>>5978777>>5978764>>5978740>>5978805[Thanks anons. An episode of Frieren and generous pour of proper Canadian rye whiskey went a good, long way to improving my mood and getting the creative juices flowing again.]
>>5978515>>5978340>>5978194>>5978170>>5978109>>5978086>>5978070“The Neme-Ashurati?”
“Well, technically either ‘the Neme’ or ‘The Ashurati’… And I’ve heard of it being pronounced ‘ASHERati’, too.”
“Oh, are those the elves you told me about that can, like, swim throughs and stuff?” Costella asks.
“Technically more of a ‘genasi’ than an elf,” you correct Costella. “It’s like an elementally-attuned fairy descendant, but—”
“Wow! I’ve never meta sand-elf before!” Costella gushes.
“They’re not ‘sand-elves’, Costella,” you sigh.
“…Elemental fairies?”
You both look to Izzy who, while she is still sulking, is unable to hide the curiosity in her voice, and whose shaded gasses are woefully-insufficient to hide the flashes of fiery light which tend to flare up when her eyes are wide and her interest piqued. Costella grins, giving you an utterly-unsubtle thumbs up and wink, and you stifle a small laugh.
“I thought it might be useful to discuss our ‘Unseelie Star’ problem with them, given their affinities,” you say, “but you never DID get to see the Goblin Wastes last time I encountered them, so if you’d be interested—”
“Yes,” Izzy says quickly.
You don’t bother hiding the laugh this time, and you nod.
“Well, we’ll make plans as soon as this whole, ah, SITUATION Is sorted out, then. How about that?”
Izirina frowns, as if trying to figure out whether this is some sort of trick or manipulation. The battle is already won, though, and you both know it. Izirina has NEVER been able to hide her interest in fey magic or the cultures of the East; if the Goblin Wastes are bit less exotic than the distant Oriental lands, the Neme are far more exotic than some Easterling human city… At least, to a human like Izzy.
“I’ll pack my things,” Izzy says.
“Well, we’re not going yet, but…”
You trail off, because Izirina Henzler is already off like a bullet rom a dwarven hand-cannon.
“Good thinking,” Costella whispers, watching as the third member of your triumvirate bustles about, popping in and out of the tent and grabbing various tools and reagents from her scattered ‘field laboratories’ around the area.
In truth, you’re a little excited yourself. It’s been a while since you last visited these distant cousins or the strange, harsh clime in which they dwell. You recall fondly your training there, and the strange sand-filled sanctuary in which you learned the <Daylight> spell. You wonder if you’ll see your old acquaintance Nemenmo, who taught it to you, and what else you might learn…
But one thing at a time.
“Uh, Izzy? We still nee that <Dimension Door>!”
“Huh? Oh, right!”
