Bounty Hunters - Session 32

A Chat With Lorinda

• The Gurgyl lowers itself, invitingly, but not quite comfortably. Whip clambers up the difference and lowers a rope for the rest.
• Lorinda notes how delighted she is to see them, and that she gets very few visitors. Madrin makes a remark that perhaps her home has some responsibility for that, which Lorinda laughs off.
• Joana gets right to the point: "We have come on behalf of someone who once made a bargain with you."
• Lorinda is cagey about the possibility, "A bargain made is a bargain made." But she does not reject the possibility of a new deal outright. She invites the group in, and disappears.
  • This is awkward, because there is no obvious exit door from the foyer.
• Bern very immediately notices that the mirror does not actually reflect the room accurately.
• Whip, working on a hunch, figures the mirror out and ends up in a cozy parlor. Lorinda stands there, expectantly.

Whip: I'm uh sure my friends will be along shortly Mother: Oh! Well, let me go fetch the tea. I'll be back in a moment. Whip: She's just gone to get some tea Madrin scans the books with a librarians appraising eye. She sees some have fallen haphazardly, and tsks while putting them back in place. Whip pulls a child's doll out from under his back, shudders once and places it gently on the table in front of him Whip: Uh I know you're a librarian and all but Whip: Maybe don't touch the weird people-eater's stuff right now Madrin: Being in another dimension is no reason to miss treat ones book Joana: What's she gonna do, eat us? Whip: This is Fey bullshit maybe they hate being organized who knows Whip: I don't mean her even maybe literally the books hate it Bern: There's a door behind the curtain. It just opened. Bern: Come sit down, perhaps? Mother: The curtain opens, and Mother steps out Mother: Oh, I see your friends all made it! It took time for the water to boil, sorry for the delay. Mother: Please, have a seat. There are some sweet rolls on the table there, help yourself. Mother looks different here. Her hair is whiter, giving the impression of bleached seaweed as much as hair. Her skin is a sickly green, and her fingers are long with sharp, bony nails. Whip stands as she enters Mother sets the tray down and pours out five cups of tea. The liquid is brown, with an earthy and pungent aroma. Whip waits for Lorinda to sit down first before sitting back down Joana: Thank you for your hospitality. Mother: Oh, dearie dearie, sit down, please! Mother stands, staring at you expectantly. Whip: Would you like this chair, Mother? I'm sure I can squeeze with the rest Mother: Oh, that's so POLITE of you! Thank you so much, my old bones would love a rest. Mother sits down. She leans over and lovingly rearranges the doll on the table. Whip makes sure to take a roll and a cup on the way to his position Mother settles into the chair and sips on the tea. Mother: It's so nice to share an evening tea with company. Joana: Some time ago, an elf named Anise traded you the love of her children. Bern: Yes, thank you mother Lorinda. A lovely evening tea indeed. Mother thinks. Mother: Oh, Anise. that is not a name I've heard in some time. It sounds familiar to me. Mother: A mother's love is sweet. Long lived and stoic as the Sidhe are, their love tastes sweeter still. Mother: I know of this love. I have tasted it many times. It helps make an exceptional sweet cake. Mother: Is there anything more precious than a mothers love? A reckless thing to barter away. Mother: And, for what? Trees? Mother gives a polite scoff. Joana: Yes, but a mother's love for her children is expected; perfunctory. What of a child's love for her mother? Mother: That is natural, expected. The child would not exist but for the mother. Children often grow up mean and unworthy. Mother: But, a mother's love can't be corrupted. Bern: I wish to offer not only my love for my child, but my memory of my child. I offer you everything that makes me a mother. Mother thinks. She looks at you for a long time. Mother stands up and walks over to you. She puts her face uncomfortable close to yours and takes many, many small sniffs. Then a great breath. Mother sits back down. Mother: The love for this child you don't know? The one you abandoned? How sweet can such a love be? Joana: The love for a hopeful, idealized version of who the child could be? Bern: A love uncorrupted by disappointment, and with added spice of grief. Mother: Perhaps so. There was no grief present in the love from the elf woman. But, that said, what is the love of a firefly to that of a man? Mother: How many mothers become grandmothers and die in the space of one Sidhe life? Bern: And what of my womb itself? The rest of my body must remain whole and healthy, no disease, and me alive. But that which gave birth can be yours. Whip looks incredibly uncomfortable Mother: Added to the pot, a prize of greater worth to be sure. I have long sought the means to finally have a child worthy of my own love. Mother: Sadly, I am disappointed by the bitterness of their failures. Mother: How old is your child now? How refined is the grief in this love? Bern: She may now be old enough that her monthly courses have began. Almost all of the milestones of her life have ocurred without me, as I stand alone. Mother: Oh, is that so? And you, so young. Madrin squeezes Bern's hand Mother: They say a mother's bond with her child is never truly severed. A spiritual thread contacts them always. Mother: I feel this even with the craven failures that are my own brood. Mother: A Sidhe's love, even bleached by time and trauma, is a powerful thing. but, it does sound like you have something worthy of trade. Mother grins the grin of the wolf, not the grandmother. Joana: And what Anisee gave will be returned to her in full and intact? Mother: I will give it to the one I'm bargaining with. What she does with it is her own concern. Bern sits for a long time in cold, agreived silence. The quiet is uncomfortable and oppressive, but none dare break it. Joana: casting Message to talk to Bern Bern: Perhaps you ask too much. Perhaps Visserdrix would give us a better deal for his freedom. Would you like to ask for less? Mother clearly does not like the change of tone and implicit threat. Mother: Ungrateful child, it is YOU that came to ME might I remind you. The vermin are only caged by their own cowardly natures. I hold no sway over them. Joana (in a message) Bern: Now that the offer's on the table, are you really okay with this? Do we need to prepare our contingency plan? Bern (in a message) Joana: If you think we can take her, start blasting as the quickest goes for cauldron. Mother: You have been polite up until now, and for that -- and the offer you have made for me -- I will forgive THAT transgression. Mother: You shall find my hospitality less hospitable should you continue with your tantrum. Mother: You have come to be to barter for a pearl of great price, and I have made you an offer true and fair. Bern: Fine. A deal. Whip: We uh appreciate your patience. Clearly this has been pretty tough on her Bern: But first I request that I add some spice to your stew. Mother smiles. Mother: Are we being metaphorical? Mother shakes her head sadly. Mother: I'm afraid you have already said the words. The deal is struck. Mother waves a clawed hand at the tea in your hand. Mother: Drink. Bern: I did not agree to drink -- I eat or drink of nothing from this plane. Joana (in a message) Whip: Message: Don't know how this deal is going to go down, but be prepared to go for the cauldron if things pop off. Whip (in a message) Joana: aye aye cap Mother: It is necessary. I assure you this plane will make no demands of you nor hold you in any thrall. You must take a small piece of this place into yourself to replace what you are going to lose. Mother: It's the only way this works, dearie. It would be very -- impolite -- to renege at this point of the negotiation. Mother smiles dangerously. Joana (in a message) Bern: Bonus points if we don't return empty-handed, but we have your back either way; just give the signal. Bern (in a message) Joana: note what 'love' looks like so we can find the other love if we need to Bern: drinks Mother: As the potion passes your lips, a sudden, searing heat envelops your entire body. It starts in the pit of your stomach, like a molten core, and then spreads like wildfire through your veins. Each heartbeat is agony as the liquid courses through you, causing muscles to spasm and nerves to scream in protest. The pain is unyielding and relentless - a cacophony of burning sensations that seem to target every cell in your body. Sweat pours down your face as you grit your teeth against the onslaught. Just when you think it can't get any worse, a deep, gut-wrenching cramp grips your abdomen, leaving you gasping for breath. The potion has done its work; fertility now an impossibility. And all that remains is an echo of torment as the pain finally subsides. As the potion passes your lips, a sudden, searing heat envelops your entire body. It starts in the pit of your stomach, like a molten core, and then spreads like wildfire through your veins. Each heartbeat is agony as the liquid courses through you, causing muscles to spasm and nerves to scream in protest. The pain is unyielding and relentless - a cacophony of burning sensations that seem to target every cell in your body. Sweat pours down your face as you grit your teeth against the onslaught. Just when you think it can't get any worse, a deep, gut-wrenching cramp grips your abdomen, leaving you gasping for breath. The potion has done its work; fertility now an impossibility. And all that remains is an echo of torment as the pain finally subsides. The hag's eyes glint with malicious intent as she extends her gnarled hand toward the trembling character. With a whisper of ancient words, she extracts something from deep within their chest – a warm, glowing bead that seems to pulsate with the very essence of love. As the hag holds this radiant sphere between her claw-like fingers, the character's eyes widen in horror. They can feel the love they once held for their child slipping away like sand through an hourglass. The warmth and tenderness that had filled their heart now grows cold and empty, leaving them hollow and bereft. Desperation fills their gaze as they reach out to take back what was stolen, but the hag cackles cruelly, clutching the bead close to her wretched form. The room echoes with her laughter, as Bern looks on mutely and blankly. A child now sits in the corner, holding the doll that once sat upon the table, a cruel glint in her eyes. The child, once the center of your world and the object of your deepest love, now stands under the malevolent creature's control. Yet something within you has changed; an essential part of your heart has been stolen away by the hag's vile enchantment. As you gaze upon the child, you find yourself strangely detached and indifferent to their plight. Your memories of shared laughter and tender moments are now hollow echoes, leaving only an empty void where your love once burned brightly. The hag cackles at your muted reaction, her wicked grin widening as she revels in this twisted triumph over your emotions. Mother: Dearie. Come here. Joana: And the price that was promised? Mother: A mother's love is a connection that transcends worlds. That silvery connection is mine now. Mother: And you shall have what you wish. Mother whispers into the child's ears. She runs off into the back room. Mother: My daughter is so obedient. Not like my other n'er'do'well children. Before you lies an exquisite glass vial, its delicate contours encased in a filigree of silver. The vial's stopper bears the lovingly crafted likeness of a mother cradling her child. Within the vial, suspended in the empty space like a captured firefly, is a single bead of light that seems to pulse with warmth. This light is said to be the essence of a mother's love, stolen from her very heart. As you hold it gently between your fingers, you can feel the faintest thrumming emanating from within; it resonates with longing and comfort interwoven together. You cannot help but wonder about the tale behind this purloined affection and how such a luminous emotion came to be confined within this fragile vessel. Bern: A deal is done.

• It is, indeed, Bern's child. The twist enrages Bern, and she immediately goes on the attack. The fight breaks out.
  • Lorinda presses the glowing bead into herself and disappears, so thoroughly that even Whip cannot sense her.
  • Elian turns into a wolf and makes a show of going after Bern's daughter, to throw off Lorinda. The rest take their initiative, falling into their usual combat groove.
  • Elian's bluff has the desired effect: Lorinda appears, having changed into a giant ape and looking very angry/
  • More blows are traded, and the session ends in media res.