Conrad/Logs/From Russia With Love

Scene I

Airplane

<OOC> Conrad says, "Okie doke. What are you taking with you?"

<OOC> Ambrosine says, "Probbaly clothing and some dross and little else."

<OOC> Conrad says, "Okie doke :)"

<OOC> Ambrosine doesnt have a lot

Summary: Ambrosine and Conrad make for Russia, a roughly 12 hour trip in the confines of the Airplane. Ambrosine becomes uncomfortable due to memories long past of tight spaces. However, an oddity occurs when they pass through the remnant of a supernatural barrier felt by the Kithain. Conrad and Ambrosine go the airport, which for Changelings is not as uncomfortable as some might think. The security checkpoints of course are a chore, however metal detectors can't pick up chimerical weapons and or armor, so Conrad's duffel bag is passed by with ease though the spike of Banality due to such intricate searches, examinations and security checkpoints complete with x-ray scanners and detector wands can be uncomfortable. The tickets of course are first class, making it a rather comfortable trip to Russia, all 12 hours of it.

The first odd thing one notices is during the flight. As Russia comes into view outside the window both Conrad and Ambrosine get a growing sense of pressure in their ears, and a coldness in the bottom of the gut similar to the checkpoint. It only gets worse the more one approaches Russia. Not enough to come under sickness, but enough to get a feeling that something is tremendously wrong. While Conrad is bearing it, he doesn't seem the least bit worried.

Amber is drugged and tipsy. She has to be. Being in this plane is nerve wracking for her and so most of it she is curled up around a flight pillow and napping between attempts to make her poor ears pop. But when the chill starts to creep in her fingers ind Conrads unconciously and she seems to grow smaller in her seat. Still she's drugged so she's not going to freak out or anything.

Conrad lets out a breath, simply to breathe. His fingers start to tap on his seat, and his leg starts to shake from him bouncing up and down on his toes. The antsyness of being so close to Banality is making him grind his teeth. The feeling lasts for about an hour, until the coldness leaves now being replaced by a subtle feeling that can only be described as feeling as if the world is not as big as it should be and lasts the rest of their time in Russia. It takes several hours after that to reach Novibrisk, where the plane lands without incident.

Novibrisk. Siberian Federal District, Russia

After the stupid roundabout through Customs and baggage claim Conrad steps outside and lets out a breath. Breathe in, breathe out. It's temperate here, unlike Cali which is still in the throes of summer weather. On one of the main panels outside, looking like directions to various parking areas all written in russian is big, blocky red script written also in Russian written in chimerical spraypaint. Conrad takes a moment to adjust to the feeling and shrugs his shoulders and looks at Ambrosine. "So! This is home. Not what it used to be." He gives her a smirk. "So we're on another continent in another country all on our lonesome. Whatcha feel like doing?"

Amber walks quietly with Conrad. She keeps her eyes well and covered and her hair has been braided and tied back with a kerchief over her head. She's got her light peacoat on so the slightly more tepid temprature wont get too her too much. She carries her own luggage and once they're outside she looks around. She is at Conrad's mercy here since she doesn't speak the language or read it. She smiles, "It is very..." She gestures, "I do not know the word." She licks her lower lip. "I don't know. What is there to do in Russia?" She asks curiously. "If this were France I'd have plenty of ideas."

Conrad eyes the sign, then clucks his tongue realizing that Ambrosine doesn't understand Russian. Whoops. He points to the spraypaint sign. "Beware the Dauntain", he tells her. "Well, think of something you would do in France. I'm pretty sure you can do the same thing here." Aren't all cities the same nowadays? "Romantic cruise down the river, arcades. I would say we could go to the Kremlin but that's about 13 hours that way." He points off in a direction. "You wanna get the party started or you want to find a place to crash first?"

Ambrosine smiles, "Go to the beach. Or the Vineyards. Travel by scooter to the country and ride some horses around the orchards." She replies softly. Take a train to Venice. Go to the Opera. In Germany we went on fox hunts. Went skiiing." She looks back towards Conrad to see if he's interested in any of these. She touches Conrads arm, "This is your trip. You pick. I like to live dangerously."

Conrad gives her a smirk. "Oh. Take the train to Venice. I think you picked that one out on purpose." He gave a light laugh. "Well. Your with me so this is your trip too. However, I'm not over fond the environs here. Need to get out of the city, get to someplace open." He knelt down and pulled out a map which he doodled on before they came here. "Well, best place out here to visit is Lake Balkai. Which is good, since it is our destination. I have a buddy there who might able to get the compass going back in the right direction." He closes the map, and calls a taxi. "At least I used to, way back in the day. We'll see if she is still solid."

Ambrosine smiles at Conrad, "On purpose?" Moi? She just laughs softly and bends to look where he's looking and she touches his shoulder lightly. It's been a near constant thing; it's something she usually does with Max. It's a near constant reassurance for herself that he's there. "Oh good. I would not mind meeting your friend." She says happily, "Ah, your compass?" The question comes on a breath as she notices the taxi pull up and she takes a long deep breath. So far she's handling all this really well for someone who is truely a throwback to old days. "Will we be staying with your friend or in a hotel?"

Conrad laughs. "I have no clue, to be honest I dont even know if she's there. But! We'll find out. If we can stay at her place? Talk about your mind being blown." He chuckles. "Otherwise it's a hotel. There are plenty around the lake so we wont have to backtrack." As he throws his bags into the trunk when the taxi driver arrives, Conrad takes hers too and puts it in the trunk while talking about his compass. "I'm sort of going off of memory on this one? It was an eternity ago, and I don't really remember much. I remember specifics, which I have a vague idea where they are at." He eyes her as she is fidgeting and touching him and otherwise being generally uncomfortable. "You never been in a taxi before?" When everyone is loaded up, he tells the driver to go to Lake Balkai the settles back in the sort of cramped backseat. "They aren't -that- bad."

Ambrosine hmms, "Well I'll be happy to meet a friend of yours." She pushes her hair over her shoulder and nods, "Oh, yes. Back in California. I am no more comfortable with them there." She folds her hands in front of her though and draws herself up and her shoulders back so she can walk over to the car. She sinks into the taxi with a breif smile for the cabby before she continues to talk to Conrad. "You have been used to them though? Yes? From your early life?" She veils her talk while they are in the cab. Even if it in in English. "I am still not entirely comofortable with large hunks of metal traveling at obscene speeds."

Conrad shrugs. "Eh, not really. I sort of rode a bike all over the place when I was younger so I never took a cab." He understood the sudden change in verbage. The taxi drove off out of the airport. He smirks at Ambrosine. "Just wait until you drive a car. It's the best thing ever. You will wonder why you never bothered to learn to drive."

Ambrosine shakes her head, "I will not drive a car. It would be dangerous." She replies, "I prefer modes of transportation that can correct when I loose focus." She jokes softly an then looks out over the city her brows lifting a little. "Everything is so colorful!"

Conrad looks out the window. Novobrisk is the second largest city in Russia, next only to St. Petersburg which is the largest. Needless to say the city lights of the skyline is an impeccible sight. "Welcome to the city." Conrad points out to her, joining in looking out the window. "They may be cramped, strange places but they have a life of their own if one knows how to find it." He smirks leaning back onto the seat again. "Never seen a city like this before?" All looming towers of buildings and all.

Ambrosine shakes her head, "No not really. I've seen cities in France but they are different than this. New Orleans, Prospect and when I was in Germany I only stayed in the keeps in the woods." She says as she looks back at Conrad with a smile before pressing her nose practically to the window again to stare out over the city. Conrad laughs. "I worry the day you see New York City. It's about fifteen times bigger and more looming and more lights." He chuckles seeing her press her face to the window. "We'll take in the sights before we go back home. Dealy?" He crosses his arms and looks forward. "I've only been to Prospect and Seattle, Washington visiting family. Besides that, never been to rural towns or anything like that. Only cities for this boy."

Ambrosine tilts her head, "New York? Oh no. Nono. I only passed through there before my train ride to New Orleans." She shakes her head. She laughs softly and leans back looking back to her companion. "Alright. As long as we're careful. It still feels strange here." She admits softly and takes a long breath. "Only cities for you." She teases softly, "You do not know the joy of open country?"

Conrad chuckles. "Only when I moved from home did I find myself a city urchin." He chuckles at the memory. "Never experienced it before, thought it would be a good idea to try something new. Next thing I know it's the only place I hang. I sneak out every once in a while though, enjoy the trees and the woods. Get back to my roots as it were."

Lake Balkai, Russia

The taxi arrives to Lake Balkai, which is a very snake-like yet large lake with streams and rivers heading off into every direction. A Town and a small port line the shoreline of the lake with various people including tourists roaming the 'shoreline'. Of particular note to them is the fact that the water is the most crystalline blue anyone has ever seen, with no dilution or discoloration. To the more chimerical senses, a suble sense of glamour comes from the lake: a revelation that makes Conrad smirk. Apparently someone is home.

Ambrosine has connected.

Conrad chuckles. "Only when I moved from home did I find myself a city urchin." He chuckles at the memory. "Never experienced it before, thought it would be a good idea to try something new. Next thing I know it's the only place I hang. I sneak out every once in a while though, enjoy the trees and the woods. Get back to my roots as it were."

The taxi arrives to Lake Balkai, which is a very snake-like yet large lake with streams and rivers heading off into every direction. A Town and a small port line the shoreline of the lake with various people including tourists roaming the 'shoreline'. Of particular note to them is the fact that the water is the most crystalline blue anyone has ever seen, with no dilution or discoloration. To the more chimerical senses, a suble sense of glamour comes from the lake: a revelation that makes Conrad smirk. Apparently someone is home.

Connie listens to Conrad and she smiles at him before she looks back out the window. If anything can be said of Amber it is that she is sometimes a little too rooted in the beauty of things. Especially when it comes to landscapes. As time passes she keeps staring out the window and when the lake comes into view her breath catches and her fingers lift to press against the glass her fingers bent.

The taxi stops outside a small hotel in the town, where Conrad gets out and opens the door for Ambrosine while the taxi driver grabs the luggage. Afterwards he pays the man via a credit card from his wallet. *Swipe!* Done, and done. If scenery is what Ambrosine wishes she will get it: The area is complete boonies-style landscape. The lake obviously at it's center, the Altai mountains raise in the far distance distorted by a blue hue caused simply by distance. Woodland areas mesh into the green to black blur that many would define as 'the wilderness'. After the taxi cab lets them go, and Conrad grabs his backpack and chimerical dufflebag he looks around. "Alright...lemme think." He lets his eyes wander, the Sidhe retreating back into daydream more than reality. His eyes stare off at the lake for a full minute until he shakes his head letting out a breath. "Alright. We need two rocks and we need to find a place away from the public eye."

Amber looks suprised when the door opens. Like it's magical that suddenly the glass was there and then not there. She slips out of the cab and thanks to Cabby. 'Merci' is pretty understanable most anywhere. She bends to pick up her luggage before looking out over the lake herself and she shakes her head. "Amazing." She says softly before looking back towards Conrad. "Rocks? There seem to be plenty of rocks." She waits for him to pick a direction before starting with him. "Is it always so beautiful?"

Conrad grabs his bags, to head for the shoreline meanwhile picking up a few rocks on the ground while they walk. "Here? Don't remember really but the lake? Always been this way. It's what happens when the entire lake is a glamour pool." He chuckles. "Been that way ever since I could remember. Probably is still that way because of my friend, if she is awake. That, is what these are for." He juggles a few of the rocks while reading a sign they pass, all in Russian that has the United Nations symbol blazoned on it. "Huh. World Heritage site. Well, that makes sense." The UN doesn't screw around with it's natural landmarks. "I remember the lake, but not the town so it's probably new." As they wander through the town and the shoreline, even throughout the city in the taxi cab there were no chimera and no changelings. It was the Autumn World in all its glory until the lake.

Amber is still not taking off her sunglasses or uncovering her ears. She follows after Conrad looking around. "And this is where you grew up? So lucky. It really is gorgeous Conrad. I could stay here and look at it all day." She's not exaggerating. She could probably space out and stare out over the water for as long as she was left alone. She murmurs, "SO how far til we meet this friend of yours?" She asks Conrad curiously. Really she's starting to get caught up in the wonder of it all. And this is why Max is always with her.

Conrad laughs. "Oh no, I wasn't raised here. I was raised more to the north, more toward the Tundra. The only reason why I remember this place is because this is the fastest way to get home. There's a trod along the river that she can Open." He points out to her. "I have no clue where my house is. I just remember this is how to get there." Their trek lasts until everyone is out of sight and mind, or too far to really make a difference. He sets his stuff down. "We're here. My friend -is- the Lake. We just need to be alone. If my memory serves me right, and it might not...she's prone to dramatic entrances." He takes two of the stones, concentrating and then skips them across the water. One from the right hand, and then one from the left hand so that on the third skip they meet, forming an X.

Amber nods a few times, "I see." She smiles brightly. "Well that's certainly interesting. I'm a little dissapointed. I'd love to have stayed around here." She jokes softly. She hadn't even noticed there were people around them but now that there are not she takes a moment to turn into a circle. The Baroness steps to the side watching Conrad toss the stones, "Dramatic? Do I need an umbrella?" She asks curiously with a small smile before looking out over the lake once more.

Conrad doesn't know how to answer that. "Ugh...maybe? Don't remember." He didn't remember THAT part. At first, there is nothing. Then nothing. Then more nothing. Conrad lets out a breath starting to get frustrated as he looks around to make sure people aren't looking just in case a geyser erupts or a tidal wave suddenly emerges. Neither happens, in fact nothing happens. Only after about ten minutes worth of skipping stones in various ways to create an X, including the same time can the clear water reveal a sudden rush of bubbles near where the stones are making an X. The bubbles don't pop, instead piling on top of each other until the top of a woman's head pops out of the water. The distance between them notes her alien nature: Beautiful cream skin like the foam that has massed atop the water. Black hair matted to her face that dangles like seaweed overtop of the water with eyes so black they would give a Sluagh a run for their money. The foam-with-half-a-head floats...and it looks like it is floating rather than swimming toward the shore gazing at the two of them with completely black eyes. When the woman nears the shore, where a human should be able to stand only the half a head is still visible when she speaks to them in a voice that is depressing to listen to yet curiously fluid in it's tone. "....I remember you." Then the head turns toward Ambrosine, the half-head not doing much but staring. "....Who are you?"

The Sidhe is quiet for a moment however she courtseys in a shallow dip, "Hello. Philomène Antionette De LiliJudicaël of House Beaumayn." She has no fear of saying her name or house to someone not of a Sidhe Court. Only the Sidhe Houses really threw in with the Gwydion. She however sees no reason to include her title. It's not important to the Inanimae so she doesn't make an issue of it. She keeps slightly to the side of Conrad, and back, showing that she's 'with' him as guest. Still her eyes and hair/ears remain covered. She's really anal about it.

Conrad gives the lady a smile and a dip. "Lady Olonya." He isn't slang-talking anymore, more a proper Sidhe when the lady exposes herself. She eventually does make it out of the foam, her body sharing the foam's color from head to toe and naked as the day a baby was born. It was rich and full, but being this close to her made the truth all more real of how her skin was nothing more than water. Conrad kicks himself in his head. THAT was the dramatic entrance. He looks to Ambrosine. "Ambi, this is Olonya of Balkai, Crystal Maiden of the Empire of Tears. A comrade from many moons ago."

Olonya closes her eyes slow, and opens them. Her face is shallow and saddened, a natural frown forming on her face and her brows dipped a bit to lazily. It makes her look...well...perpetually sad. She holds her hand up to Conrad, and eyes Ambrosine instead. "Your House is spoken of in the Water. Are you one of the many who has come to perish for a task unable to be fulfilled?"

Conrad rolled his eyes. He completely forgot, Olonya was a seeress. Dammit.

"Not at this time, Lady Olonya." Amber replies quietly. "My death is unseen to me though so perhaps it will happen someday." Any good Seer knows better than to write a fate in stone. But she's not lying. There are some things the fates don't tell her. She stays back where she is hidden away in her own little elf made trappings. She nods towards Conrad, "This is his journey. I am, in this journey, merely Ambi who will be attempting in vain to keep him out of trouble. Olonya eyes Ambrosine for a long time, not giving any hint other than the constant look of sadness on her features that leaves any emotion to the imagination. Then she looks back to Conrad. "Rystar. What do you wish of me?"

Conrad closes his eyes. "I am trying to get back to my old home. Personal matter. I was hoping you would honor us with passage."

Olonya looks between the two of them then speaks again. "Dreams die in the North, Rystar. The dream of this land is now a prison by design of it's peoples, sharing cells with beings that should not be here. I will take you both but be warned. Say yes, and I will not bring you back." Amber watches her but she doesn't seem to have any reaction herself. It must be a seer thing. Instead she continues to watch Olonya and Conrad folding her fingers in front of her. She takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly. Conrad was never good at puzzles. Patterns yes, but the future always pissed him off. He knew there was a warning, but he couldn't see what it was. "I agree to your terms."

Olonya finally twitches her lips, the closest thing the Inanimae probably has to a smile. "So it seems the Polnoch' Uoden continues to fight his war." She looks at Ambrosine for her answer.

Once Conrad has answered she turns her face to Olonya and though her pale skin has become nigh transluscent with the loss of blood from her features and she trembles a moment she nods as well. "I agree." She replies quietly in her ruined voice.

Olonya twitches a lip at Ambrosine. "I wish you the best of luck. It is not what you remember, Polnoch' Uoden." She turns toward the water and holds her hands out. "Take my hands."

Amber brought a duffel for exactly this reason. She pulls it over her shoulder and moves forward to take the offered hand of the Inanimae with an inclination of her head before she looks towards Conrad.

The North Wind, Deep Dreaming

Conrad lets out a breath and adjusts his light armor then takes the Ondine's hand. Then she starts walking, and walking, and walking until she descends under the water. For her, breathing is no problem and as such she keeps walking. The trek takes 20 feet underwater as the lake dips sharply downward, the depths below offer a crystaline view of a coral palace seen only by the eyes of the Fae. Suddenly, it is gone, a rushing current under the water opens to a endless ocean of waters clear as air. Only the hint of the water's purest blue makes one realize they are still underwater. Olonya in this place is merely an outline of herself, nothing more than a collection of water that remains firm and solid in her hands. Once in this...place, the current rush happens again, and lasts for only a few seconds before the three of them are walking out of a pond.

The area is dismal. The forest is dead yet cast a shadow on the snow-covered ground as if they were rich in full summer leaves. The night sky is black as pitch, the many stars of the Dreaming giving enough light to not be blind added by the purple hue of the Eye of Balor. Off in the distance, a shadow from where they were was a wooden structure about three stories tall. Olonya, who had since become solid again after leaving the water, let their hands go. "Remember my words. I shall wait." She then returned to the pond.

The Deep Dreaming has an effect on people. Especially Sidhe.(Double Sidhe Birthright bonuses).

Conrad took his orange sunglasses off, staring off in the distance and around before looking up at the sky. A smile hit his face, a subtle laugh. "I...haha. I remember these stars." Nostalgia for home.

Amber is trembling the whole time but she is without protest. Her head tilts downward and she tries not to think too much about the fact she's under a crushing amount of water. She however seems confident that Conrad wouldn't let her go with someone who'd harm her so she bears it without complaint even when they move from tellurian lake, to dreaming ocean and into the epond of the deep dreaming.

It's now that Amber takes off her glasses and headwrap and sets them into a pocket of her bag. She couldn't hide it away if she wanted to here. The slow miasma of change of red and violet in the dark star in her eyes moves faster now a mirror of the one above only showing hints of it's umbral brother. She is nothing short of radiant here though it can be noticed those wicked silvery scars are complete here. Not faded as the Autumn world. Defniative collar marks, filigreed as if the collar had burned her flesh, also at her wrists an ankles. Otherwise her skin is glowing perfection. Her hair is a long steady flow of moonlit spidersilk that drapes around her perfect delicate features. Still for a sidhe she's only good looking not drop and wet your pants. Here her youth shows more than even in the other world. Like a blossoming bud just blooming and turning it's pale petals towards the sky. Her eyes though are the eyes of an old soul; almost crushed beneath the weight of her visions. Her clothing looks seriously drab. "You don't remember one of them." Her voice is lovely. The voice of a broken angel managing somehow to sound perfect even though it's broken.

She reached a hand to brush Conrad's shoulder. "Let us go quickly. I don't hide well in this place."

Conrad looks up at the purple star and then looks to Ambrosine. "True, but -something- was always supposed to be there." He points out to her. But when she says she can't hide, he scoffs. "Hiding is for wimps." He can feel the cool rush in his veins, the strength returning to his Autumn-infused bones. His heart, gone as it was, did nothing but everything else was just fine.

To those of the Sidhe senses, it is Midnight. It is always Midnight, and never leaves Midnight. The stars are always present and always stoic in their placement. As Conrad moves toward the shadowed tower ahead, the building itself becomes visible. For a Sidhe, it's a hole in the ground. The keep is three stories and built more like a fortified house than a fortress or castle. Wooden staves sharpened to points cross in Xs and other shapes to keep horses at bay. There are no lights on, of course, the building is completely deserted.

"Right." He lets out a breath. "Okay. Collect my belongings, and then we leave." He steps through the door into the darkened keep. Ambrosine says, “Hiding is for the hunted." She corrects softly as she too looks around. The pretty elf in her absolutely ridiculous looking oversized second hand boots and leggings and peacoat trudges along after Conrad. She looks up at the building and her brows knit and her lips purse together but she is still quiet clearly with Conrad on this trip. Her fingers though do search for the fingers of his 'off' sword hand. "You know.”

Ambrosine says, “Hiding is for the hunted." She corrects softly as she too looks around. The pretty elf in her absolutely ridiculous looking oversized second hand boots and leggings and peacoat trudges along after Conrad. She looks up at the building and her brows knit and her lips purse together but she is still quiet clearly with Conrad on this trip. Her fingers though do search for the fingers of his 'off' sword hand. "You know." She quips softly, "This explains so much.” Conrad arches a brow. "Explains what?" He gets his hand held, but he takes it away to pull out his duffelbag. He has no problem seeing Ambrosine as he opens his dufflebag and unzips it, rummaging for something. "You make it sound horrible. I loved it here." He pulls out a piece of flint and steel and kneels down against something.

The Dark Star begins to burn in Ambrosine's gut, lighting like a blazing sun.

Her slender fingers fall to her side as she watches him move. "My point exactly." But her tones is teasing, warm even, there's no malice or serious jeer to her tone. Vibrant glowing violet eyes hood and Amber wraps her arms around herself her brow knitting deeply. However she continues to talk though softer now. "I imagine it was much more homey when you lived here." The last word is almost a whisper.

Conrad shrugs. "Eh. It probably won't be as different." He lights the flint and steel into whatever it was he was striking it into, and the light changes everything.

Nightmare, Deep Dreaming

Ambrosine is in regal noble fineries of deep black and purple hues. All the beautiful and as impressive as she ever was. She was standing in a large audience room, about the size of a very large ballroom. Flanking the walls were floors upon floors of blank doors, ornate in their design yet strong as dragon scales with each door with a nameplate emblazoned on it in words that Ambrosine both recognizes but cant remember what it means. The man before her was tall for a Sidhe, dressed in a deep brown noble vestment that hugged his frail figure. When he stood up and looked to her, his hair was chalk white grizzled with age with a slight growth of a scraggly beard around his lips and dotting his cheeks. He wore a fine, deep red waistcoat underneath with other regalia befitting one of the Dreamlords. Save he was not beautiful. Half of his face was missing, replaced with withered, old bone for a right jawbone, an exposed spinal cord in his neck, and his left hand was nothing but a skeleton. Still, his wrists were clamped with mithril irons, a collar bracing his neck with an almost ornamental chainpiece linking the wrists to the collarbrace that joined together with two leg irons of the same type, connecting them all together in a solid ring of indestructible, gunmetal grey steel. His voice is raspy, but solid. "It is sort of just like home if you ask me." If Ambrosine looks herself over, it is only when she sees the chains on the man in front of her that she feels the tug of the metal against her flesh when she moves one way or another.

Ambrosine says, “I.." She turns her head away a little as the light flares to life allowing her to focus once more on what's in front of her. She takes her time staring at the half man. She blinks and moves as if to bend her head to the vision before her her lips trembling a little and she hardly remembers to breathe, in or out, just frozen there for a moment. She looks back up again after feeling the heavy too failiar weight and a high strained noise escapes her and she tries to move back despite the painful feel. "Lords and Ladies please.." Her voice is a trembling whisper and she tugs at her arms as if she were a marionette uselessly trying to snap the chords that make her alive.”

The man gives Ambrosine a sympathetic look. "I wish they would listen. They stopped listening a long time ago. All of us left here, to rot like maggots and ultimately forgotten for all time." He holds his hand up, the bones frail and fragile-looking in the light. "Some go sooner than others." He slowly stands up from the firepit found at the center of the audience chamber. "Though color me surprised. I'm not used to seeing one of your kind in this wing. What brings you over here? I thought the Beaumayn stuck together?" He brushes his hands suddenly. "I am sorry, where are my manners. I guess I have not seen a Sidhe in some time, I have forgotten my manners." He holds his hand out for a gentleman's shake. "I am Koschei."

Amber is pushing at her wrists but she stares at the man with huge eyes. She shakes her head at him and reaches up to her neck trying to make sure she's not back in her own personal hell. "I don't know. I don't even know how I got here. I cannot be here." She starts taking deep slow breaths trying to calm herself. "Koschei? How did we get here, Kochei?" She's tryhing hard to divest herself of all of it. Of the fine clothing she refuses to wear, of the chains, of everything. Fighting against it like a frightened animal.

Koschei gives her a delicate frown. "You are beginning to forget, to join one of the Lost." He walks over to her, resting his hands on her shoulders and the bones feel brittle against her skin. "You must never forget, why your House is here. It is your only anchor." The sound of a door opening is heard up above. On the third floor hallway overlooking the ballroom three fae dressed in brilliant red armor inlaid with black are dragging out a Sidhe with the trappings of a Gwydion noble. He is hollaring 'WHO AM I!?!' 'WHY DID I GET PUT HERE?!?!' As the armored knights drag him by the feet off into another hallway and away from view, the Gwydion clawing at the floor like a man possessed.

Koschei closes his eyes, letting out a feeble breath. "Never forget." He shakes his head. "None of us are leaving, and it is the only way to remain true. This place hollows you out from the inside until the only thing you know is fear, or rage, or nothing." He walks over to a table in the room with a few ornate chairs and slowly sits down.

Shaking and staring round her watching the newest addition to the cells with fat crystal tears flowing down her lovel cheeks like droplets from that same lake they'd stepped into this place from. "I didn't ask why I asked how. Why is not important and it never was." She gestures to the gwydion wincing at the familiary in those chains. "How we got here though. That is someting that needs an answer." She doesn't shy away from the bones. Indeed she touches the flesh part of the old Sidhe's face gently. She knows the pain can be unbearable. "We'll leave. There will be a time we will leave. One way or another. I simply pray it's not to the Winter." Koschei closes his eyes when she touches his face. His skin is leathery with age, and the warmth, moreso than the gentleness of the touch is what makes him let out a withered breath. "It is the same for everyone. We get called, we appear. Forever removed from our lives." He looked toward where the Gwydion was as an ominous 'THUD' is heard as the door to the Gwydion's cell closed, forever to remain so.

A bell is heard from somewhere. Koschei's eyes go wild. "Hurry, you must return to your cell before they find you. Go go. We shall talk later." He then gets up from the chair to hurry toward a staircase, probably racing for his cell.

Amber shakes her head watching him go but she doesn't hurry away. "I'll die first before going back to it.." First fo all she's a Sidhe and fuck if she's going to stay in a filthy dungeon. Even in captivity the Beaumayne House was treated 'well' by prisoners stanards. She turns to face whatevers coming her tiny slender hands balled into fists and looking ready to make them take her back.

The bell continues to toll, and then it stops. The audience room becomes almost deafeningly quiet after the last door is heard closing, along with the fizzure of glamour that erupts across the Prison re-sealing the prisoners in their rooms. It only takes a moment for the glamour to receed for three fae, dressed in the same armors as the others enter the ballroom. Seeing Ambrosine one of them begins to unwrap a chain wrapped around his waist. "Lady. Come with us or you will be disciplined for your insolence." Their words carry a weight unknown to Ambrosine. Certainty and truth with the power of the dreaming to back up their claims. "Do not resist." One of the Sidhe, the one with the hook attached to a chain begins to approach her.

Amber looks at the chains and she shakes her head and looks back at them. "No. No I wont. I will. not. go. back. to. it. I wont." She's terrified, truely, but the crushing weight of imprisonment; of madness is too much to bear again. She puts her hands down in front of her balling them up. She has no weapon but her chains but she intends to fight that cell. There are some burdens she's willing to take but she really would rather die than go back to that..

And so she gathers her glamour up around her, all the painful memories of the past, all the spots that aren't blanked out by spells or the monotony of an Arcadian eternity in chains. And she launches herself like an ineffective if terrifying little hellcat at the nearest guard.

The Dragon's Ire is summoned, and the full might of the Sidhe puts the guards at full alert and attention. Even a disarmed and disabled sidhe pulling the strength of their power into their body is a force to be wary of. They are quick to get on her, though one guard gets clocked head on in the helmet by Ambrosine's fist before suddenly everything goes black.

She awakens in her room, and it is as if she lived in a five-star hotel. A Queen sized bed with proper colors denoting house, an armoire cabinet, a washroom, and a window that no force can break that looks out into a blank fog. The walls are thick and unbreakable, the door won't even budge. A tinkling bell jangles and a full course meal is found on the table complete with elegantly designed silverware, a small glass of water and a goblet of wine. No one comes to the door, and no one talks to her.

It is like this, for 3 years. The day begins with a plate full of breakfast, a small glass of water and milk. Then comes an hour outside the cell with the coming of the bell. The tinkling bell for a full lunch, another bell for another hour outside the cell, the last tinkling bell for dinner and then she is left to her own devices for the evening. Everytime she resists, the guards put her down. After the upteenth time, they begin to take her to the Pit for 'censure', employing torture the likes of which humans wish they could invent. Each day gets more gloomy, more dark, more hopeless.

She doesn't ever give up. But eventually it all gets too much and she starts writing her visions encoded however she can. She eats what it takes to keep her alive and each day she tries to find a new way to escape. Even when she's tourtured (Some of which the poor Guards will find she enjoys -- her previous captor was a madman). Thankfully her voilence is laughable. She learns some tricks of course but never anything that truely helps her. She throws herself into trying to get away and into writing her coded preditions. Always switching it and sometimes writing it on different pages. The visions keep her going; where others find a prison in their head she finds it a freedom. A sign that things are still a war outside and not just mop up. Even after three years beteen and broken she fights them; even if she cannot do it so well. She always fights in dirty little ways that make it worthwhile. Making them search for the silverware. Loosing her clothing during outtings. Everything. Even writing on the walls. She no longer has her training to keep her from despair and madness like so many of the others in her house so this is how she keeps ehrself sane. By being Mina the Brat.

Ambrosine is just lucky the folks at home can't see her.

Some exploits earn her more time in 'censure', others do not. Time ticks by as if an eternity is passing. Finally, sometime within the fourth year there is a knock on her door. It means that a guard is a delivering a message, as prisoners are allowed to receive comminique's from other prisoners. Some use for prison love, or playing games and trading moves by paper. The guards always scope them, sometimes Ambrosine would get a letter from a looker from afar that writes as if a token of some kind is with it. There never is. Save this time.

Letters typically appear like food, on the table in a sudden appearance without fanfare and the seal is always broken suggesting someone has read it. This time however, the letter is forcibly pushed under the door as something grinds against the top of the door and then the sound of footsteps hurries off elsewhere in the complex. Ever dutiful; Amber writes those who write her back. Simple elegant but vary rarely anything worth reading at all. Always rebuffing any attempts at romance for simple friendship and affection. She will not lie. Even in here.

When the letter arrives she moves over to the door, out of the ay should it open and snatches up the letter. She looks around and then opens it to scan it quickly before she'll tuck it away for more serious consideration after any potential snooping guards come by. She opens the letter, which in truth acts more like a parcel. When she quickly scans it something like a very small oval-shaped pearl falls into her hand, but the letter is left behind for later. Guards do make rounds, but they are patrolling rounds, not inspections. After the footsteps vanish she can read the letter without worry.

“Lady,

I apologize for no formality, but I have forgotten your name. Everything is becoming dark, hazy and I find myself lost. In truth the concerted effort to write this letter is taking it's toll on me.

My time is growing short, but there is hope for you. The day is coming for the Quarterlies, and it was told my block was selected.' The Quarterlies, which she has heard about is a time of festivities in prison. Because in one randomly selected cell-block, one inmate has the chance to be released of their punishment to return. 'If I get selected, I wish to give you my chance to escape. Even if I get selected, I will perish only in a short few months, mayhap aa year at best. You still Remember, are still full of life.

All I ask is you take this token with you. I do not remember why I have it, but something tells me that it belongs in the ocean, a promise I believe, I made to something or someone long ago. That is all I ask, so at least one thing in this prison will have turned for betterment than for Autumn.

If not, return the token to me in our wing's audience room at midday's lounge (the term used to describe 'free time'). No words will be needed, lest the guards attempt to force the rules to change by the Lord Baron.

May the Dreaming light your way, Koschei”

Amber blinks and reads the script a few times. She frowns a little and rolls the little pearl in her hand. She reads the letter again and sits down for a moment taking a deep breath. She sits there for a long while staring off into space and feeling rather like the world is blank for a moment until she looks down at the pearl again. She folds the letter up and tucks it away with the others so it wont be in a suspicious place. The pearl itself gets hidden away in shoe. Sure it's not comfortable but it's better uncomfortable than found. With that she takes her sleep as she normally doe and continues with her 'routine' including giving the guards a hard time. She spends time thinking of how to get people out but in the end she is no miltary stratigist. At best she might get one or two stronger sidhe out. However she does find a way to leave itty bitty things behind. Small intimate foci incase she ever can escape and then come back and destroy this place.

Ambrosine lays her tricks and her traps, reminding herself of this place and giving herself markers to remember what happened here. Three days pass, celebrations and festivities occur within free time. Even if they have no chance, they celebrate somewhat. Someone is going to get out. That is important to them and so they celebrate to refuel themselves with what glamour can come from the soul imagining it free. It is morning on the third day, and without warning there is a loud banging on her door. No tinkling bell. No food. The voice is entrancing to listen to. "Step away from the door and connect your chain to the provided clasp please." Like everything else, a bulky chain with a clasp on the end becomes lodged in the table.

Amber walks over to the clasp but she isn't going to start obeying everything they say now. She just stares at the door with her chin up and her brows are drawn down. But the knock and the tone has in the very least not got her throwing things at the door.

A burst of glamour, and the guards enter followed in their wake by a person who the appearance stat doesn't have numbers for. Raw power eminates from him like a waterfall contains water. He is Sidhe...ish, but more than a Sidhe in many ways. He is dressed in the same colors as the guards, all noble fineries and vestments of ruby and black colors. When he enters, his walk is a slow pace as he eyes the room, the stacks of papers and parchments. He notices the clasp unhinged, and smiles. "My Lady, I am no guard." He snaps his fingers, and the clasp suddenly clamps to the circular brass ring of her chains. Then he begins to peruse her room, fingering through letters as if this was his personal chambers. "Today, happens to be your lucky day Lady. The Quarterlies is over, and it seems your half-damned friend has beckoned your release." He turns to look at her, his eyes a swirl of the purest colors you have ever seen. "I must ask praytell, for curiosity so always gets the best of us...why you?"

Amber steps back at the power and her chin lifts up a little when the chain is raised to the clasp. She is, however, nice enough not to fight against someone who clearly has title. Her glittering eyes watch the darkly dressed man her lips pressed into a thin line. She's quiet for a long moment before replying, "If what I was told is correct it's because I have so much life to live." The raspy Sidhe's voice replies. "Or maybe he just wanted me to stop making the guards grumpy." Her first guess is truer than her last but they're both equally thoughtful. She moves away from the Lord and tries to fold her shackled arms over her middle.

The man slowly nods. "I see. You such a life to live." He slides a paper from the stack, opening it gently and looking it over. "A dark blue sky, a purple fire burns as rocks crash across mountains of snow and ice, a splash of blood and a woman's scream." He eyes her. "Such is your life, contained herewithin these cherished pages of yours?" He gently folds the paper and slides it back where it went to. "What sort of life is such, if I may ask? To grasp at straws when naught any exist? A spark of the mind, leading one to insanity?" He eyes her. "Well, it is your lucky day for I am in a good mood. I have asked about you, apparently one who has smitten so many yet refused all in turn." He pats the stack of papers. "Your items of station shall be returned to you. Please settle your affairs within a half hour and be down in your (her wing's) communal chambers within ten minutes, lest I be led to believe that you believe that thine is worthy of such righteous punishment and require more before being cleansed of ill intent." He gives her a dip worthy of status, an equal dip in light, and then departs followed by the guards. The door remains open yet her chains suddenly break open, clamoring down onto the ground with a thick racket.

She returns the dip and waits for him to leave before she swiftly gets to work. Her affairs in order consist, simply, burning everything in the fireplace. Yes. Her many jumbled and confused writings and even the letters All but one. In three years the young elven face hasn't seemed to age more than six months. Such is the way of eternal youth. When she's completed the task, quickly, she makes her way down towards the cell fo the man who'd set her free. The less horrid visions less encoded and written inside a little thank you. She is no good at goodbyes and so she flees quickly to make it to the pumpkin before the stroke of midnight. You find his room, which you can figure out by how many times he has bolted toward it and slip it under his door and walk on. Reaching your old wing the man is standing there simply waiting and when you arrive, he gives you a smirk. "Ah. You made it. I was beginning to wonder if the Quarterlies were going to have no celebrations. When she reaches him, the man approaches her and gives her a dip, followed by resting his hands on her upper biceps with a grip. "My sweet lady."

The North Wind, Deep Dreaming

A sudden slap hits Ambrosine's face.

"I swear to god, if you've been off to la-la-land I swear to the Dreaming I will toss your ass in the nearest stream." Conrad is shaking her, after having slapped her. He is coated in blood, his hair is a blooded mess and he is dressed in shimmering black armor lined with gold around the oval plates. Etchings of a sun adorn certain circles, and all the plates have a soft underline of fur to keep him warm.

He's walking towards her and this makes the Beaumayne step back and her eyes widen. She is about to bot when his hands take ahold of her arms and she protests, "Please.."

OUCH....

Amber's brows lift and she takes in a breath of air that feels for all it's worth like the sweetest air ever. Only the second sweetest she's ever tasted. And then Connor's shaking her and she hiccups a little, groping at his face and hair to be sure it's real even taking a moment to ken him and then, if Conrad is his real name, she throws herself into Conrad wrapping him into a hug and letting out a relieved sob.

Conrad gets accosted. He should save unconscious Sidhe more often. "It's...it's okay." He pats her on the back, brushing at her back. He looks her over. "What happened?" Amber shakes her head at Conrad, "Later." She murmurs quietly. She pretty much forces him to hold her unless like something evil shows up; or rather something else. She does eventually pull away and then blinks at him checking him for wounds. "You're okay?"

Conrad nods. "Ten fingers, ten toes and a whole lot of blood that isn't mine. Besides that I feel like shit and I am tired." He slowly gets on his feet, picking her up piggyback style and carrying her. "After you dropped I saw a whole bunch of weird stuff, by the time I came to there were Thallain incoming. I took care of them all, but...some of them were more difficult than others." His walk is at a limp. "But no stress! No pain, no gain."

Amber feels the limp and squirms, "No. Let me down. I'm okay to walk on my own and you need to be free if something else comes up." She pats his shoulder and walks along with him. She's quiet and makes sure she stays near him though once she's let off. Her fingers find his off hand again as she moves along with him. The two of them eventually breach land, hitting a frozen shoreline to blue, still ocean. "Dammit." He groans, leaning down to catch his breath. "I've been at this hike for three stinking days! I can't find the damn lake!" He grumbles, kicking a batch of snow in the water and thus making him hiss in pain. He sets his sword on the ground to lean on it as he catches his breath. He looks behind him, the now open sky where there is no more keep. His face looks lost, but he closes his eyes and swallows it. He won't deal with it right now.

Amber touches his shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up really fast. You smell so strongly of blood I don't think a predator would have a hard time finding out. While the rugged look suits you I think for the moment getting a look at your physical wounds will be helpful.

Conrad eyes her for a while, then nods. "Fine." He begins to unstrap his armor, which he doesn't want to. He just got comfy in them! And it made him feel more whole than anything else. It takes about five minutes to unstrap everything, leaving him in thin cloth clothing made to wear with the armor. The plates provided ample amounts of protection, but various puncture marks were made where there are chinks in the armor as it were (Wounded). As Ambrosine settles in, the feeling of the pearl rubbing against her foot is still felt.

She feels it. She knows it's there. But for the moment she does a quick check over of Conrads wounds and using one of her shirts from her bag she cleans the blood off him. She's still not smiling and she's still not all there. She's still thrown because it had all been too real. But she's used to too much time spanning in what seems like moments. "Thank you for looking out for me." She wipes some of the blood away from his forehead and meets his eyes for a moment before pulling away. She's very thorough in her inspection of him before making sure the gunk os cleaned from his armor, well the chunks anyway, and then if he wishes will help him back into it. Everything is done with her expression distant and in deep and troubled thought.

Conrad takes the help, now all bandaged and no longer bleeding. He fits back into his armor and when everything is strapped back into place he gives a rolling shrug. "Alright. I am good to go for another few hours before breaktime." He looks around and tries to get his bearings. He doesn't remember this, not like he remembered his keep, how he could find weapons by reflex. He let out a breath and looked toward the sky to get his bearings. "...Okay, now that I am not on the run from hungry hungry hippos now." Takes a moment then points his finger in various places before he says "We need to go this way." He sheathes his sword and begins to walk, not bothering to say your welcome for protecting her. It's not that he's mad, he's distracted and off sorts too.

Ambrosine touches his shoulder. She bends to slip off her boot and tips it so the pearl comes out. Boot back on she rolls the pearl and shudders and her withdrawn state doubles. She rolls the pearl in her hand and moves over towards the ocean and squeezes the pearl in her hand before throwing it out into the water.

Conrad was walking off, only to realize that Ambrosine wasn't following him. When he turned around to look, she tossed the pearl in the water and furrowed his brows. "What was that?"

Ambrosine turns back to Conrad to trudge after him. "A last wish." She murmurs softly before joining him back on the trail. Once more reaching for his off hand and starts to walk with the poor beaten Varich but keeps her eyes and face turned away to hide the tears as he leads the way.

Conrad arches a brow. "A last wish?...Okay." He shakes his head, moving on. It is another 3 hours of hiking with one break before they get back to the lake, where Oloya waits for them on a rock. Seeing Conrad battered and bruises makes nothing seem out of the ordinary. Ambrosine however gets a quirk of the eye. The pale sidhe does, at some point, tell Conrad she'll tell him later after a warm bath and a cup of tea. But she's still processing everything. When they arrive Amber stands quietly waiting for Conrad to negotiate their trip back.

Conrad lets out a breath. "Well! We're back. All...sort of safe and sound. We're ready to go back now."

Oloya eyes Conrad and Ambrosine. "One of you accepted a bargain. I can smell -him- on you."

Conrad furrows his brows. "I was offered power to restore me to my place of power, and I said no, and got swarmed by Thallian and managed to escape....for a time." He then looks to Ambrosine.

Ambrosine tilts her head and shakes her head a little in confusion. She's exsausted. She has no right to be so she is so she sits down and puts her face in her hands. "I don't even know." She admits. "I probably did. Thats what I get for trusting I suppose. Go back Conrad." She's confused; this is part and parcel of Amber. She gets confused so easily especially when she's in severe mental distress.

Conrad arches a brow at Ambrosine. "Wait wait hold up. -Who-, are you smelling exactly?"

Oloya eyes Conrad, her face still depressed. "Koschei."

Conrad purses his lips, then his eyes go wide. "Wait...you mean...Koschei, Koschei?

Oloya nods.

Conrad looks as if he is wearing a dunce cap, then looks at Ambrosine. "Was there a guy, who looked like a half-emaciated corpse?" Ambrosine rubs her forehead and nods. She doesn't really speak right now instead she curls up. She's not self pitying; she's peeved. Not at anyne else but at herself. Conrad lets out a breath. It's times like this Conrad would be angry, but then again...he had completely forgotten about the guy until Oloya said his name. "Okay. Nobody panic." He clucks his tongue. He's trying not to panic. "Nooobody panic." He then just sits down on the ground. "Maybe it's not as bad as we think! What did you do? Was it the thingy you tossed in the water?"

Ambrosine winces and looks over at Oloya and then back down. "Maybe I ought to start from the begining?

Oloya blinked, then spoke. "Start where you like."

Ambrosine isnt going to repete the whole goshdarn story to someone who just told it to her!

So instead she recaps. 

The beaumayne, who really wishes she had a wall to smack her head against right now, tells it from the moment that the light came up from Conrad. She tells a fairly detailed version though she does leave out some of the more gruesome bits in favor of the one word explination. But Conrad knows some of what she's gone through so she figures at least he gets it. SHe's pretty much beating herself up and at the end she aplogizes again, and once more to Conrad for forgetting what he's been trying to tell her.

Conrad is silent after she finishes. "...Okay. Sounds like Koschei." He looks to Oloya. "Does that mean anything to you? The whole...pebble thing."

Oloya blinks and then speaks. "Koschei is bound here to this land, much as most creatures still are since the erection of the Autumn Veil and cannot leave. Unlike his fellow Fomorians, he has sidestepped his imprisonment due to his powers of magic. A part of him exists in the world of the real, and as such only his body is imprisoned. A sliver of him is free, and by tossing the pebble given by him off the land, a part of him is now past the Autumn Veil, able to move where he will. You should know this." She eyes Conrad. "You fought him plenty of times."

Conrad grunts. "So. Fomorian fiend-"

"Archduke." Oloya responds.

Conrad just sort of dies a little inside. "Archduke. Sliver of him though? Not the full package?"

Oloya blinks. "A sliver is enough for Koschei to possess a body and return to the world." It's amazing how small one little Sidhe can get. It really is. It's pretty heartrending; not that they can see it. She's helped a fomorian and therefore has twofold betrayed her house and the oaths her family makes. "I need to go to New Orleans, Sir Conrad. I will need to face a council about this." Her voice is quiet but firm. "If I make it back."

Conrad holds his hand up. "No. No no. You ain't doing anything." He looks back to Oloya. "Is there a way we can sort of undo this? You know, bring the pebble back to land? Cut him off at the pass so to speak? It's only been off ground for what...3 hours?" He looks at Ambrosine. "We still have a whole 3 days here. We get the pebble, bring it back and then destroy it. That would cut off his potential right?"

Oloya responds. "Yes. That would mean you would have to return into your homeland, as you have seen the current condition it is in. You are also now hunted by Thallain. Do you believe you can cover the ground you have, retrieve the pebble, return to ground and be able to destroy it before either Koschei or Thallain find you?"

Conrad looks at Ambrosine then back to Oloya. "Damned if we do, damned if we don't right?"

He looks to Ambosine. "Right?"

Ambrosine says, “Certainly, it should be simple to find a pearl in the sea." There, a dark hint of something, well.. it's not sweet Seelie Ambi that's for certain. "You're not damned in this, Conrad." She stands up brushing herself off. "I am though. You know I will not turn you away but I will not ask you to come with me if you wish to return home." She looks up at him and then pulls her bag over her shoulder. "If we cannot find the pearl I will be lucky to die here. It will be the kinder punishment for my naievety." She looks to Oloya and nods to the Lady of the water and inclines her head. "Thank you."”

Conrad smiles. "See? Your better already." He taps Ambrosine on the shoulder. "Me? Of course I'll go. I mean...I may be beat up, but I can still trash a thallain or two. Otherwise how else am I to impress you with my slick skills for when the time comes you ask me to beat things?" He slowly gets on his feet.

Oloya eyes the both of them. "You have friends amidst the wood, if one has the eyes to see them. Light footsteps, and should you lose your path, follow the ruby carpet." Conrad looks at Ambrosine, and like his nature, fistpumps himself. "Duh duh duh duuuuuh! Quest time." Conrad is a secret video gamer, leave him alone.

Conrads words get no reply from Amber. Sure the mental fucking had given her quite the traumatic event but betraying the tenants of her own House? That's a different matter. What may be subtle changes in the Autumn world bleed through in magnificent color in this world. "No doubt, Conrad, you'll find a way to impress me." She can't hide it so she makes no attempt to though her face is a ridgid mask. White hair, lovely and snowfall in moonlight pale bleeds to an inky tenebrous blue-black and her eyes find their dominate color in red rather than violet though they are still those acpocalyptic stars. She still looks and sounds like Amber but the closed offness? Not so much. "Thank you, Lady Oloya, fair seas to you should our paths not cross again."

Conrad does another fistbump when she says she will find a way to impress him. "Awesome." He gets back up, setting himself upright. "Well, let's get crackin'. The sooner we get that pearl the better off we're all gonna be." Conrad is ready to go.

Oloya remains sitting on the water of the small pond. "I will go nowhere. Should your task succeed, one will needs take you home. For one to admit fault, and seek to rectify you do far better than others." And they are off!

Ambrosine has disconnected.

Cast of Characters

Ambrosine

Seelie Beaumayn Sidhe. Accompanied Conrad so he did not have to travel such distances alone. A friend.

Conrad

Unseelie Varich Sidhe. Returned home to search/collect lost articles from his old home.

Olonya

Ondine Inanimae, resident of Lake Balkai, known as the Crystal Maiden amongst the Empire of Tears. Old companion of Conrads, to what extent is unknown.

Koschei

Fomorian Archduke, also known as Koschei the Undying. Archmagus of fae magic, rumored to only have his body captured by Tuatha, his soul still runs free yet is bound to the dreams of Russia unable to leave. Ambrosine tossing the token into the water broke this fact.