Butterflies Redmane, Eszebet, Lord December, and Thomas discuss how to bring closure to the feud.

"Look, I'm not going to vanish into the night," Thomas asserts as he trails along with Redmane as the pair finally head towards the makeshift medical building in the old town. "I mean, it's not even night. Its ... lunchtime. It's hardly dramatic and mysterious for the hero to disappear at lunchtime." He even flashes a playful grin to the red haired woman.

"Well, it is not as if I have you on a leash," Redmane replies, with a grin of her own. "I just thought it would be proper for us to check in on Erzsebet and the elder together."

"I wouldn't put a leash past you," Thomas retorts and wags a finger at her. "And on a more serious note ... HAH!"

Redmane nearly jumps at the sudden exclamation, and turns fully to face Thomas. "What? What is it?" she asks, looking around and holding the grip of her silver sword - but not drawing it yet.

"I've gotten you to smile more," Thomas notes, winks, and takes off in a dash towards the medical building. Wolves scatter as he goes darting between them.

"Oooooo," Redmane rumbles, and then gives chase!

Thomas doesn't exactly play fair in the chase. His body blurs out as if there were a dozen echoes of him running through the camp, making him almost look like he's moving in slow motion. Still, they're all going in the same direction...

"That doesn't work when I know where you're going!" Redmane calls out, nearly laughing as she jogs along - and probably drawing odd looks from the wolves.

Quite a few odd looks, at that. Especially one from Valeska, who is standing outside of the crumbling medical building as she watches the antics of the pair that approach. Thomas slides in the snow, coming to stop just behind Valeska. "Quick! Leap to my defense to stop more bloodshed!" Thomas declares as he points towards the oncoming Redmane.

Apparently, the elder is having none of this. She merely glances between Thomas and Redmane and asks, "What did you do to annoy her this time, tracker?"

"Annoy? I never annoy people," Thomas declares and crosses his arms. He sniffs loudly and looks towards the sky.

"Valeska!" Redmane says, smiling to see the healer. "How goes the recovery of the wounded?"

Valeska makes a sound that is suspiciously like a rumbling laugh deep within her chest. "I leave you to your delusions, then." Cocking an eyebrow at Redmane's approach, she answers, "Bravil is a strong man and will recover very quickly, I have no doubt. Our wounded brother - well, I assume that he will not be our brother for much longer - will require more time to heal but he is resting comfortably. As for Erzsebet...hm. I suppose we have much to thank your Lord of House December for in her regard."

"Oh? And why is that?" Thomas asks as his eyes flick towards the elder. He's still got his nose in the air, though.

"I didn't realize Lord December had brought any medicines with him," Redmane notes, figuring that is the aid he gave.

The healer gives Thomas a brief, wolfish smile. "Why don't you see for yourselves? They are both within at this moment."

Redmane shrugs to Thomas, and then heads into the building to see.

"Well, the wolves aren't exactly known for modesty," Thomas notes with an amused grin. His legs step forward and his torso rolls to follow them in an exaggerated and ridiculous saunter. "Make way!"

Stateroom of Decay
This room was once an infirmary of sorts, or perhaps a morgue, judging by the equally spaced stone beds. Along the walls are row after row of old bottles and clay pots containing an odd mix of strong smelling herbs and liquids. Though the room is crumbling as are all buildings in this ancient town, this one has been kept generally clean, probably to help keep the rate of infection from wounds being treated lower.

"Even if you do not feel hungry, you should eat. You must regain your strength," Lord December is heard saying as the pair enter the chamber. He's actually sitting on the floor near the stone bed that Erzsebet still rests on. He's holding a bowl of some sort of stew and apparently trying to get the woman to actually eat some.

"Forgive us if we're interrupting," Redmane says upon entering, thus giving the Lord a chance to dismiss her if necessary.

Erzsebet has her head turned in the fey Lord's direction and is actually smiling gently at him. "The reason I do not feel hungry any longer is because you have fed me part of the meal already," she teases in some amusement. Then she looks up at her friends' entrance.

"Part is not all," Lord December says rather gravely, "If you continue to refuse, I will be forced to do the butterfly." Though, when Redmane's voice registers he sits up straighter and puts the spoon away. "You are not interrupting. After all you have been though because of me, it would hardly be of good manners to dismiss you," the Lord notes.

"Far be it for us to interrupt the butterfly," Thomas quips with a grin.

"I see that Erzsebet is making a fine recovery," Redmane notes. She's still smiling, since her good mood hasn't been ruined yet by any bad news. "Don't mind Thomas; he is full of... energy... this day."

For her part, Erzsebet merely looks between the three of them, confused. "I do not know of this...butterfly," she says. "What does it have to do with eating?"

"A-hem," Lord December mutters and gives Thomas, a look. To Redmane, he notes, "I am used to his ideas of humor, as odd as they may be. He occasionally proves to be useful and resourceful, so he is tolerated."

"The insults I must bear," Thomas laments.

Patting Thomas on the head, Redmane says, "The Explorer is going to show me the location of the shadow-creature's lair, Lord December. I will likely continue from there on to the Palace of All Seasons to make my report, if you have no further need of me."

"You bring them upon yourself, Lord Explorer" Lord December notes sternly. The air of seriousness is not held long, though, and he actually smiles, "Now, enough with this banter and pretend anger. You are both welcome. Please, sit."

While Lord December isn't looking at him. Thomas pantomimes holding a spoon to Erzsebet. He makes it 'fly' around, then swoop into his mouth by way of explanation. Thomas then winks and settles down on a nearby table.

The knight approaches and sits on the next empty slab. "Have you worked out any plans yet for.. well, repairing relations, Lord December?" Redmane asks.

When Lord December looks to the Knight of May to answer her question, Erzsebet stares at Thomas, her eyes wide. Then she gives him that fangy grin he knows so well and covers her mouth with a hand to keep from laughing!

"I do expect you to return with me to Lunafell to explain to the residents what happened here. It will be a difficult situation to explain to them and not breed resentment, I fear, but it must be done. They should know the truth of what happened here," Lord December tells Redmane as he sets the stew bowl on the ground nearby. "The wolves seem to have accepted that we are not enemies. Now it is up to us to convince the fey that they are not enemies. I am hoping that if they see one of them at my side as well that it will help."

"Knowledge will cancel fear," Thomas offers, "People fear what they do not understand ... so it is a matter of making them understand. I would recommend you show them families, Lord December. And show them that the families that adopted the younger fey that were taken did care for them as family as much as they were able to."

"That brings up the question of the transformed ones," Redmane notes. "There are bound to be a few with bitter feelings, as well as those who wish to remain with the pack. I worry about the soldiers as well. The ones at Lunafell seem a bit.. keen.. on conflict, and would resent my testimony on the situation."

"They can resent it as much as they like, but they are oath-bound to serve the House. If they disobey an order to leave the wolves in peace, it would be to their own detriment," Lord December points out. With a roll of his broad shoulders, though, he admits, "But, it must be addressed as well. As for resenting your testimony, well, that is something you must also learn to deal with. There will often be those who do not agree with you. How you handle that will define how you are seen by others. My suggestion is do not let them anger you or bait you into trading insults. That only serves to make you look in the wrong. If you are always calm and polite in the face of an opponents anger, you will appear that much better."

"Such are the politics you will have to deal with, Redmane. Your life will not be all fighting with the blade. You must learn to fight with the mind and word as well," Thomas adds to that.

"Just do not pick up any bad habits from the Lord Explorer. His tactics are a bit suspect, Lord December points out, "One of him is more than enough."

"Of course," Redmane says, with a sigh. "I will be as polite as possible. That will infuriate some, I'm certain."

"Suspect as they might be, the people like me. Win the hearts of the people and you have won the battle," Thomas points out. "But, as I have noted before, I get away with much because I have proven myself. This is your chance to prove yourself to them. Once they respect you as a person, you can ... relax more."

"Do not forget you have the support of the Knights of December," the low and gravelly voice of Bravil is heard to say. A large mass of blankets roll and the knight slowly sits up. Bloodstained bandages are wrapped tightly around his chest.

"Convincing the people of Lunafell will be key then," Redmane notes. "If they feel threatened still, the soldiers may decide they have an obligation to deal with the issue. Ah, Sir Bravil! I would rather have you on my side than any army."

"And that reminds me. You have not yet answered my request. Will you return with me to my castle?" Lord December asks Erzsebet, then takes up her hand gently. "I wish to hear more of your life and show you the legacy built by your ancestors."

"I make a great shield of meat," Bravil agrees in a grumble and taps the bloody bandage.

Redmane snorts, and almost bursts out laughing at Bravil's comment - but manages to rein it in, just barely.

"I have a suggestion for winning the people of Lunafell," Thomas comments, "If you wish to hear it."

"I think we can use all of the suggestions we can get, Thomas," Redmane notes.

Erzsebet looks back towards Lord December now, greatly amazed. "You wish to invite me into your home, having only just met me?" she asks, that odd coloring returning to her cheeks and forehead. "Are you certain?"

"If the pack has any small children at all, bring them along. Put a face of the innocent on the plight. Show them that the wolves have been suffering just as much. People do not always have sympathy for adults, but they always have it for children," Thomas suggests.

"I would also hope to bring the head of the monster," Redmane says. "To show who the true enemy was all along."

"How else could you become more known to me? I cannot stay here; my duty calls. But, if I left you behind without getting to know you, that would only compound the tragedy that has fallen these past days," Lord December answers in his typically formal way. However, when he says, "Please?" it loses a bit of that formality.

"That is also a good suggestion," Thomas agrees and nods to Redmane. "Just be careful to not incite too much aggression in the men."

"With the monster, you mean?" Redmane asks Thomas. "Or do you imply that I somehow incite too much aggression in them?"

"The monster. You do not incite too much aggression typically," Thomas explains. "Well, unless you just came from a battle..."

The wolf woman's look of surprise softens when she hears that note in Lord December's voice and she looks down at their clasped hands. "I...I suppose the pack could do with one less omega for a while," she says slowly, making up her mind. "Thank you for the offer. I will come."

"I'm sure the skull will look good once properly cleaned and mounted in the Hall of December," Redmane reasons. "It is not as if I will be bringing back a live monster.. or riding on its back, after all," she notes to Thomas with a grin.

"You will not be an omega at my court. You will be second only to myself there," Lord December asserts.

"Hey, if I had killed it and saved the day, you would have been bored. I brought it back alive because I was thinking of you," Thomas claims. "Besides, it was appropriately dramatic and exciting. No one ever remembers the monster that limps in. Now, one that comes through the ceiling..."

"The temple will need to be repaired too," Redmane remembers.

"Speaking of riding the monster through the ceiling, I have a request to make," Thomas asks. "Minimize my involvement in this in the official reports. Credit should go to Redmane for the resolution."

Erzsebet's expression clouds briefly. "But second only to yourself would be your mate," she says slowly. "Are you not - wait, how do the fey put this? Married? Yes, that is the word. Are you not married already?"

"I intend to commission engineers to repair the town, if the wolves permit," Lord December says. To Erzsebet, he answers, "No, I am not. Matters of court leave little time to seek a second and I refuse to bear a political marriage."

That strange flush upon her face only seems to deepen as Erzsebet murmurs, "Ah, I see."

"I've never been to a fey wedding," Redmane asides to Thomas. "What are they like?"

Thomas shrugs to Redmane. "I haven't been to one either, I have no idea," he tells her.

"The credit goes to Lord December, actually," Redmane counters. "He is the one who resolved things. We just brought the truth to his attention, which is what he asked of us in the first place."

Lord December squeezes Erzsebet's hand. "It will also be a pleasure to share in hunts with another wolf," he admits. "It is lonely to hunt without a pack."

"You went beyond what I asked and risked much. You both deserve credit for bringing peace here," Lord December asserts. "I will not downplay either of your efforts in the official history."

"As you will, Lord December," Redmane says, and gives a little bow of her head. "And you should go with him, Erzsebet. You do not need to be alone."

"I ask because Redmane needs the honor more than I. She is fighting a battle not only to shine in the role of Knight, but beat the prejudice of not being fey. This will do much to aid that fight," Thomas points out. "She deserves the chance to be judged fairly; based on skill alone ... not clouded by bigotry."

"Yes, it is," Erzsebet agrees softly. "I do not begrudge those days and nights I spent alone in the forest, trying to keep the fey out of the paws of our elders...but I did not like all those solitary hunts, either."

"You will not have another night alone in the woods," Lord December promises. "Just promise me something..."

Erzsebet lifts her yellow eyes to the fey Lord's own. "Yes?"

Redmane glances at Thomas, and whispers to him, "You did not need to bring up my difficulties, Thomas. Knights are expected to endure much worse."

"That you do not laugh at my hunting skill," Lord December notes with a wry grin.

"You will have enough things to endure outside of that, Redmane. There are no end to the trials of these lands. Enjoy a momentary reprieve. Allow yourself a moment to be happy," Thomas whispers in reply.

The wolf woman's lips twitch into a grin, but to her credit, she does not laugh now. "I shall do my best, Lord December," she promises. "Besides, all skills improve with practice and time."

"He might even show you how to catch butterflies," Thomas can't help but comment to Erzsebet. He winks.

"Well..." Redmane replies, and seems at a loss for words, until Thomas makes the butterfly remark. "What, in the snow?" she asks.

"Not that kind of catching butterflies," Thomas claims.

Redmane tries not to look hopelessly confused, and turns to Bravil to see if he will explain it to her.

Hearing this, Erzsebet can't help it - she throws her head back against her thin pillow and laughs! It's not as strong a sound as it should be, but it is dark and pleasant. "You two never cease to amuse, no matter what form you're in," she tells them, when she can catch her breath again.

"You really don't know, do you?" Bravil asks Redmane, keeping a straight face. "When a parent is trying to get a child to eat, it is sometimes called catching a butterfly. They make the spoon fly around and around, then into their children's mouth..."

"Oh!" Redmane exclaims, and blushes. "I.. was never a picky eater as a child," she comments.

"What did you think it meant?" Bravil asks Redmane.

"Running about and trying to catch butterflies in their mouths," Redmane admits.

"That is ... silly," Bravil admits.

"She is silly," Thomas claims. "Too many head injuries..."

Redmane opens.. and then closes.. her mouth. No sense in looking more foolish.

Thomas smiles at Redmane, then puts his arm around her shoulders. "So, regret coming to Mirari yet? You've been insulted, turned into a wolf, and confused by Butterflies," he counts off. "And oh yeah, stuck with me."

"It is far better than the lands I traveled through to reach here," Redmane notes. "I will learn, in time. Haven't you noticed that my accent is nearly gone now?"

"Which is a shame. I rather liked it," Thomas notes, then slips his arm off Redmane's shoulders. "Now, if you will excuse me, I should go check on the other transformed and see who wishes to remain and who is returning."

"And I will see about collecting the monster's head for transport back to Lunafell," Redmane says, standing as well.

"I will make sure a certain woman eats her dinner, then see to the elders on the matter of their introduction to Lunafell," Lord December comments as he picks up the bowl of stew again.

"Good luck to you both. For now, it seems I must remain here, eat stew, and gather my strength," Erzsebet tells them, with a fond glance to Lord December.

"And I will take the most difficult task of all. I will make sure that is all they do," Bravil asserts as he crosses his arms over his chest and eyes his Lord and Erzsebet.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.