Jenner suffers an inner battle with the always-open eyes of a dead man, who Rowena just hauled from the river. Yes, it really is as odd as it sounds. :D

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Nar i-Nenesse Dam *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

    Nar i-Nenesse dam has stood the test of time, stress and intrigue. Although it has been refurbished and reinforced several times, it retains its original shape and design, its dwarven stonework recognizeable as high quality even at a distance. Streams of water pour out of the sluices of the dam over wooden wheels which turn under the pressure. These man-made waterfalls empty into the Silver Flood region of the docks, creating a thunderous roar that can make it difficult to hear anything else. If there's no fog, the huge expanse of Brightwater Bay can be seen to the south, often under a rainbow created by the mist of the falls.

    There are relatively few businesses and homes here due to the noise and the perpetual dampness. However, goblins and others work on the machines harvesting the power of the river and fishermen often press their luck and ply their trade dangerously close to the cascading water, so a few shabby taverns and eateries line the waterfront catering to those individuals.

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 Rowena          Simply dressed dwarf in shawl and braids              0s   21m

 Jenner          Sailor Mage! Also not fragile.                        39s  31m

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Commerce District <E>     Artemllys Lake <N>        

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It's Eliday, Hattanani 03 03:51:49 1006. The full moon isn't up. The tide is low and ebbing.

It grows lighter, and you see that everything is veiled by fog. It's moderately cool and the air feels damp and still.

Light dances through the fog--a floating, jostling movement. Like it's yanked back and forth with the determined swing of a small hand. And, small hand it is as Rowena stalks out of it, headed towards the dam. She looks tired, disgruntled, all at once. Her hair hangs in frizzy strings about her face. It's the middle of the night.

Water continues its eternal thunder across the ridges of stone and iron, an old song upon a new surface, continually raining down. Fog and mist shroud the view, clinging to the surface of the waters farther from the rippling pulses, billowing clouds pushed back by the lively force, the never-ending press of strength from falling wates, roiling stream. And upon its peak, a silent figure.... One barely limned by the edges of moonlight just over the horizon, the flicker of stars glimmering free.     

A form unmistakably with wings.....

"Excuse me..." she says to some passing goblin as she stops at the edge of the peer. And the Vardaman peers down at it, on that pier, and into the dark, sloshing water. Oil floats in places atop it, and she brushes her hair back behind her ears, instinct, to keep it from falling in no matter the distance. And, not seeing what she was looking for, a small frown makes its way there, and she begins to make her way down the pier again, moving...slowly. She doesn't notice the wings, or the figure. She stares intently at the water.

Bright eyes watch from atop, cold stone upon cold stone. Curiosity brings its own bright spark, the shift of the winds a ripple upon the lean frame. A click of movement and a single step, broad wings fanning outward before the trace of motions sliding down, drawing the one above in a curving arc to the land below.     

"Up late this evening," Jenner remarks, tapping to rest a respectful distance away. "Good eve, Lady Vardama."

She makes a shushing sound with her fingertips, shh-shhh, before kneeling and plunging a hand into the dark, oily waters. After a moment, she leans back and settles the lantern--so she can lie down on her stomach and plunge the entire arm in. "Ooooh...I know it's in here somewhere...!" the eyes narrow at Jenner, then the water. The hand swishes around. "These waters are so nasty..."

Jenner nods with a grimace, a murmur dispelling the magical wings from his shoulders. "And it should not be," he says, shaking his head. "Probably a result of the goblins' handiwork, or any number of things dumped into the waters here." He snorts softly, moving over to kneel next to the priestess. "Though I'm afraid I have to ask what it is you're looking for." He glances aside, eyebrow rising.

Nasty. Nasty, in fact--she swirls around a moment, hand in the water, until she comes across something. Her small form goes still for a moment--then stiff as she grips something just beneath the surface and hauls it upwards. In the foggy shadows, a doppleganger matches her--hand to hand, arm to arm. Small arm to small arm...only on closer look, this one's sort of green. "Something someone dropped," nastily. "He can't do a thing right...excuse me." She backs up on the pier, pulling the--small corpse with her. And speaking of goblin works--this one's a goblin.

Jenner's moves are quick, as though expecting.... The mage draws a scarf from his pocket, wrapping it around his mouth and nose as swiftly as he can. "If someone's dropping goblins in the water, small wonder it reeks so badly!" Though kept quiet, with a glance for any goblins nearby. "And here I thought most bodies were dropped out in the ocean, for the sharks and urchins and crabs to dispose of..." He waves his fingers in the air, taking a step back. "What happened to him?"

"Cliknkla Kurry..." Rowena's small nose wrinkles as she priest-handles the corpse out of the water. And drops him onto the pier with a sickening, thickening squelch. "He was supposed to be delivered this afternoon, but his mates showed up empty-handed," sniff, "And drunk, to boot. ..." she straightens, and starts to wipe her hands off--grimaces, and slowly lowers them to her sides, instead. "Well, I've brought a bag. ...what are you doing out here so late, anyhow?"

Jenner raises himself up a bit taller, glowering down with a hint of mischief. "I'm a mage," he states primly, "And our ways are inscrutible to lesser minds!" He holds the arrogant pose just a hair longer, eyes shifting from side to side before he leans down with a murmur. "....and work so fast that some of us can't sleep. It's been a rather exciting day; I'm afraid I couldn't sleep."

"Well, if you can't sleep, you might as well be put to use," is the priestess' sharp verdict. Then, a smile, "I'm recruiting you for the good of the faith. There's a bag in my pack...do you think you could get it out?" She has corpse-hands. Icky, smelly, terrible...corpse hands. Cliknkla has no comment except the slow lolling of his head to the side. A set of dead, staring eyes boggle at Jenner, as though to say, 'Whatchoo lookin at???'

The mage snorts softly. "Isn't that some sort of blasphemy?" he asks, unable to keep the grin from his eyes. Tucking his scarf into a firm position, he steps over towards the pack, kneeling again to begin searching the contents. Ignoring the uppity deadthing, he tugs the bag from its place, shaking out the neat folds with a snap. "In part, this pool was part of the reason for my lack, tonight." He chuckles softly, sighing as he moves back over, staff tapping out a quiet staccato. "Darn things...."

The pack holds...things. Sticks, feathers that turn out to be quills wrapped in soft fabric, a metal plate or two, and the sack lies just beneath. And then, above it, a small copper container, which tips, threatening to tumble over and onto the questing hands. It's marked 'ink.' 

"Pool? Cesspit," muttered, as Rowena holds her hands at an awkward angle in front of her. They're covered in corpse-cooties. And the goblin, Clikankla, continues staring. 'Foo? Foo! Whatchoo doin'??' "And well, I suppose, but it really needs done. Do you think you'll be able to sleep after this?" Clikankla stares.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Jenner remarks, glancing towards the fat eyeballs with a decided glare. A murmur of words, quick whispers set magical hands flickering to invisible life.... Closing those staring eyes, for the first part. "And that's what most people treat the water as. Something to wash away all evils, anything that they don't want to remember." He gestures for a moment, setting the sack down before he reaches into his own satchel, searching.     

 "Here," he adds, withdrawing a crystalline decanter. "Pure water for pure hands. Touching old bodies is never a pleasant, or clean, experienece."

Noooo! The eyes stare. They wish to stare--silent eyes stare at Jenner through closed eyelids. Accusing, as the cooties are washed away. And then, perhaps, cries sad corpse tears because he can't do that anymore. Rowena in turn looks grateful, giving him a smile before running her hands underneath the water. "It really isn't, you know. Well, either one of them," she scrubs her hands together. Glances up, then quickly down at her hands again. "It really just makes them smellier." Grimace.

Jenner nods, sneezing once before he recaps the decanter. He doesn't even have the good grace to gloat over his victory! Poor sad dead eyes. "I'd almost ask for the city to dredge up whatever is still down there...." He glances at the waters, glowering. "Except that I'd probably be blamed for trying to raise an undead army, or something. Blech."

Poor, sad dead eyes. They cry dead tears, too. No more tormentation! No more staring! The last of the Coyote-spirit in the goblincorpse sighs as it floats away...and the body seems to slump a little more. Gray a little more. And Rowena's happy to wash her hands, scrub them against eachother once again before stepping back and...drying them on her skirt. Oh, well. Win some, lose some, eh? "We like not to think about that. Every week or so we come out and say a service," sniff. Then, "You coming? If you help, there'll be breakfast in an hour or so. We don't charge."

Jenner pauses a moment, glancing towards Rowena. "Not to be rude...." he begins, trailing off carefully. "..but you aren't doing any of the cooking, are you?" He glances back at the corpse, and whispered words set gentle hands magically drawing the remains into the bag. "Just that.... it might not be the best."

GAME: Jenner rolls Diplomacy: (13)+6: 19

"You don't think I'm a good cook?" frowning, Rowena well...she frowns at him. "I think I do just fine, thank you! And if that's the best you can say, well--good day to you!" and grabbing the corpse-arm, "Come on, Clinknkla," she hauls it off, bobbing-flopping on the pier behind her. At one bump, the eyes pop open. And it...it...it stares at Jenner. Boggles at him. 'I....am coming to geeeeetttt yoooouuuu....' or something thereof. Suitably goblin-like and spookily.

"Oh no you don't." Though whether to the body or to the priestesss is a matter of question, as Jenner marches along right behind, mystic hands quick to lighten the load! "You've been working and searching the whole night, and clean or not, the water is cold! You need a hot meal to warm the bones, and not having to cook over it is the best thing." Mage Diplomacy at work! "Now, let's get back to the temple and be done with our poor friend here."     

Waggle-fingers. Eyes-closed.