utterly selfish and inconstant. I suppose that is why they call it a curse. That and it brings out every dark and dangerous desire you've ever had. The illusion of liberation.'

Gesturing at the plates of biscuits and bread, Madame Archelle adds, 'Come now, eat! I'm sure that Magda shall prepare something delicious for dinner. Just don't ask her for the recipe. However, all this shall be thrown to the birds if it goes stale.'

Heavy thuds echo behind Alysa and a stout enters the room. The stout folk, called by some, rather rudely, as dwarves, hail from the mountains of Altus as well as Landerangst or what is now known as the Frightlands. There is a distinct prejudice against them by most of the populace of Angalon as many of them are refugees, their homelands rendered almost entirely unliveable by the occupation of the Horogoth. More damning is the belief by many that they were responsible in some way for the appearance of the Horogoth and that the loss of their realm is the result of some pernicious bargain they made.

They look more or less like shorter, much broader humans with squarish heads, brawny bodies and thick limbs.

'Hallo, Madame,' the stout says. He is wearing a leather apron over custom made clothing and he has a pair of shaded goggles perched atop his head. Many of the stout folk boast lush beards but, particularly among the younger generations, they have adopted a more clean shaven look in imitation of the human society into which they've integrated themselves.

The stout pauses as he suddenly notices Alysa sitting there and he bows his head. He is not terribly ugly for one of his people, with his chin bare and his shorn short hair sticking up randomly, frosted with bits of sawdust.

'Oh, beggin' your pardon, me lady,' he says, bowing his head at Alysa.

'Not to worry, Athan,' Madame Archelle offers, smiling. 'I doubt she took any offense. Athan Stone, this is Alysa Damora. She's here on an invitation by the Captain.'

'Well then!' Athan replies, stepping forward to offer his thick fingered and callused hand to Alysa. 'Athan Stone, at yer service, me lady. Any friend o' the Captain is surely to be a friend of me own.'

"A pleasure I'm sure" Alysa smiles as she shakes his offered hand. "Seems to me the Captain is a popular man around here and someone I would do well to better acquaint myself with if he keeps such interesting and pleasant company".

The blonde leans back once again, observing the scene before her with those keen blue eyes that seem to never miss even the fastest movements. She'd encountered men of this sort before and while the older ones were rather set in their ways, the younger ones made for interesting company.

"But by all means proceed, I would hate to keep Madame Archelle from her business"

Nodding politely at Alysa, the stout turns towards Madame Archelle.

'Just checkin' in with you, Madame,' he explains. 'You can tell the Captain that things are goin' well but she won't be ready as soon as he likes. She was beaten up pretty badly and it's only thanks to Arcadian luck that she's in as good a state as she is. She's a tough little fighter, that one.'

'I shall inform the Captain when I have the opportunity, 'Madame Archelle answers. 'As you know, he and the others are busy making preparations. The jig is not only up but cutting a rug, Master Stone, and I dare say that it's high time we joined the dance.'

Grinning, Athan claps his hands together. 'Klaret will 'appy to hear that. He's been wantin' to test out his new toys.' Then he seems to remember they aren't alone and glances skeptically at Alysa.

'Oh, speak as you will, Athan,' Madame Archelle says with a dismissive wave of her hand at Alysa. 'She's not an infiltrator and she's not wearing anything that would hide her intentions. That is, unless the lawgivers have devoted significant means to her and, if that is the case, I doubt the Captain would mind. He's always wanted to brag about being wanted in every country in Angalon.'

'Yer thinkin' of Darek,' Athan grunts softly, 'and 'e already is.'

Alysa can't help but chuckle, she could only imagine the sight she made, sitting in Archelle's parlour dressed and looking for all intents like a stalker. She imagined it must be quite confusing but the thought somehow brought a smile to her face.

"Seems I've found myself in the middle of quite the situation" she grins "though if I had any sense other than one for adventure I would have heeded the warnings and ignored this invitation. But I always have been one to go where trouble is and it seems like this time it's found me!" She looks from the man to Archelle with a grin on her face like the proverbial mouse in the cheese cupboard.

Rolling his shoulders in discomfort, Athan smiles at Alysa.

'Didn' mean no offense by it, me lady,' he says apologetically. 'You are all dressed up like a cantor, after all.'

'And that is why the Captain sent her to me,' Madame Archelle responds loftily. 'Because of my impeccable fashion sense.'

'I s'pose so,' Athan snickers, winking at Alysa, 'but I best be back to my work.' He clenches his fist loosely and places his thumb on the bridge of his nose in some kind of odd salute towards Madame Archelle. 'Madame,' he says, before repeating the gesture at Alysa. 'Me lady.'

Because of their denser musculature and bone structure, the stout folk are heavy. He tromps out of the room, the floorboards groaning underneath him. Despite their difficulties among the humans of Angalon, they are renowned as craftsmen and they get along well with the little folk, sometimes called nomes, but are said to be rather cool towards the fair folk of Mystykara.

'Pardon the interruption,' Madame Archelle says to Alysa. 'Now have some bread and wine and ask me any questions you please. I'm certain a curious girl like you should have many.'

She clutches her glass in her hand and takes a sip of the yellowish liquid within.

Alysa nods and picks up her glass which is still half full and takes a sip. "You seem to be very good at understanding people, but I feel I must ask you something. You see I think I know one of Mira's weaknesses and it's not anything like what you say. You see she wears these charms and one time I managed to get one of them away from her and something strange happened".

She takes another sip of wine before recounting the tale of the spectre who would have helped her escape if she was not so weak. She is curious to know if Madame Archelle knows anything of such creatures and just what forces beyond what she knows may be at word at Redclyffe.

She concludes her tale and cuts some bread from the loaf sitting between them, setting it on her plate and taking another sip of the wine. The only reason the young rogue can stomach it at all is that it is so vastly different from the tainted vintage she'd experienced that she can almost convince herself that it is not wine at all.

'You shouldn't judge yourself too harshly,' Madame Archelle remarks as she sits back in her chair, letting her hands descend to her armrests as she shifts her legs around into a more comfortable position. 'Even those who are wise concerning the abilities of such creatures can fall victim to their dark power. Mira Marlowe herself was nearly rescued by a renowed scholar and hunter of the dead yet, in the final battle, he succumbed to the will of Mira's mistress. They are not to be underestimated.'

She smacks her lips after another sip of wine. 'As for this spirit of which you speak, I would not be surprised at all if Mira's mistress has enslaved any number of dread abominations. It is certainly within her power to do so and vampirs do have an affinity for darkness.'

Her heavy lidded eyes flicker up and down. 'I know a great deal about spirits, Mistress Damora. They are my specialty. I can tell you that the dead are all around us but most of the time, they ignore us or don't even notice we are here. Most of them are still lost in the fog of their own passing and don't realize they are dead. They failed to make their peace or perhaps died so suddenly, they don't realize they are among the departed. Another associate of mine can see them whether he wishes to or not. I envy him this talent but I daresay most others would not.

'Still I insist, regardless of all the scary stories you may have heard, that the dead are far less troublesome than the living. Your experiences aside, of course.'

"That is what I find strange Madame, if the creature in the charm was in fact under the control of Mira's mistress, why did it tell me how to escape? Would it not have been more likely to attempt to stop me?" Alysa is once again left with more questions than answers, but at least Archelle seems willing to speak to her about such things, where others have merely ignored her questions or changed the subject.

"And... what would happen if someone say...failed to keep their end of a bargain with such a creature?" she asks, "I may have promised that in return for giving me the information on how to escape Mira's clutches I would...well take it with me when I left and clearly I was in no state to do that by the time the Captain found me". She is clearly concerned that her actions may have some strange repercussions now that she is free. She alternates between bites of bread and sips of the cheap wine as she explains her questions. "In fact it rather looked like it wanted to kill Mira if I gave it a chance, which is something I don't understand at all, perhaps you might have some perspective on my experience".

'I never said it was under her control,' Madame Archelle answers dryly. 'It could have been yet another trick or maybe whatever it was didn't like being enslaved.'

She shrugs as she takes a long drag off her cigarette and exhales a plume of smoke from between her lips. 'Who does?'

Shaking her head, which is now wreathed in a distinct haze, the woman taps some ashes to the floor. 'I wouldn't concern yourself about it but if any wayward spirits do happen to bother you, do let me know. I have ways by which to communicate with them and find out what they might want.

'For now, though, we had best find you some suitable clothing! Those robes are very lovely but they shall stain so easily and aren't sturdy enough for traveling.'

Motioning with her hand, Madame Archelle bids Alysa to, 'stand up'.

"Indeed, I cannot think of anything or anyone who would enjoy such a fate" Alysa says as she drains her glass and gets to her feet "I shall be sure to tell you if anything out of the ordinary comes around Madame. As for the moment I agree, a change of clothing is very much in order, I do not think I could take another day of these robes, white is entirely not my color".

She can't stop the smile that spreads across her face as she sets the empty wine glass on the table. "Besides I would hate to cause any more trouble for you than I already have based on my appearance at least!"

Cupping her chin with her fingers, Madame Archelle studies Alysa carefully.

'I don't think I have anything in your size,' she laments. 'I gave most of my older clothes to Magda. Poor thing didn't have anything fashionable at all to wear.'

Sighing, she rises from her chair and walks over towards the wall with the three bookshelves. She murmurs something under her breath and the center row of shelves slowly swings inwards to reveal yet another large room.

This is evidently Madame Archelle's bedroom. In addition to a handsome four poster bed, there are a pair of wardrobes to either side of an elaborate vanity, complete with a large mirror. A chest rests at the foot of the bed and there is also a slanted desk next to a smaller bookcase. Light streams in from portholes along the left hand wall as well as several lanterns that shine with a dim illumination that is not created by any visible kind of flame. The air is heavy with the scent of perfume and incense, not to mention rather stuffy.

'Now, let's see what we have that might suit you,' Madame Archelle declares, gesturing towards an ornate chair by the desk.

She opens the wardrobes and begins to rifle through her collection. It is reminiscent of the volume of gowns and dresses that Alysa had seen at Redclyffe, though to a much smaller degree. Moreover, Madame Archelle favors less gaudy gowns or decadent dresses. Instead, she seems to prefer leather reinforced corsets and heavier fabrics.

Looking over at Alysa introspectively, she clucks her tongue. 'You're clearly more of a summer color girl but, at the same time, we don't want you to mistaken for one of those brainless debutantes. We need something that says feminine but dangerous.'

Alysa cannot help but wonder what she's going to look like when Archelle is through with her but decides it cannot be as bad as looking as she does now. She's puzzled why she would need clothes that could stand up to travel as she's really agreed to nothing yet, but perhaps they're counting on her desire for revenge to make any decisions for her.

She's toying with her hair again, clearly lost in her own thoughts as she listens absently to the other woman talking about clothes. She'd never been one to collect such things and the last time she was anywhere near a dress was when Dakrom dressed her in that blue monstrosity at Redclyffe and before that when she was a child.

The rogue simply shrugs at Archelle's words "I shall have to take your word for it Madame, I am not one for fashion really, but I trust that you know what you're doing and anything is better than this, so by all means, do what you must".

'It's still spring so maybe we can just do a basic black but that's so boring!'

For her part, Madame Archel is clad in mostly midnight blue and royal purple. Her corset is accented by her sashes and the long skirt she wears but her style is still rather eccentric by the measure of polite society as Alysa understands it. The effect is rather rustic but also functional, particularly her belt with the many small pouches hanging from it. She would never blend in at the fancy balls that the aristocracy attends but she is clearly not a beggar either.

Finally, the madame produces a simple leather girdle with a reinforced bustier and a black skirt as well as a dark colored petticoat.

'This shall do for now. At least you can change out of those robes. People in this neighborhood would just as soon not be visited by the lawgivers and some might mistake you for one of those sweet but clueless young cantors and attempt to take advantage.'

In addition to her apparel, Madame Archelle has a large knife secreted at her side and a pistol clearly wedged against the small of her back. Whatever magic she may possess, she evidently likes to reinforce it with some more mundane methods.

"And I cannot blame them for that. Ive had my fill of them to last me the rest of my life and perhaps several more after that" the blonde chuckles, shes rather glad that the clothing Archelle has picked is simple and dark, of she has to fight at least she will not have to worry about attempting to do so in some ridoculous outfit.

"Though if any tried to take advantage as you say Madame they would find themselves with quite a fight on their hands" she grins wickedly, some part of her still itching for a fight after her captivity. "I may look innocent but even the fluffiest kittens have claws"

Madame Archelle holds up her index finger as she sets the clothes neatly on the bed for Alysa.

'Speaking of that, how good are you with a knife? You mentioned you'd spent some time as a dock rat and you did say they had taken away your sword and pistol. That suggests you have some training so here.' She undoes one of the straps that holds one of the scabbards for her daggers on her belt and tosses both the weapon and the sheath on top of the clothing.

'There you are,' she smiles. 'Now, no need to be modest. Go ahead and change and don't think I'm watching because I want anything other than to make sure all my possessions remain where they are. Don't take any offense, Mistress Damora. I don't even trust the Captain to be alone in my quarters and he would tell you that's a sensible precaution. Besides, I wish to see how well they fit and if my eye for detail is lacking.'

She walks over to sit down in the chair that Alysa occupies. 'Now get changed and maybe we can go for a walk around Ganelon before the sun goes down and the streets become too dangerous.'

Alysa chuckles again "I am not bad with a knife, better with a pistol but any weapon at all is better than none". Her words are tinged with playful laughter as she walks over to the bed.

She hurriedly strips off the bloodstained robes she is wearing, replacing them with the clothing Archelle has provided her. She must admit she feels almost instantly more comfortable as she straps the still sheathed dagger to her hip. It has been many weeks since she last had a weapon and yet she knows her skill will not have suffered much for it.

She quickly pulls the tie from the braid that holds her hair and re-plaits it neatly before walking over to Madame Archelle and giving her a playful turn so she can see her handiwork.

Sitting in the abandoned chair, Madame Archelle folds her legs as she watches Alysa change.

'Pistols are harder to come by, obviously,' she mentions. 'You can always buy or steal one but I imagine the Captain can make arrangements. You say you're good with one, do you? The Captain will be pleased. It's a challenge sometimes to find skilled crewmen, let alone ones that can make a fight of it. I don't suppose you have any other skills, do you?'

If the question seems suggestive, the woman's tone is anything but professional. When her eyes rove over Alysa's form, it is more appraisingly, like Alysa herself might view a potential new horse. That might prompt her to remember Jax who, according to Mira, had been devoured by a troll.

As though reading her thoughts, which is not entirely out of the question as the woman had demonstrated such disturbing insight earlier, Madame Archelle quips, 'I imagine they didn't even let you have a knife to cut your food or a sharp fork to eat it with.'

However, now that this woman mentions it, Alysa shall recall that, while in the shrine, all her meals were usually already sliced or chopped, consisting largely of stews or soups, and the only eating utensil with which she had been provided was a wooden spoon.

'It's a bit loose on you,' Madame Archelle remarks with a sour look on her face, 'but I suppose it shall do. At least you'll blend it while you're here. That is, presuming you plan on staying. I ought to tell you that the Captain tends to travel in the company of knaves and fugitives. I myself am wanted in Viktoron. Thankfully, the oathkeepers of the north don't bother chasing petty criminals or escaped lunatics this far south.'

Turning towards the doorway where the bookshelf is still opened inward, Madame Archelle nods at someone unseen and another woman enters the room. She is blonde like Alysa and Magda, but, unlike Alysa, whose hair is very light, and Magda, who appears to have had hers bleached by the sun, this woman has more of a dirty ash blonde color. Not only that, she is lanky and somewhat thin, though not as thin as Magda, and her face is set rather resolutely in a shrewd expression. In other words, none of the three blonde women would ever be mistaken for each other.

'It appears the Captain is back,' Madame Archelle comments quietly.

'Not just yet,' the other woman answers with a somewhat thick Northern accent. 'He's visiting the big lady to see how she's comin' along. The stout reckons that she should have a full recovery.' She giggles slightly at some joke and then pivots on her heel to stare directly at Alysa. Even though she had not even so much as looked in the direction of the bandit, Alysa has the sense that this blonde knew she was there all along.

'Hullo then,' she says with a faint smile and extends her hand towards Alysa. 'You must be the girl from Redclyffe that Robur told us about.'

"Well I am not currently wanted, but I have been called a knave once or twice, bandit more than once and scoundrel more times than I care to count!" Alysa laughs as she attempts to banish the painful thought of her loyal horse from her mind,"I suppose I shall fit right in then!".

"As for the question of me staying here, I don't really have anywhere else to be and you've definitely given me a few things to think about so I see no reason to cut my visit so short. But depending on the circumstances that could always change", she says glad to finally be more or less left to her own decisions.

"But, such decisions of course can wait for some other time, it is not often lately that I get to enjoy such wonderful company and I intend to make the most of it" she says, flicking her braid back over her shoulder as she watches the woman, she does not much like being eyed like a horse for sale but she supposes that such things are something she will have to get used to if she intends to spend much time here.

She turned as the woman who had joined them spoke, "now that is the one thing I am definitely guilty of being, though I assure you I look a million times better than I did when he found me and probably at least an improvement of some sort or another since he saw me this morning".

The blonde woman stands there with her arm outstretched for another moment before she realizes Alysa does not have any intention on formerly greeting her so she lets it fall back at her side, appearing somewhat perturbed.

'No need for that,' Madame Archelle says quietly to the woman. 'The cards vouch for her.'

'Still no need to be rude,' the blonde replies frostily to the madame while still having her eyes fixed on Alysa.

'Alysa Damora,' Madame Archelle speaks, gesturing towards Alysa, 'this is Krystyna Arex. She was a fellow guest of mine at Abbey Park.'

Krystyna nods at Alysa. 'Dressing another founding in your hand-me-downs, I see,' she remarks with a slight smile as she surveys Alysa.

'She came here in cantor's robes. Rollo and the girls almost killed her and Chase took a swipe at her with his knife.'

'That damn boy going to get himself killed and end getting this whole place shut down,' Krystyna sighs wearily. 'He has absolutely no manners.'

Shrugging slightly, Madame Archelle says, 'Magda gave her one of her poultices so she's right as rain, are you not, Mistress Damora?' She blows out still more smoke, which is now hanging in the air, creating halos of light around the lanterns.

Krystyna coughs slightly. 'Captain Robur wants us all to meet down by the beach where she's docked. He expects less people will over'ear wot plans he's got if we gather in the open. 'Course, we might have to deal with the local constables but not with the Oathkeepers.' She gives Alysa a sidelong glance and a hint of a grin. 'Seems they've got wot looks to be a pack of troubles up in Gornmont

Alysa offers Krystyna an apologetic smile "my manners are not quite as wonderful as my appearance would lead you to believe, but I assure you it is a pleasure to meet you nonetheless". She has to stifle a laugh at her own momentary incompetence with social graces, but being alone for as long as she has will do that. "But Madame Archelle is right, I am perfectly fine now, not even a scar it seems" she laughs.

"Trouble in Gornmont you say Krystyna!" she feigns surprise rather well for a woman who knows entirely too well just what is going on, "well none of us would know anything about that now would

we!" Alysa manages to maintain her act for a few moments more before she dissolves into giggles. "Blast! It seems I cannot even act innocent with any form of sincerity!" Her right hand rises and runs through her hair, snagging awkwardly on her braid before she finally realizes what she's doing and puts her hand down.

Krystyna smirks thinly. 'Not much of a confidence woman, are you? So not a swindler or trickster.' She glances at Madame Archelle. 'I'm going to guess more of a cutpurse or even a footpad. Maybe even a cutthroat.' Her green eyes glitter mischievously as she extends both of her hands, palms upward.

'Place your hands in mine,' she requests. Behind her, Madame Archelle nods gently.

'Take care,' the other woman says to them, not indicating to whom she addresses the statement.

Alysa steps hesitantly towards Krystyna with a glance at Madame Archelle before placing her hands in the other woman's. She remembers that Archelle had mentioned that Krystyna had her own gifts and she wonders just what they are that Krystyna intends to use them on her.

The rogue cannot help but wonder to whom Archelle refers with her words, but she assumes that they are meant for both women. She is fighting the urge to pull away and resume toying with her hair as she always does when she is nervous, but she knows that Krystyna may be offended if she does so she does her best to keep her hands from shaking as she rests them on her upright palms.

Smiling reassuringly, Krystyna closes her eyes. At once, her grip tightens and her nails dig into the back of Alysa's hands. Her face is contorted in a mix of pleasure and terror and she lets out a moan that is at once both sexual and horrifying.

She falls backwards onto the bed, her body arching as she cries out repeatedly and Madame Archelle has risen from her chair, her expression one of fear and concern. Bending over the contorting form of Krystyna, she commands Alysa.

'Go to the bar and tell them that I need Magda! Now!'

Yet even as Alysa moves, whether or not she intends to comply, Krystyna croaks, 'No, Ari, I'm fine. It's fine. She has just been marked is all, marked by the touch of something wicked and it can still feel her.' Her eyes flutter open as she sits up with assistance from Madame Archelle.

'I did not sense any of the blood in her,' Madame Archelle mentions doubtfully.

'It's not mystical,' Krystyna explains. 'The blood has been purged from her but the creature is still in her mind, like a small sliver that remains from her violation. It's in her mind.' Her eyes focus once more and she peers at Alysa. 'You need to not think about what happened, as hard as it may be. The more you dwell on it, the more you harbor a home for it in your mind.' That gaze pierces Alysa just as surely as that of Mira. 'You know of the memories I speak.'

Madame Archelle gazes quizzically at Alysa and then to Krystyna. 'I didn't sense anything like that.' She nods at Alysa. 'Could you go and fetch the bottle of wine from my parlor?'

'You wouldn't, Ari,' Krystyna says softly. 'It's not on the surface but buried very deep, deeper than the bottom of the ocean.'

'Then how did you find it?' Alysa shall overheard Madame Archelle asking.

'It's part of the curse of my gift,' Krystyna explains. 'As I've mentioned before, I see the bad more than the good as the bad leaves deeper and more painful wounds.'

Madame Archelle sits down on the bed next to Krystyna and softly strokes the other woman's unwashed blonde hair.

Alysa nods as she walks into the parlour to fetch the bottle of wine. She knows exactly what it is that Krystyna saw and she knows that the woman is right, she cannot allow those memories to remain with her, they will only hinder her in her plan. She snatches the bottle off the table in a single swift move and almost runs back to where Archelle is sitting with Krystyna.

The startled rogue offers them the bottle with an apologetic smile. She feels guilty for what Krystyna just experienced and she makes a mental note to keep any physical contact with her to a minimum to prevent another incident like this. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have let you touch me" she says by way of an apology, not quite sure what else to do. "Are you certain you wouldn't like me to go get Magda?"

Madame Archelle takes the bottle from Alysa and presses it into Krystyna's trembling hands but the blonde waves the wine away.

'I'm fine, Ari, really I am,' she says before gazing up curiously at Alysa. 'It really did quite the messing about with you, didn't it? Even put a bit of a back door in the back of your mind in case it ever needs to get in again. Not to worry, though, Little Fox. It can only get in if you let it.'

She blinks as she realizes she had used one of the names she had heard the handsome but weathered looking man on the ship call Alysa in one of her memories, a rather sad recollection that ends with Alysa watching the waves crash upon the shore through a haze of tears.

'I'm so sorry about your parents,' Krystyna adds. 'I can't really control what I see. Ari tells me with more concentration I should be able to but once I'm inside, there's so much chaos.'

Continuing to pet Krystyna on the shoulder, Madame Archelle also nods gravely at Alysa. 'I noticed your hatred and your bitterness but you hid the rest from me. That or you didn't wish to think about it. Either way, you might want to consider whether or not you wish to put yourself through this again. If you find what you're seeking, you might end up in the same situation again. Or worse.'

'They know how to use your emotions against you and they can force themselves in whether or not you invite them,' Krystyna continues. 'It isn't your fault or your weakness, Mistress Damora. You were simply unprepared. Only the strong willed can resist them and even then, they have time to break into the most guarded mind.'

'I shall go and fetch Magda,' Madame Archelle says, rising to her feet. She looks to Alysa. 'If you will stay here and sit with Krystyna. She seems to have recovered but she could still use the company.'

Alysa looks startled to hear the woman call her Little Fox, it is a name she has not heard in many years and yet, when she hears it, it is not accompanied by the usual sharp sting of a fresh wound but the soft twinge of someone poking a mostly healed bruise. Enough to startle her from her guilt and cause her to pay attention.

She considers Archelle's words carefully, as she speaks of putting herself into the same situation once again. This is something she never thought of, but the voice in her head, the one that whispers to her of revenge reminds her that she needs this, she needs to be the one to finish this before more innocent lives are taken the way Mira would have had hers. "No, I cannot allow these creatures to run amok through Angalon, I will do this, I will help you all. You have my word", her words are strong and bear the slight hint of the murderous edge they've held many times before.

"Of course, I'll stay here with her, you do what you must" she smiles as she seats herself on the edge of the bed near Krystyna. "I'm sure we can find something pleasant to talk about".

'She's starting to sound like Nicky,' Madame Archelle murmurs with amusement as she walks away from the bed and strides out through the bookcase doorway.

'All this fuss for me,' Krystyna sighs, shaking her head. 'Honestly, I think it's cos she's a bit jealous. She needs 'er rituals and wot not to peek inside someone's 'ead while I just need to touch 'em. I can do the same thing with objects too, y'see. Didn't really develop it until I was living on the streets and had to pick a pocket now and then to get a stray coin or two.' She grins a bit at Alysa. 'Something you know a bit about.

'Me mates and I used to make a game of it. They'd steal something from someone and then give it to me and 'ave me describe the owner. Well, as it 'appens, one day they bring me this coinpurse and I start describing this old man and me mates start laughing. They tell me they took it from a younger fellow who had chased them. It was a bit odd, I thought then, cos I'd never been wrong before.

'Then me mates started turning up dead and it turned out that the young man from whom they'd stolen the purse had killed the old man and was a cutthroat hisself. He almost got me as well but I ended up getting caught and locked up.'

Sighing heavily, her light, cheerful voice begins to deepen and darken. 'Now, in the gaol, you see, there's all kinds of 'orrible things that have 'appened and the walls, they remember it all. There wasn't a place I could go or a person I could talk to without howling in pain and fear at all the pictures wot would pop into my head. So that's how I ended up meeting Ari and the others at the hospital. I figured out which of them I could trust by touching them.'

Her cheeks color slightly. 'It's how I knew I could trust Robur. I mean, Captain Robur.'

Alysa does not need Krystyna's gift to deduce how the other woman feels about the man she mentions.

She nods and smiles, finding herself wondering if the Captain himself is aware of Krystyna's feelings, although she does remember Madame Archelle mentioning something along those lines earlier. She manages to resist the urge to pat the woman's leg as she listens, not wanting to hurt her any more than she already has.

"I'm sure she means well, she's probably just worried about you" she explains, though she can find herself agreeing with Krystyna, she's not one to have a fuss made over her when she's ill or injured either so it seems they have at least that in common. "Im sorry, if I had known this was going to happen, I would have refused, it won't happen again Krystna, you have my word on that. I would never do anything to intentionally harm you or anyone else here".

Smiling at Alysa, Krystyna shakes her head adamantly. 'No, I use my talents as the Captain requests and he asked me to read you. He had told me you'd seen terrible things and that I should be prepared.' She shrugs and snorts with a grin. 'I thought I was.'

She reaches over and grasps Alysa's hand, squeezing it. 'You don't have to apologize. With help from Ari and Joss, I've learned to sort of block it when I don't want it to 'appen and sometimes it doesn't work even when I do. Also, it can be fooled the same way some folks can fool the lawgivers and their candor spells. The Captain just wanted to be sure you could be trusted and, though I love Ari dearly, if she gets it in her 'ead that she doesn't like someone, it's amazing how her crystal ball and her cards will tell 'er what a sneaking bastard they are.

'So don't be sorry, Alysa, if I can call you Alysa. All that mistress business is so stuffy and formal. Madame Ari, of course, uses it because it makes her feel a bit more important. She can be pompous but she's always been so nice. Have you met Magda?'

"Of course you can call me Alysa, I think we're going to be great friends so why not start now!" the rogue is smiling brightly even if she is hesitant to let Krystyna touch her again. She is rather comforted when the other woman doesn't recoil in pain as she did last time.

"Magda was nice enough to patch me up after my little run in with your friends earlier, she seems sweet" Alysa chuckles, "and I must admit she's not too shabby at what she does either! Doesn't even feel like there was a cut there earlier! But I am glad you know that you can trust me, it seems that fact tends to surprise people given my history".

She turns her inquisitive blue eyes on Krystyna for a moment, "I'm glad you're okay, I would feel worse than I do if my memories managed to cause some lasting damage. There's some parts that even I don't remember clearly, but apparently they're pretty bad. But thank you, you've reminded me that I need to keep looking forward and not let what happened to me influence my future, the sooner I forget it the stronger I will be. It seems Captain Brawne is not the only one who holds me in their debt".

'Poor little thing, that Magda,' Krystyna says knowingly. 'She's suffered quite a lot and yet so strong. She's a bit shy but ask her about Athan and watch her light up like a watchman's lantern!' She giggles and winces. 'On second thought, maybe not. She does have a rather forward tendency of sharing intimate details. No secrets with that one but she's one of the good people I met at Abbey Park.'

She squeezes Alysa's hand tighter. 'I'd be more worried, Alysa, about the lasting damage they'll cause you. I don't think you still really know how close you came to becoming of them. Nicky, that's, um, a friend of the Captain, he says every so often one of their lot longs for a bit of company and so they find someone that reminds them of someone they knew or has some kind of quality they like and they make into a kind of mate. Not like a friend mate but like a lover mate.'

Her face blushes further. 'But it don't last because they can't really love, you see. It's all about possessing things with them. They're kind of sad. I remember, once, when I was the Park, the hospital, that is, that Dr. Wardsea touched me and all this horror and death and everything come a'washing over me.'

The hushed voice of the woman gives way to silence.

'O' course, if that hadn't happened, I'd have never met Captain Robur, would I?' She grins and giggles again like a young girl with a crush. 'So very dashing and brave, that one. I'd wager every girl in the crew has a bit of an infatuation with 'im.'

Alysa nods at her words, her own cheeks turning slightly crimson as she realizes that Krystyna knows just what motivates her to her revenge now, just how intense those memories burn when she pokes them to stoke the fire of her hatred. "No one's really told me anything, you know how the lawgivers are when it comes to things that don't fit into their ways. It seems you know more about my condition when I was rescued than I do. But you are right Krystyna, even I can admit that, if I continue to keep these memories with me it is like tasting a drop of poison every sunrise, it will eventually destroy me. If only I knew how to be free of them once and for all, but perhaps that is something that will only come with time and with the making of new more pleasant memories".

"He's a mystery wrapped up in a enigma that man" Alysa laughs "but if what I've heard so far today from Ari and yourself, well he's a good man in his way and that's enough for me to want to know a bit more about him and it was enough to lure me here, though I think he was counting on that".

'The law can only protect people so much,' Krystyna intones coolly. 'Then it is up to us to take care of the rest. Anyone who has spent any time in Viktoron has heard about the Underbelly just as they have the Catacombs under Fierabras. Have you ever seen the statue of the Veiled Lady?'

This is an unnecessary question as any adult resident of Angalon knows the image, which is found outside of every Hall of Justice and House of the Law.

'They used to teach us that the veil was to ensure that justice was unprejudiced but, at times, she's just blind and doesn't see wot's 'appening directly in front of her. That's how it feels in this matter.'

She shifts uncomfortably, pulling her hand away from Alysa and turning her head to gaze towards the open doorway.

'He's not so hard to understand once you get to know him,' Krystyna says slyly, 'but he is good at reading people. Not as good as I am but you know wot I mean. He can tell what motivates a person and use it if it helps him.'

Blinking and frowning, she glances back at Alysa. 'Not that he uses people, mind. I mean, he's a bit of a scoundrel, as he'd admit, but he's got a good heart and he's not a wicked man, regardless of what the Oathkeepers may claim about him. Yes, he's still wanted for the theft and all but we needed to get out of the city and she's been ours ever since.'

Magda enters the bedroom, followed by Madame Archelle, who points insistently at Krystyna.

'Honestly, Ari!' Krystyna admonishes the lavishly dressed medium, 'I don't need anything! I've been having a lovely chat with Alysa here and I told you to leave Magda to her cooking!'

'Oh, dear me,' Magda whimpers to herself, 'the stew will burn.'

'Magda, have you anything for nerves?' Madame Archelle presses the slight, slender blonde who continues to mutter as she wrings her hands.

'Nothing that won't blind her and blind she'll be and not to see and she don't want to see, you see, for without seeing, she cannot see,' Magda explains to the madame.

'Oh, bother!' Madame Archelle snaps. 'I go and fetch her for you and now you'll be most uncooperative!'

'I told you not to fetch her, Ari!' Krystyna retorts. 'Now you've gone and upset her!'

'Best go check on the stew,' Magda murmurs. 'Stew will burn.'

'Yes,' Krystyna says, rocking herself forward on the bed to lightly bounce to her feet. 'In fact, I'll go with you, Magda, and help you.' She glares at Madame Archelle, who simply shakes her head and rolls her eyes.'Forgive me then,' Madame Archelle replies dryly. 'I foolishly considered your welfare when I should have just let you writhe it out on my bed and make a mess of the sheets.'

'Relax, Ari!' Krystyna says, patting Madame Archelle on her shoulder. Of the four of them, Alysa is still the tallest. 'Sounds to me like part of your problem is that you haven't anyone mess up your sheets in a while!' She swiftly darts out through the doorway as Magda follows.

'We can't all be sleeping with our employer,' Madame Archelle responds nastily. 'Not that he would mind so much!' She calls out after Krystyna, who departs, giggling, with Magda in tow.

Alysa cannot help but roll her eyes at the bickering women. That was definitely something that would take some getting used to. She smiles to Magda, feeling bad for getting the poor woman involved when she seems to have so much cooking to do.

So it seems to Alysa that not only does Brawne know about Krystyna's feelings for him but that he may be harbouring his own for her, at least if what Madame Archelle says is true. One thing she learned very quickly during her time as a stalker was to absorb every bit of information around her because you never knew what would prove useful to you in the end. So she simply sits on the edge of the bed and lets the women bicker until Magda and Krystyna leave.

"She just doesn't understand you worry about her Madame, strong women are like that and if I have as good a read on her as I believe I do, she simply doesn't want to feel like a burden because of the less useful effects of her gifts" Alysa is not one to pry into things, but she feels rather responsible for the whole affair despite Krystyna's attempts to assure her she was not. So she takes to stroking Archelle's ego a little hoping to soothe the tension she can feel growing in the air around her. The rogue may not have gifts like the other two women but she is capable, in many ways, of knowing what is brewing in the atmosphere around her, especially when the emotions of others are involved.

'Oh, Mistress Damora,' Madame Archelle answers dismissively. 'You haven't be here long enough to know how we operate but I'm sure you'll learn. Had Krystyna more formal training and discipline, she might be able to manage her talents more effectively but, as it is, she was little more than a lowly street thief when I met her and, despite my attempts to offer guidance, she'd rather play with her instruments and sing.' She smiles. 'Not that she is without talent. You see, our merry little band is, in truth, a band. We travel the realm, we entertain and occasionally help ourselves to some the excess wealth that the noble folk leave lying around. We share with those less fortunate than ourselves. The law would claim that they support everyone but the truth of the matter is that they can only help so many at any given time and they leave so many others outside of their beneficence for whatever reasons.'

She takes a deep breath. At some point, she appears to have set aside her cigarette as she is not holding it any longer.

'Now that you're properly dressed, feel free to visit the taproom if you like. Just don't wander around the rest of the ship. Rollo and his lot are kind enough to allow us to stay here now and then but we don't want to alienate them by poking about in their business.'

Alysa nods understandingly at the woman's words, a band, whatever could she possibly get caught up in next? But she allows Archelle to finish her explanation, knowing well enough that there are many who the law either choose not to or simply cannot help. If being a part of Brawne's crew means that she will be able to put her skills to use in more ways than one, she will surely think about it.

She rises from the bed and walks towards the door, turning to leave the woman to her thoughts, nit not before casting the woman a smile over her shoulder. "A pleasure of course Madame Archelle and hopefully the beginning of a wonderful friendship" she chuckles as she walks out the door.