#carnival

A beautiful necklace, something tight to the skin; gold. In the center, front, a deer laying down, limbs folded under it and wearing a crown as a collar. From that crown, a short chain hangs. There is a clasp on the opposite side.

A faint frown on her grey lips, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"Again, not from me."

Earl does not trust this.

Does not like this.

And is still mentally kicking himself. All his progress, and then then this..and suddenly it's like his cousins and uncles were right about him.

"No...." A little frown, and she inspects the box. A sniff.

A hint of incense; lavender, sandalwood.

"And there is no way it's from the Balor in the hold last night either. It's ...too precise with too little time. "

"A white hart? Aye..." She kens the box, looking for any lingering glamour.

No Glamour in the box... but Glamour on the choker? Yes.

"Now I wish I could omen or willowwhisper." he looks over to make sure they haven't been robbed while she checks that out.

"That is my job, nu?" She lifts the choker out by the paper, setting it on her lap to examine the inside of the box.

A plain cardboard box. Tissue paper. And... the necklace.

"It is. I know ," he says "I just worry. Particularly about collar like devices soaked in glamour"

Her pale fingers hover over the necklace, not-touching it. "There's glamour here, aye... White hart, tell me what thou art... beneath silver and gold are answers to be told...."

OOC Roll it.

(( Zara rolls 8 dice to soothsay 9,10,10,4,9, 2,5,9 [5 successes]))

He quiets while she works.

OOC Holy shit.

OOC: House Eiluned may try to draft her if they hear about rolls like that

OOC TRY to?

"It's His..."

((Yeah, that's kind of impressive.))

"His..oy. I'm sorry, so sorry Zara. This is my fault. I fell asleep when I meant to stay up. You were counting on me and that son of a bitch leaped through the window of opportunity I lefto pen."

"I can't... is the glamour a cantrip? Aught else?" A soft sound of frustration.

"Is not thy fault. You warned me to the danger...."

"And then let the danger walk all over us. He didn't steal anything else. Maybe HIrim can tell what it does, or would do to you? Or Uncle Emmit?"

"And what did your omen tell you?"

"Just that it is his? or was there more?"

"Not Hirim, no. He would..." A sigh. "You know what happened last time."

"Yes. He would put you in a tower. I understand the urge, but it would just make you crazy. And this monster is patient."

"I shall not be some damsel."

"I know, have I tried to make you play the part?" He reminds.

"No." A scowl at the necklace.

She turns it over, looking at the back.

A regular necklace clasp; a lobster clasp.

"I suggest you not take the bait. Hirim would treat you as a damsel, HE seems to treat you like a fish he wants to hook in the mouth" A pause "or a beast to collar around the neck."

"Aye.... but.. but why is there- glamour-? What does it do?"

"I would not be surprised if it messed with your mind or something. Mmm maybe another omen on the glamour itself ? Can you do that?"

"Not yet. Unless a cantrip goes wild again."

"Right." he ponders "Emmit is your mentor, for you, he might try to learn more. he's no love of the Balor or any sidhe."

Her fingertips hover again, not-touching. "Aye."

"Want to hear the good news?"

"What?"

"The copied page is intact, and the egg is unharmed." He says "Which..whew. If he had taken the former, we'd have lost something you remembered enough of to want badly. If he took the latter, well, I think we'd both feel terrible. Can you imagine what Balor do to a Bookwyrm?"

"Oh! The Bookwyrm! We must take good care of it, yes.... they would hurt it, I'm sure."

She checks the necklace again - looking for "traps"

"they hurt everything," he nods, "I think I hate Balor. I can't even stand that oh so polite one that shows up in Firnost."

"The eshu?"