westwhere | [ CLOSED ] Grief will have to wait.

WHO: Wrathion & fellow travellers
WHEN: Travel Arc!
WHERE: Mistress Isakanami's inn.
WHAT: A multi-prompt travel arc extravaganza! Check here for planning something custom, or he has an end of Serthica network post here or an open inbox!
WARNINGS: None at opening

Wrathion is exhausted.

So much as he is pleased to leave Serthica, so much as he is relieved to have had results there the whole experience has left him drained. The concept, then, of having some reprieve before they launch into more lengthy travel is... appealing, to a point.

It does, he assumes, mean staying somewhere else -- and based on their previous accommodation this may not necessarily be... pleasant.

Although it would be nice if it was.

The journey is long, but being flown there is at least pleasant initially. Far better than hiking, a wagon, or having to ride another creature. Then the weather begins to cool further, and Wrathion senses that they will not be relaxing in a tropical climate.

Snow. Of course.

The Merchant, at least, appear to have selected somewhere with pleasant-seeming facilities. They are, naturally, housed with the staff and expected to perform some minor tasks...

Still. If this place is devoid of any major problems, it does have potential. A hot springs in the mountains brings back fond memories, of a far flung place long ago. Of a time when he was young, before he felt the bitter sting of consequence.

It is also, so far, blessedly free of hozen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They are achieving none of the above, I'm afraid."

He gestures at his table openly, carefully closing his notebook and glancing back over at the party. His eyes narrow in distaste.

"Well past 'tipsy' too."

At least, by his terms. He lets out a slow breath, eyes moving back to Illumination. The horns are... interesting. The colouration leading Draenei but the rest of the features not quite matching that. Mixed heritage? Or something else entirely.

"Are you here with the party who arrived from Serthica, courtesy of the Merchant?"

Making it sound as casual as he can. He normally would have stopped at 'the Merchant's party', but apparently there's another one of those here. Does complicate matters when the man doesn't offer a name.

"I am. A kindly woman named Karsa helped me find my way there." As she settles in at the table, she smiles for Wrathion - a small thing, but more honest than any vulgar flash of teeth.

"Illumination, of the line of Yufin-Yufafin, one of Qin's Get, if that means a thing here. I can offer other various titles or recite my ancestry, but if that doesn't spark some memory, I fear the rest won't do much good."

"Not at all," he admits, and slides a small cup towards her. He pours out a measure of the warm, sweet alcohol. "In my experience, it's rarer to find someone familiar with your home and its charms than otherwise. You are recently arrived?"

He hasn't seen her before, but that doesn't mean much. In truth, he'd spent a great deal of time in Serthica split away from much of the group. She could have been here months and he may well have never seen her.

"A curse and a blessing. I love my home, but it is a vast, busy city and all the good and ill that entails." The Rift can be quite beautiful on the upper levels, but those aren't the sorts of places that Lu frequents.

"And, yes, I am. Fresh as a green plum. Yourself?" She makes a quick gesture beside the cup before taking it up. There's no magic in the act, if anything it seems to be some sort of ingrained habit. Maybe a way to say thank you?

He glances curiously as she gestures by the cup, then draws his own closer.

"Quite some time now," he admits, "close to a year. I--"

Wrathion is interrupted by the sound of... singing. It's out of tune, and the singers are not quite in time with each other. They also seem a little uncertain of the lyrics. He shoots an irritated look their way, steels himself and takes a sip of his drink. The warmth and sweetness go some way to dulling his desire to do something about it.

The drink is set down, and Wrathion gives a thin smile.

"One of our previous accommodations was in an area suffering a drought. There was a lack of clean water, and the people were dismal. At the time, I thought I would give anything for a decent supply of warm, clean water. I am now beginning to wonder."

Plenty of that here, but at what cost.

Illumination considers their options, and offers at least one solution to their current problem. "And now, we have a great deal of water, but it can be terribly dangerous when not in full possession of one's faculties."

Look on the bright side, they might all drown! Happy thoughts, friend. It would mean more ghosts, but they might have moved on by that point. With a perfectly polite smile, she picks up her own drink takes a sip.

"Oh! That is nice."

That is, in fact, a cheering thought. Wrathion lofts an eyebrow, glancing over at the group thoughtfully.

"It is, isn't it?"

A comment on both water being dangerous, and the drink being pleasant. He drifts his gaze back to illumination, thoughtful.

"Illumination, you said?" A shorter version of her full given title, but he assumes she will correct him if that's the form of address. "You may call me Wrathion."

"I did, most people tend to shorten it to Lu, and I can live with that." Other diminutives are pretty much forbidden. "And it's good to meet you, Wrathion. It's better to meet you and have a drink, so you have my thanks for that."

I can live with that implies it is not a preference, and Wrathion isn't one to shorten a person's name unless they enjoy being addressed that way. He wouldn't want it done with his own.

"It dulls the irritation," he agrees, "even if it cannot quite remove it entirely."

So long as said irritation keeps its distance, perhaps there can be peace.

"There was a place not dissimilar to this I visited in my youth. High up in the mountains, a tavern with a small hot springs out the back. Much quieter."

Well, aside from when he had scores of visitors all vying for his attention and for rewards. Those clients tended not to stay, however, only to pass through.

"What are the local mores around harmless, but annoying short term cursing? A little hex?" As a treat. She probably wouldn't do anything too mean, but a gal can dream.

"Will you tell me more about it? My home is far from anything resembling a hot spring. There are a few steam powered baths and the like, but that's not really the same thing, is it?"

"Have you visited the springs outside? The concept is the same in my home -- naturally heated water, mountainous region, advertised health benefits. I haven't the expertise to comment on the latter part, but I've been told the heat is often good for aching limbs at least."

Anything else, he wouldn't be able to really confirm or deny.

"The attached tavern allowed guests to stay overnight in the area, enjoy food and drink between using the springs, although I wonder how regularly busy they were. The Veiled Stair was somewhat off the beaten track, not terribly accessible from other population hubs. Perhaps that was the appeal."

[ CLOSED ] Grief will have to wait.

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