#earthrunes

"Hey, where is Alan?" He wonders, for the Minstrel came into the hold... but seems to have given them the slip. "Oh well, he's probably showering"

No doubt to write an epic tune about how he, and he alone, saved the day!

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In Zara's crooked little tower room, several pieces of furniture have been pushed aside to make room for the warding circle of red paint. A cage sits in the middle, containing a very sick bird.

Hume is not too far away, oh not in the room, but nearby if she needs help. Of course, she can't call out being a sluagh but there you go.

The bird coughs/caws now and then

Zara is seated opposite the cage, tailor-crossed, with her hands resting palm-up on her knees. Denzien magic is different. Glamour is glamour, yes, and glamour is hers to spin and twist as any other skein.

Unseen to most, a white raven flutters about the rafters.

But the sluagh is still. Meditative. Focused, utterly, on reading the glamour woven about the corvid, that she might pick apart the warp and weft of the enchantment.

It is not easy... but she has time, and training.

(Int plus Kenning)

((Spending a WP))

/roll explode 8

It is SLOW work, but she finds the patterns, and with her skill at puzzles and conundrums on top of it, she think she knows how to remove the Archeri's influence. The danger is, if it goes wrong, it may latch onto her, making HER a carrier even as it frees the bird

Her true heart bird hangs back, cautious to the dangers, for it too is a corvid.

She drapes her torso forward, sternum to the ground without unfolding her lotus legs. A thoughtful roll of fingertips against the warped hardwood.

And then, she sits straight up. "If something else can catch it?"

Something not animate, clearly.

Clearly.

(Int plus Enigmas, please)

/roll 9

Zara knows that in magical workings, the symbols often IS the thing. Emmit stressed that often

but she is a librarian! And Librarians are nothing if not well read... (And given her current outfit, well red too)

And one name comes to mind of something that MIGHT help... or teach 'Dorian Grey'

"Earl, love?" He is in his studio, of course. But her heart wants him.

Indeed, a white raven flutters its wings...

and shortly there after, "My hind?" Earl peeks in, he has indeed left the studio, paint on his finger tips but he cares not. "Is all ..." His eyes fall to the plagued crow "Is that what I think it is?"

"Aye."

She stretches up a hand towards him, inviting his grasp. "I require a simulacrum."

He takes her hand , but his eyes are still a touch concerned, "I can deny you nothing, but I do have protective troll urges in this. Will you be safe?"

"I believe this is the safest plan. Couldst thou paint that crow? As it would appear, were it healthy."

He looks it over. A farm boy was he, and he has seen crows before. They're not seen as friends, but he knows what a healthy one looks like "Yes, yes I can. Won't even take too long if you don't need a background"

She stretches upwards, and grazes her lips against their intertwined fingers. "I trust thou to know what is best, there."

His eyes light up with delight "Then I'll get on it right away."

"Thank you, hunter-mine."

He smiles at that, and slips away.

It actually takes longer than Earl expected to finish the art to his liking. He was also in danger of making it TOO surreal.

Zara gently insists on realism, for the bird, at least.

Later, he returns with it realistically done, "Sorry about the wait." he shows the canvas, small sized enough for the crow, not much background, but healthy looking and every feather detailed

"Feh. Twas no time." She pecks him on the cheek. "It is perfect."

A smile at the light peck, "Thank you. Now, order me to step back or I'll be looming all over you in trollish concern"

He knows his limitations, it seems.

He gives her a peck in return, and steps back, ordered or not. He resists the urge to loom protectively.

"Better to have few targets when I do this." A pause. "I shalt need fabric. Who wants to bet Coradel has a whole closet of red silk sheets?"

"Vashti might too. I'll go fetch some. " he offers.

And out he goes. He returns, "You were right about Coradel's closet having sheets of red galore. She can fuss at me later." He hands them over.

"She'll be fine. Especially once Samson is better."

"We must needs create... ah... an enclosure. And you mustn't be inside when the working begins, even if thou art draped in scarlet and silver. I would not risk thee, not for mine own life."