NationStates Jolt Archive

King Frederick ap Eiluned ruled the best educated kingdom in all of the Resurgent Dream, Bilbtoria. Frederick encouraged this reputation as best he could, keeping a vast library in his palace and patronizing researchers and scholars of all kinds. Still, something was bugging him, something he knew little about. Conjecture was wearing thin. What were these elves of which he kept hearing? He knew on a superficial level, of course. The largest and most powerful of the elven races were an associated group of races, the Sindar, the Noldor, and similar groupings. He also knew that there was a smattering of other elven races throughout the world. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that his own sidhe heritage must connect with them in some way. The common features of pointed ears and alabaster skin seemed a dead give away, as did the immortal lives. Shaking his head, Frederick decided to act upon his curiosity. He rang the bell for his secretary.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" said the plump boggan as he poked his head through the door.

A smile touched the king's lips. "Send word to the scholars of the elven nations. I would like them to meet with our own thinkers to research any possible connection of blood."

Ferranifer left her and Laura's office with the King's missive in hand and went to the situation room. "Can you believe this?" she asked Arleena as she dropped the invitation on her desk.

Arleena picked it up and read it over. "What does this have to do with our current situation?"

"Nothing", Ferranifer replied, "but this sort of thing is not in my realm of work. THIS, however", she said pointing to the sheet of paper, "is part of my work area as a former teacher."

"Teacher", Arleena snorted, "You taught necromancy in a school for the dark arts and studied torture methodology. I think you have the record for humans. Thirty days of torture before finally expiring has got to be the most yet."

"That was before and you know it. This king doesn't even know his origin and though, yes, I taught necromancy, I was still a teacher."

"Well I'm not sure what the problem is here. Sidhe are related to elves, so what?"

"They aren't, that's just it. The Sidhe were the first race, even before elves. They were believed to be perfect. Unfortunetly they believed themselves perfect and therefore got very haughty, even going so far as to believe that they rivaled the gods themselves. THIS of course didn't sit well with the gods and they were punished. Most of them were turned into ogres, the exact opposite of the Sidhe and the rest were left to consider thier arrogance." Ferranifer picked up the missive and then looked back at Arleena. "It seems they forgot thier lesson."

"Well", Arleena said in a light tone, "why don't you just slip over there and tell the king that he's an ogre decendent. I'm sure he'll be very responsive to your observation."

Ferranifer just glared at Arleena. "You know how much people like the truth."

"People love the truth", Arleena replied, "and if they don't then they create thier own truth that's more to thier liking."

"Well I think I'll go to this. The courtship dinner was a disaster and we need to bring ourselves to the attention of other nations. If' I'm needed I can teleport back."

"And you propose to tell this king the truth?" Arleena asked amused.

"I can sugar coat it. After all the Sidhe were the first race. The elven race was created to fill the void created by thier downfall. And it didn't succeed if you ask me. Elves can be extremely haughty."

"So why weren't they punished like the Sidhe?" Arleena asked in a nasty tone.

"How do I know the minds of gods, I'm not even liked by most of them."

"Well at least some of them have taste", Arleena quipped.

Ferranifer turned, ignoring Arleena's taunts and not daining to lower herself to that level. She left Laura a note that she would be attending a conference and to contact her if she was needed for anything, since she was of little use in matters such as war or investigations. 'I could help with investigations', she thought, 'But Laura wouldn't like the methods.' That done she stepped into her workroom and through scrys and spirits information created a portal near the location the kings palace and walked the rest of the way to the place, observing the lands around her.

The palace is set in the center of stone city, full of bookshops, printers, binders, and the like, as well as the compliment of artisans making up any city at the Resurgent Dream's average level of technology. One more modern building houses an electrical plant and a television broadcast station, Frederick's one concession to modernity. Troll guards walk the streets every now and again but the great bulk of foot traffic is human. Two trolls look to Ferranifer as she arrives, one speaking. "You have business with His Majesty?"

The human looking woman presented the invitation to the troll guard. "Dragonsreach is responding to the missive for scholars to assemble. I come on behalf of Queen Silverlief for the gathering. There are no instructions on where to meet and so I humbly present myself before the gates of his royal majesty."

The troll looks over the invitation, nodding. "We were not expecting your arrival so soon. Enter."

The gates are opened for Ferranifer to enter the grand hall, done up in High Rennaissance style, with a ceiling rising four stories up and balconies at each level. A small boggan scurries up to Ferranifer. "Do you have any luggage, ma'am?"

Ferranifer eyed the creature curiously, never having seen one. She wondered what the pain tolerance would be then shook her head. "None", she said, "I was hoping to enjoy the shops of your wonderful city and perhaps try some native clothing."

Smiling, the boggan nods. "Shall I show you to your room first, ma'am?"

With the an unerring accuracy, Mick Lakely, Iuthia’s foreign minister, blasted the shuttlecock down into the well kept lawn beside the Lord Generals feet, making the man cringe as he lost another point to the younger man.

It was a nice afternoon in Iuthia Prima and so far the weather was holding out beautifully for the crowded city, as not a single cloud could be seen in the sky. The two good friends had been playing badminton for the majority of the afternoon and so far James deGritz had only half the score of Mick, who was doing as well as he ever did against James in this sport. The courts of James deGritz’s mansion were carefully looked after by the many caretakers of the grounds and it’s bounce was perfect for a number of sports… but James quite liked Badminton because many assumed it was a slow sport when in actual fact it would take a lot of energy out of him, especially as Mick belted the light shuttlecock with a nasty flick of the wrist.

Mick was a younger man then James, which occasionally proved to be something of an advantage to the man when competing against the Lord General in these games they played. However, his hair was greying like James’s hair once had, whose was now a sagely grey, though it had to be said that James had retained much of his good looks through exercise and keeping busy, even at fifty people could see why Liessa, his fiancée, was interested in him (besides his power).

James pulled Mick aside from the game for a rest, though Mick couldn’t resist a comment.

“I’ll take it easy on you next time old friend.” He commented with a sly smile. James laughed and shuck his head for a moment before moving on to business.

“I wouldn’t brag if I were you, your slowing down yourself, I’m catching up with you slowly.” Before Mick could retort, James came across a little more serious as he changed the subject. “So, I here that the lovely people of The Resurgent Dream are interested in learning more about the history of our elves? I don’t suppose there is anyone you have in mind to send to their nation for this meeting they are planning?”

“Well Sir, considering the subject, my first impression was to send Scientist General, Kristine Kale, as she one of the most accomplished scientists this nation has to offer.” Mick then sighed. “However, due to the fact this is a conference about elves and their heritage I feel that a elven scientist would be more advisable to seem more involved in the elven issue. What’s more I have found that there are a few elven scientists whose work encompasses elven lineage who would be more suitable. Dr. Saemus Benton seems to have the most solid information.”

“Very well, inform them that we will be sending a representative to this meeting when the time comes, make a point of sending a diplomat while were at it, it’s as gooder time as any.”

King Frederick looked up as a servant entered. handing him a piece of paper. "Hmm...DragonsReach has sent a woman who seems to be human. Odd, considering that they are a nation rules by elves. And Iuthia desires to send a scholar as well? All good. Send word for our guests to begin arriving. We will begin work first thing tomorrow morning." Bowing, the servant headed out to carry out his orders.

The reply from the Resurgent Dream had been swift and to the point; Iuthia's guest had been accepted and the conference would start the next day, leaving the scientist The reply from the Resurgent Dream had been swift and to the point; Iuthia's guest had been accepted and the conference would start the next day. Thankfully they had made a point of having the man prepared before they replied to the first request of scholars so he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

It wasn’t long before Doctor Seamus Benton and Iuthian Ambassador, Joanna Torvek were being flown to the nation by private jet. The doctor making a point of looking through his notes against in preparation and Joanna doing the same with her diplomatic details and intelligence reports. The doctor himself was a fairly short person, most Iuthian elves were considered short by most as their height averaged around 5ft. Besides that he was a young man for his species, only 130 years in age but he used his naturally long life to get an advantage over other scientists who would be growing older at a faster rate. His hair was an autumn red and his skin pale despite the warm climate of Iuthia. His choice of clothing made him look rather like a college teacher, with the clichéd leather elbows on a tweed jacket.

Meanwhile, his diplomatic friend wore a simple black dress which had become something of a fashion with Iuthia’s freelance ambassadors; it was their job to make contact with nations who had no official embassy with Iuthia. Joanna was a fair bit taller then her scientist counterpart who was only about 5’1” tall. She was around 5’8”.

The fairly dull, but it served the purpose of allowing them to catch up on their notes. Without ceremony they landed in the airport to prepare for the following days meeting.

Two trolls walk across the field to greet the new arrivals. That's honestly all the "airport" really is. It's a farmers field temporarily converted to a landing strip for the use of foreign visitors. Natives of Bilbtoria did not use air planes and most had never seen one. The trolls, nine foot tall blue warriors, incline their heads as they arrive. One of them smiles lightly, lifting a hand to help Joanne down from the plane as he speaks to both. "Welcome, guests. You are both awaited at the palace." The other troll takes the luggage from the plane, carrying all of it easily.

The Blue SciCoordinator idly taps the ends of the slender antennae extending from her bulbous braincase together as she looks over the missive from the diplomatic excursion to the Dominion. A question of uncertain origins, not of evolution nor any variation of the playfully amusing stories of "creation" like that common among the pointed-aural-organed endoskeletals of Eärendil? Most curious indeed.

She turns easily in the zero-gravity of S-14's bridge and prepares to send a transmission to the Resurgent Dream, and finds that there's no registered place to send it to. Another slow tap of her antennae, now more signatory of confusion than a quiet pause of thought.

"Alpha, run a cross-referenced index check, term 'the Resurgent Dream' and related term 'King Frederick.' I need a degrees-of-separation determination based on alliance ties and diplomatic connections." She speaks in nothing even vaguely resembling any human language, a collection of clicks, clacks, maxillae movements, gestures, scents, and radio transmissions.

The bluish ghost-like insectoid on the screen circles its antennae in acknowledgement, speaking via the colony vessel's public address system--such that it is, covering just as many mediums as the SciCoordinator's. "Understood. Running analysis now... registering two degrees of separation. The Menelmacari foreign service reports a missive from subject 'King Frederick ap Eiluned' of 'Bilbtoria,' subset of desired term 'the Resurgent Dream.'"

"Outstanding. Please send a missive to the viceroy of Menelmacari Eärendil requesting to forward this message to King Fredereck ap Eiluned of Bilbtoria."

"Understood."

* - * - *

King Frederick ap Eiluned of Bilbtoria:

We were informed during the recent coronation in the Dominion of Dread Lady Nathicana that you are trying to learn more about your history. Archaeology and history have always fascinated us and we are interested in possibly assisting. We have performed digs in the ICEL, previously known as EOTED, and have extensive experience in archiving data thanks to our own fragmented history.

If it is acceptable to you, we would like to help. Please send a reply via the same means that you received this message at your earliest convenience.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/s14/blue2.jpg
SciCoordinator 50945 of the Blue Mother of Us All
Speaking on behalf of the Mothers of Us All
The panNorm

King Frederick returns a missive via the same channels.

We have heard little of your people. However, it does please us to hear that Princess Agwene seem to be getting along well with them. Your participation in this investigation would be welcome.
-King Frederick ap Eiluned.

Ferranifer nodded at being led to her room. "If you could tell me how to get to the shops that would be wonderful." she said as she set down her backpack which clanked as she did so. "I would desperatiley need some clothes. I hope I'm not too early, the guard seemed to indicate that I came sooner than expected."

Finally the plane landed in a converted field for their runaway, coming to a smooth stop the pilot announced their arrival in Bilbtoria. The two Iuthian representatives packed away their laptops and got hold of the few items they brought with them for the flight; the rest would be picked up later from the cargo hold.

When Joanna opened the door for Dr. Benton both of them grasped at the large, blue hands placed before them. Saemus looked towards his companion and gave her a funny look before meakly steping onto the makeshift platform.

Gently the troll brought the man down to ground level, occasionally he almost fell over as it wasn't perfect, but the troll was careful enough and didn't drop the man. Once he was safely on the ground, Saemus beheld the wonder that was this large gentle giant, stories from other nations (as Iuthia didn't have such imaginative tales) suggested that such creatures would be violent and brutish... but this being came across well and took care to get him down without injury.

Joanna followed the doctor in the same manner; taking her time to trust the troll but eventually summoning up the courage to do so. Once she got on the ground the gentle gaint spoke to them in a slow monotone voice.

"Welcome, guests. You are both awaited at the palace." He said politely.

The two of them nodded and gave the being time to collect their luggage before it led them to the palace grounds.

The walk took around half an hour as they reached the quaint stone city in which the palace dominated the skyline. The people here were mostly human, like in Iuthia, and they seemed nice enough though they kept themselves to themselves as the lumbering troll took them to the palace. Occasionally the two Iuthian's noticed other troll guards, proving further that these creatures were trusted with the law of this city. Before long they reached the castle and the gates of the palace itself.

The boggan nods to Ferranifer after showing her to her elegantly appointed Victorian room. "There is a seamstress on main street. It's hard to miss her shop, ma'am. Do you need a carriage?"

The Iuthians are led into the palace and to similar, separate room. The trolls carry their luggage for them and each troll asks the guest he is with. "Do you require anything at the moment, m'lord/ma'am?"

Ferranifer smiled at the boggan, "That would wonderful", she said and looked around the room, "and the room lovely." She withdrew several dark green wine bottles from her backpack and slid them under the bed. "Have to keep them out of sunlight", she explained as she brushed and straightened her teal colored gown, "well that carriage would be terrific", she said, unless I am expected to report in somewhere first?"

As she spoke she ran a brush that looked like a skeletal hand through her reddish brown hair, her hazel colored eyes looking at the boggin politely. The pale skin was washed with the light from the windows as she stood waiting to see what she was expected to do.

The two Iuthian guests took the moment that the draw bridge was lowered to look at the palace from the outside and admire its construction. It was a beautifully tall building which seemed like it belonged in a fairy-tail then in the real world; it truly was a sight to behold, fit for a king indeed. The two representatives of Iuthia had come from a background where practicality was favoured over the aesthetic values of a building; never the less they appreciated the structure.

The insides of the building proved to be just as well looked after as the outside appearance, it was surprisingly comfortable looking despite what you would expect from such a place.

The helpful trolls then took their luggage up to their rooms, which were situation beside one another. When they were asked if they needed anything both guests stated they would be happy enough for the time being. The scientist would look into his notes and the diplomat wanted to look around the palace for a while.

"I would be most interested in examining this claim of potential blood heritage to the Quendi by yourselves. This missive is brief, as I do not have the authorization of my government to speak on behalf of the government. However, I have petitioned the Commonality Executive Council to make an official response as soon as possible.

"Still; as Head of House Aquinall, sometimes known as the Noldor Nation here in the Commonality, I am most interested in travelling to Sindhe to investigate this rather interesting new development. New development from my perspective, you understand.

"With Great Interest,"

~ The Right Honourable Lord Sir Fárë Aquinall, Head of House Aquinall

The boggan nods to Jerranifer. "A carriage will be awaiting you at the palace gates, ma'am." He then heads off to see about his business.

King Frederick sends a reply to Lord Sir Fare Aquinall:

Your Lordship,
Your presence would be a welcome one. However, we would like to clarify that we are not making a claim but exploring a hypothesis. We would not be comfortable claiming anything until more research has been done.
Respectfully,
King Frederick ap Eiluned

Ferranifer finished brushing her hair then, since the little creature was gone, reached under the bed and pulled out one of the bottles. She unstoppered it and drank a small portion of the blood before stoppering it and putting back under the bed. She had to ration herself since she didn't know how long she would be here. That done she checked her pouch and then headed to the main gate.

Fárë - his name meaning 'all that is desired' - chuckled softly to himself as he ordered his pilot to take off. It had taken alot of work, but pouring over the maps and charts for several hours had finally revealed the position and location of Sidhe.

He tapped at a console in his comfortable chair, situated in the passenger compartment of the Fancy:

Your Highness,

My apologies for my error, Sire. - I am currently en route to Sidhe; I will arrive in two hours.

Yours,

The Right Honourable Lord Sir Fárë Aquinall

He settled back and smiled, re-reading the message carefully.

Yes, he decided, that will do. Short, but sweet.

Awaiting Ferranifer is an ornate cherrywood carriage drawn by four white horses. A human in silver and black livery holds the reigns and another opens the door for her. "Right this way, ma'am. You wished to see the seamstress."

((OOC: The name of the place is the Kingdom of Bilbtoria, not sidhe. It's part of the Resurgent Dream.))

While not a scholar of such things per-se on the matter as such, I do believe that I am quite well versed enough in the origin and beliefs of the Quendi elves to be of some assistance. Ironically, our two most qualified persons in the study of elves have been assigned to foreign assignments, and are thus unavailable.

- Ainaheri, Advisor to Emperor Mephet’ran on Arcana and the Art.

"Do we have an expert regarding this matter?", asked the queen staring deeply into the eyes of her personnel advisor, her fingers tickling over the surface of a wonderfully crafted table.

"Marquise Aleinna Cuthálion would be a perfect choice, my Liege, but she's right now visiting the Dominion. You already know her, she's the head of the Cúthalion house, the one that offered as a volunteer to deal with Lord Alkanphel in his first visit to our realm", answered the elf, nodding softly to the ruler of the Sindarin race.

"Send her a message, I want her to take care of this affair as soon as possible. I don't want to rush her, anyway, so tell her that after she finishes her business in the realm of Lady Nathicana, I want her to go and study those Sidhe, and to establish if they have any connection to us, the highest of the elves", was the final statement of the Everqueen, waving her hand in a dismissive way.

A missive is sent to Ainaheri:

Your Lordship,
We would welcome your aid in this matter. We shall assure you are treated with full honors during your stay.
-King Frederick ap Eiluned

"Thank you, young man", Ferranifer said as she approached the coach, though she only looked to be in her early 20's herself, "Yes I would like to see about the local clothing as I seem to be early." She stepped up easily and gracefully into the carriage looking over the interior.

The seats of the carriage are soft and comfortable. The interior looks fit to seat six, with curtains that can be drawn for privacy. The footman holds the door for her, helping her up before shutting it and hopping down. He climbs back on the foot of the carriage. Ferranifer feels the carriage begin to move through the town. After about ten minutes, she is let out and helped down in front of a small clothing shop.

"Thank you", she says as she steps out. She enters the store and looks around before approaching one of those within. "I would like some things in the latest fashion, if you would be so kind. Something formal and elegant."

The woman nods. "I think I have something." She disappears into the back for a moment, returning with an elegant black dress, strapless. "Try this on, miss."

Ferranifer tries it on and comes out shaking her head. Her pale skin becoming even more noticable with the black dress. "Do you have something in a lighter color?"

The woman nods and fetches a light blue dress. "Try this."

Ferranifer tries on the blue dress and comes back out nodding and handing the black dress back. "This is wonderful, I'll take it. Do you also have something casual in the current style of your nation?"

The old woman smiles a little. "Probably around here somewhere." After a moment, she produces a brown tunic, matching simply long skirt, cloak, and leather boots. "I hope this is to your liking."

"That would be perfect." Ferranifer smiled. "Oh", she frowned, "do you accept coin of other nations?"

The old woman shrugs her frail shoulders. "Is it in gold or silver?"

"Platinum and gold, whichever you prefer." Ferrinafer told her and smiled.

The old woman smiles. "Gold works. One piece for both dresses, please."

Ferranifer smiled and placed five gold coins in the woman's hand. "There, for your fine service, and good eye for fit." She then gathered her old clothes and set for less formal occasion and nodding politely left the shop.

The old woman's face breaks into a grin as she stares at the coins in her hands. "Thank you, ma'am! Thank you so much!" She moves quickly behind her counter and locks them away. "If you need anything, anything at all, merely ask me!"

The footman again opens the door for Ferranifer, helping her up. "Is there anywhere else you would go, ma'am?"

"A good question", she responded to him, "is there anything you would recommend?" Ferranifer sat back looked at the coachman.

He shakes his head. "If I were you, I'd just go back to the palace. Everything worth seeing is there, honestly. And you do have work tomorrow. Unless there's something else you need, ma'am..." He shrugs, standing at the door. A few curious passerby stop and stare at the affair.

"Very well then, I shall return to the palace." and she sat back in the coach.

The carriage carries Ferranifer back to the palace and she is helped out at the gate.

Meanwhile, King Frederick sits in his study speaking to one of his advisors. The sluagh speaks first, in whispers. "Two scholars from Iuthia are here already and a woman from Dragonsreach. Many more are expected. Aelosia and Ctan, among others, are sending representatives."

Frederick nods. "The panNorms are coming as well. Apparently, Princess Agwene has made an impression on them."

"The panNorm's are one thing since Princess Agwene's involved. But how do you think the High Queen will feel about this?"

"About what?" Frederick arches an eyebrow, looking the sluagh over. He bristles a little. "I do not think I have done anything amiss."

The sluagh, Maxwell, shrugs. "Your Majesty, many of these scholars are coming from very powerful nations that have as of yet had no contact with the High Court. Diplomacy outside the Empire is supposed to be done by High Queen Corrina's court."

Frederick shakes his head a little. "This is not a diplomatic affair. Still...I will consider the affair."

As they speak, a boggan peaks into the room. At a nod from the king, he enters. "Your Majesty, the emmissary from Ma-Tek approaches in a technological vehicle of some kind."

Well, send people out to the fields to wave him down."

Ferranifer takes her clothes to her room, folding them fastidiously before leaving the room to wander about the palace. The coachman had said the the best sights were here, she therefore assumed it was okay to look around.

What looks to be a wombat peeks around a corner at Ferranifer. The furry creature creeps behind her down the long halls of the palace. The bustling, liveried servants take no note of the creature, passing by to clean or carry food or other items. Every now and again, a human man or woman offers Ferranifer a tray with a wide variety of club sandwiches, cocktail weeners, and other finger foods. One or two offer the woman glasses of the refined wines kept in the palace.

After awhile, Ferranifer finds herself near the great oaken doors of the library. A sluagh, a pale, toothless creature dressed in Victorian garb, sets at the desk outside. The creature smiles crookedly at the woman, a piece of web dangling out his mouth. He raises one gloved hand, waggling his fingers at angles impossible even to the double jointed. His fingers easily fold back to actually lay over the back of his hand as most people can over their palms. He speaks in a whisper. "May I help you, ma'am?" Rising, he bows so deep his forehead touches the ground.

Meanwhile, the wombat noses along the wall. Finding a ventilation shaft, the creature pulls the grating free, showing an intelligent understanding of how such things are constructed. The wombat then wriggles into the shaft, seeking a way into the library.

Ferranifer politely refuses all food and drink as she looks around. As the creature asks if he can help it can help she smiles and says, "yes, as a matter of fact." She looks into the library offhandedly commenting, "Laura would love this", then returns her attention to the creature. "Yes you can. Could you tell me, please, why it is I have wombat shadowing my steps?"

The sluagh laughs, an almost silent sound. "I am sure I can." he whispers. "But knowledge is never free among my people. What can you offer me in return?" The sluagh looks her over appraisingly, his eyes narrowing attentatively. "Yes, yes...I can see it." The man, if you can call him that, shifts a few parchments around on his desk, looking down. "Ferranifer, is it not? I have not heard that name among humans before. It is lovely, in its way. His Majesty did leave orders for you to be allowed free access to the library, you and all the other delegates. Apparently, many of the elven nations are rather interested in this project. Probably merely to prove the theory false. They don't want to be related to anyone. Destroys their illusions of superiority. Of course, normally one could say the same of the sidhe. I can scarcely tolerate most of them. However, Frederick is somewhat different, more like us."

A passing servant bends down to relatch the grating onto the ventilation shaft. The servant laughs lightly, apparently quite aware of what's going on.

Feraniffer bristled at his comment but contained herself. "Well I can tell you that my name was a bit more common centuries ago", the human looking woman responded, "and what do you mean more like us? The only thing I'm certain of is that you've not answered my question. What is it you seek of me for my answer?"

The sluagh shrugs. "I mean sluagh, of course. He is a son of Eiluned, after all. But what can you offer me? I would ask fear and pain were you not a guest of my king. As is, I want knowledge of your own. Of course, you could simply enter the library and discover what awaits you there. I doubt any harm would come of it, unless you are overproud. Now, you wouldn't have hubris in your heart, a lady as fair as you?"

The sluagh reaches down, opening a desk drawer. When he pulls it out, his hand is crawling in spiders of all shapes and sizes. A large one catches a smaller and consumed it, hunting and eating right on the gloved hand. The sluagh looks down and watches them intently before lifting the glove to his face. He shoves his whole glove hand down his throat up to his forearm. He pulls it back out with a grin, now devoid of spiders. An impossibly long, pale, white tongue creeps from his mouth, licking his lips grotesquely. "Would you like some, miss? They're something of an acquired taste but truly quite delicious."

Ferranifer sat on the edge of the desk and slid open the drawer. Reaching in she sifted through the spider, finding a particularly large specimin. Nonchalantly she picked it up and popped it in her mouth. "Thank you. But I do prefer a warm, wet, nourishment. And as for hubris", she said standing up and closing the drawer, "any of MY kind who has survived as long as I have certainly has a great deal of it." That said she turned and entered the library.

The sluagh smiles, whispering after her. "I think I'm going to like you."

The library itself is rather gradiose, two stories of well kept, leather books going on at great length. Large golden letters ornately mark the subjects: HISTORY, PHILOSOPHY, MATHEMATICS, GRAMMAR, MAGIC, POLITICS, ETYMOLOGY, DREAMING LORE and a number of other things, many more obscure.

A single book sits open on a table. The chapter it is open to is an old story about the possible origin of the sidhe. A chair has been pulled up to that table, finely carved and nicely cushioned. While a number of other tables are scattered about the library, no others had books upon them.

Soft footsteps, like bare human feet might make, can be heard vaguely in the aisles. It stills quickly when the door is heard closing once more. The candles along the walls flicker dimly, though a bright lamp sits next to the open book.

Ferranifer gestured, raising the light level in the room and walked toward the open book. "Tell me wombat", she said, "am I that fascinating?" She looked down at the book and read the history therein.

The book is a simple story, clearly a myth. It says that the world was once ruled entirely by the nightmarish race of redcaps. It says that none could challenge their power for they rules fear and darkness and there was as yet no light in the world. The sidhe came from somewhere beyond the world and waged a failed battle against them. After the first sidhe were slain, more sidhe came and fell as well. Eventually, the greatest sidhe sorcerers summoned the sun itself from the void and place him and his sister the moon in the sky. Strengthened by the light, they went on to conquer darkness and claim the right to rule all that is.

A woman's voice calls from the shelves. "Nothing. You're really boring. Especially cause you're always standing up, every moment of your life. Don't you get tired? Anyway, you seduced that sluagh. I saw how happy he was yesterday morning. Anyway, you're a newborn and thus needed to be tested for hubris. Do you have any? It's restricted around here, like opium. I've never had opium. Have you. I hear it makes you fly but then you implode."

"Newborn", Ferranifer mumbled, "compared to some I suppose. I have no hubris and don't use anything like that. As for getting tired I almost never sleep and haven't in centuries. You can come out, I don't bite. Well....not unless I'm hungry."

"Not even if I'm good?" The voice giggles a little, girlishly. "I can't come out or the men would eat me. I'm naked and I don't have any skin on. You're no fun though. So you eat people? That's kind of interesting. Redcaps do that every five minutes or so. Are you a redcap? I've never seen such an elven redcap before. Maybe you went to an illusionists, redcap illusion lady."

Bare feet can be heard padding rapidly, moving to a different location behind the shelves. Ferranifer can see a brief glimpse of what looks to essentially be a nude, human form before it's gone again, hiding. "So what do you do? Are you a friend?" If not, I'm going back to the throne room to sit on my throne and dance. I do love to dance. Do you dance at all? My father said it was just for satyrs but I like it. My mother was a satyr, you know. So was my father, only he was a sluagh. I'm in love with you, you know. You're so inquisitive and in command. I think you're evil though. Self-possessed people are always evil. That's repeated a good 832 times in holy scripture. I wouldn't want to be branded a heretic or anything for talking to you naked."

Ferranifer was beginning to wonder if this being was related to kender with it's non-stop chatter, but she looked around for something reflective to look at herself. 'Human', she thought, 'not elven. She thought she was human but she hadn't been able to remember offhand since she had changed bodies after Lauralin had destroyed her last one. She stepped away from the mirror facing the general direction of the fey.

"I don't eat people", she said as she let her lips part slightly and allowed the eye teeth to slip from thier gum sheaths, "I drink thier blood for nourishment." She allowed her teeth to slip back into her gums, "but I'm sated at the moment so have no need to worry about that. I do know many dances and your being nude in my presence doesn't bother me at all. I've known many cultures over the centuries and am not offended by such displays. And yes, I am evil, though I serve a good queen. I've sworn my oath of loyalty to her and I don't break my word. If you want a friend of me then come out, otherwise I'll think your simply spying, and that wouldn't please me."

"Oh", she said after a second to see of the fey would emerge, "and I'm a necromancer, not an illusionist." She then went silent to see if the little creature would remove itself from hiding.

A muscular woman steps out from the shelves, raven haired and entirely nude. Her nose is black and wet, an animal's nose. The back of her hand's are lined with fur, identical to that of the wombat. Her ears are furry, also more fit for a wombat than a woman. The rest of her is human.

((OOC: I'm going to limit myself to that fairly weak description cause she's nude and this is a PG thread.))

The being smiles. "Hewwo, prettiness! My name is Amelia Carrelia. And if you drank my blood, you'd explode. I had a vampire do it once before and they went crazy and flew away." She grins crookedly, winking at Ferranifer before she bows at the waist, with a slight flourish. "No one would care that I'm naked in the library anyway. We're both ladies so we couldn't even talk about books, much less do anything untoward. You need an 18 year old satyr man for that kind of thing, unless you're a bonobo. I've heard rumors about how the bonobos live in their forests."

"Amelia", Ferranifer said, beaming the woman a smile, "just call me Ferranifer." Ferranifer had created creatures far worse than this, in fact this one was pleasing to the eye compared to alot of her own creations. Not that the creations survived since they had to be destroyed because none of them went through the painful transition voluntarily. "Why don't you have a seat?" she said. She was intensely curious about Amelia's comment on feeding making her explode. She was tempted to just grab the creature as she would have in the old days and start experimenting, but she represented Lauralin here in a way and Lauralin had given her a second chance.

"I can't say that I enjoy....I mean have tried, Satyr's." She had tried many things over centuries. After a hundred years or so even the best man was boring. "But that is neither here nor there." she said looking the woman over curiously. "Shapeshifting wombat? Lycanthrope bat?" she asked, genuinely intrigued, "what is your species exactly?"

The ICEL Fancy - a conically-nosed teardrop-shaped craft with no wings and no viewports, on each side emblazened with a symbol of a sword surrounded by a laurel, with a harp in the top-right hand corner of the symbol - fell from the sky at subsonic speed with a roaring cry of rushing air, decellerating hard and coming to a gentle halt a mere three feet above the ground. Landing struts descend - or, rather, flow from underneath the craft, intersecting with the ground with a dull sucking sound. Hermetically sealed to the ground, the 'aircraft' - although it's clearly not a conventional aircraft - settles into place.

Upon right-hand side of the craft, at the lower centre quadrant of the symbol of House Aquinall, a segment of the hull dissolves into what appears to be liquid metal and, like the landing struts, flows to the ground to provide a gangway from what is now clearly an opening into the vessel.

Down the gangway comes an extremely tall Elf - he's well over two meters in height - with a gracefully curved body and fairly long, flowing jet-black hair. His elegant, well-chiseled features are not exceptionally handsome (for the Quendi), but he certainly is dashing by Human standards.

He looks about curiously, trying to find someone - anyone - who is supposed to be greeting him.

The wombat woman smiles warmly, sitting and crossing her muscled legs. "I'm an elf." She nods repeatedly. "You proved it, after all. Not like satyrs, which are gods. They all serve Priapus. Too bad their all priests." As soon as her bare rump presses down upon the cushion where she wished Ferranifer to sit, a whoopie cushion lets loose with it's unpleasant noise, which the being ignores.

A couple boggans stand in the field where they waved the conical vehicle from Ctan down. For about three minutes, there is no one else in the field. A carriage hurriedly rides up and the footman lets a sidhe lady out. She is lovely for her people, which means more lovely than any human could ever be without magic or hyper-tech. Her elegantly pointed ears taper upwards and her golden yellow hair shines as it waves over her bare shoulders. Her skin is like pearl and her body a perfect hourglass figure. She wears a black dress with silver lining, strapless, low cut, and with a slit up to the right thigh. Her heels sink into the dirt of the field as she approaches, curtseying to the visiting elf as she takes him in. "Good evening, m'lord. I am the Lady Janice ni Eiluned, His Majesty's Seneschal. I was sent to personally escort you to the palace. Do you have any bags?" As she speaks, a rather cramped troll disembarks from her carriage, stretching his huge frame.

"Hmm", Ferranifer reaches out, tracing the lines of Amelia's face, "curious for an elf, though there are regional derivations." Her fingers are chilled but soft. "Satyrs are gods? Not where I come from, but I agree, priests are SUCH a bore." she said and winked at Amelia. "Well, actually there are the Loviatar priestesses. Now THEY are FAR from boring." Ferranifer seated herself on the table near Amelia. "So how did I garner the interest of a lovely elf of these lands? Or are the elves here attracted to evil?" she asked grinning.

The woman fidgets a little at the cold touch. "Attracted? But we're both maidens. You can get a chastity belt locked on you for doing things like that. Is that what they do in your country, though? I heard there were zillions of thespians in some parts of the world. Do you think the king will be mad if he comes in and sees us naked? I mean, he does sit on his throne in the nude all the time but he's a king and the prettiest king there is too. So where are you from anyway? Are you here to eat the King? He'd make you explode too. All of us have explosive blood except cats and humans. Cats have razor sharp claws though and can cut through just about any armor. Did you fart? I heard someone fart." She sniffs the air discerningly. "You should ask to be excused next time you do that. The king's immune to farting cause he only eats celery. That's why he weighs about an ounce anyway. So do they have elves in your country? Elves like me, I mean. I think I'm a pretty elf. Do you think I'm pretty? I asked the king that but he didn't answer. You know how kings are, mutes. I heard your queen was a mute too. I guess it's in the royal blood."

Ferranifer chuckled. "Chastity belt, how archaic. There more permanent methods. Of course", she said frowning somewhat, "most don't survived those particular methods. As for the king being angry", she shrugged her shoulders, "Our nation have but recently opened thier borders so I know little of your people or regency.

Ferranifer stood up and studied the open book again as she continued. "I'm from a nation called Dragonsreach within the region of Callahorn and no I've not come to eat your king. I've come at a request for information gathering."

There was that exploding blood issue again. Ferranifer was itching to tear into one of these people and examine the sanguine material for herself. She hated not knowing tasty tidbits such as that.

"And no I most certainly did NOT fart. Except on rare occasion to blend in with society I don't anything and therefore would be quite incapable of that particular function.

Ferranifer looked up from the book going over the story in her mind again as she continued. We do have elves in our nation. In fact a good deal of the population is elven, but not like you. There are none so fair as you are." she said smiling. "If your king is mute, count yourself lucky. Any stories you heard my Queen being mute is exagerated to an expnential that's beyond calculation. She has an opinion about virtually everything. But at least she has a terrific intellect, so her opinions are at least educated."

She came around to sit on the table again. "Your ruled by a patriarch, a monarchy or a matriarch?"

The woman smiles. "The king is a matriarch. He's my mother, actually. I'm a princess. Do you really think I'm fair? One fellow called me a liar once but I'm sure he was just being silly. I think you're the fairest. Is that because you're dead? I've never seen a dead woman before. Do you have special powers? Besides exploding, I mean."

"As a mortal I was born to royalty. I was given the dark gift by one of noble line. I do have powers beyond my magic, powers granted by the royal bloodline of the darkness I inherited." Ferranifer's voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. She didn't often think of the past, or the ethereal creature she had once been. "The power of the bloodline is strong indeed." she said and suddenly looked up with a blank expression on her face. "Where was I?"

"You were talking about how pretty I was but how you were scared of me cause I might make you explode." The creature replies non-chalantly. "How long do we have to hang out naked in the library? I only came cause I knew you would fart and you did."

"No need for us to stay here, we can go where you like", Ferranifer replied, curious about where the creature wanted to take her.

The Blue scientist bobs her little delta-winged aircraft through the atmosphere, letting the autonav guide her towards where the maps say this nation should be. The panNorm generally don't like navigating around Earth; it tends to be confusing seeing how it changes depending how one looks at it or chooses to look at it.

Coming across the open field with a growing assortment of vehicles anachronistic for the nation it lies in, she takes manual control and dips it down in low approach, pulling up in the flare to bleed off excess velocity, and finally letting its reinforced shock-absorbent landing gear with balloon tires touch down on the flat hill just before stalling, rolling about easily and more-or-less steadily as thrust-reverse cowlings slam down, the whine of the turbofans first speeding to a roar to bleed more speed, then powering down to idle. The blended-wing-body airplane, large enough to hold maybe six humans, has broad wings of a moderate aspect ratio and winglets on the tips with no tail assembly beyond fences with limited control surface area. With the flick of a switch, the wings fold up as it taxies away from where everything has been landing and the bulbous canopy that dominates the nose of the craft opens up once it comes to a complete stop.

The blue insectoid inside, looking very much like an ant standing two meters from head to gaster with opposable manipulators and a broad braincase, uncurls from behind the control dais and hops out, bringing along a pocket-covered vest and a harness filled with tools along with her. She looks around steadily as she settles backpacks like off-center humps on the back of her thorax. Quite odd for an airfield--hardly controlled at all, but that makes sense for what is essentially an auxilliary facility not required by the local economy. Removing wheel blocks from an open side hatch, she wedges them securely under the wheels to make sure the airplane doesn't roll off by itself even though the brakes are locked.

The nude being blinks at Ferranifer. "Why don't you let me go put clothes on? If you were a boy, then you'd want to make love with me but you're a little girl so you can't."

The being that makes her way towards the ants is rather different from the races so far seen in the Empire. From the waist up, she is a fearsome woman. Raven hair and dark eyes shift over the panNorm as she approaches. Her skin is pale, as though it has never been in the sun, covered in fierce tatoos of battle and monsters. On her back hangs a razor sharp trident, looking more for use than ceremony. Only two black sea shells keep modesty on her chest/ However, it is from the waist down that she is quite different and this might be why she was choosen for this mission, to make the panNorm feel more at home. Her legs are red exo-skeleton, linked by the many jopints typical of a crustacean. The woman has four chitonous legs which scuttle along the ground like a crab might. Two trolls, blue, armored, towering, and let less fierce in visage, flank her. The creature smiles, a smile that would make most shudder. "Greetings. I am Kalamana. I was sent to greet you and escort you to the palace, Madame...?"

"I suppose in this culture clothes would be best", Ferranifer says as she leans back to await Amelia.

The wombat woman scurries off. A few minutes later she returns, wearing a red sleeveless tunic, black sleeveless vest, and yellow leggins. On her feet, she wears tightly laced black boots. She enters the library and does a small twirl, bowing to Ferranifer. "How does this suit you, fair maiden?" The woman winks conspiritorily. "They don't call me Sarena the Bold because I'm so brave in battle. So, anyway, what do you want to talk about now? You're the one who has me in a cage after all. Want to go bug the Iuthans? What are they anyway? They've vanished into a vast cavern and not been seen since. I think they must be moles. There are many large nations made up entirely of moles. They all answer to the high priest of the moles. He worships the great god of turkey. But I'm sure you know all this already. You said you were a theomancer. Do you dance? I love to dance. We could grab some kings and make them dance with us." The woman walks up to Ferranifer, moving around her with a half-predatory glance, pondering something. She smiles and there's a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Are you amusement proof, like a noblewoman, or just smarter than Homer and Socrates combined? Not that they ever combined. They were rival boxers."

'I wish Laura was here, she's better with kender than me', Ferranifer muttered, "What do you mean I have you in a box? Who are the Iuthans? I am intelligent but not from your region, and I said Necromancer not Theomancer. My magic deals with the dead, control of them and creating undead, as well destroying the living."

Sarenia shrugs. "You caged me, locked me up so I couldn't get out and you could do experiments. It's ok though cause if you kill me I'll become a zombie and eat your brain and you'll still explode. What's a kender anyway? So what do you want to do? I asked you twelve times and you refused to answer. Shouldn't you be getting ready for that conference, anyway, or meeting the other delegates?" The pooka glances off a moment, smiling. "You don't think I'm pretty any more. I'm going to cry." She pouts, making big puppy dog eyes at the vampiress. "You just want to spend years in the library doing absolutely nothing. My brain's going to explode. Obviously, that's not ok. You're supposed to be the explosive one. Maybe you could have a couple hundred humans though. They don't make you explode. At least, I think they don't. How many have you had?" Sarenia extends a hand to Ferranifer. "Come on!"

The sluagh peeks in from outside, smirking faintly. He slips back to his post, laughing to himself. Reaching inside his drawer, he helps himself to a few more spiders.

"Pooka", Ferranifer said, "no wonder. I can't seem to recall ever experimenting on your kind, but I have experimented on other shapeshifters." She stood up and walked over to the pooka, "I suppose I should see where this conference is to take place."

"Greetings. I am Kalamana. I was sent to greet you and escort you to the palace, Madame...?"
The Blue would blink if she could--mostly because the transition from exoskeletal to endoskeletal simply bends her mind more than the demonic nature. Instead, she performs the analog ubiquitous to the panNorm--she slowly taps the tips of her antennae together. Not having much else to do, she offers a manipulator-hand while placing a translator cube between her mandibles with the other. "Scientist 82142895 of the Blue Mother of Us All on behalf of the panNorm."

The pause is palpable.

"You have a nice country." She looks around a bit without moving her head. "Very green. The palace? Intrigued--lead the way." She finds herself saddened that she cannot smile or at otherwise at least feign endoskeletal emotion indicators, settling for a polite open-'palmed' manipulator to the side.

((Technically, she's not a demon., actually. No demons here, just some very odd types of fairies.))

Kalamana places a pasty hand in the mandible, smiling coldly. "Welcome, Scientist." The creature starts to scuttle towards the palace. "Do you have any luggage?" The trolls look curiously between the two, as expressionless as ever. One of them arches an eyebrow faintly at the craft, not having seen the like before.

Kalamana gives a grin and a wave to the sidhe present to greet Ma-Tek. The sidhe woman shudders faintly, averting her eyes from the creature. Kalamana cackles a little. "I like watching the little worm wriggle. She's not very nice to me or my kind. I'd stay away from her if I were you. Some people can't appreciate diversity. The king, of course, is nothing like that. Still, it was thought I might have a little more in common with your people than other citizens of the kingdom. That's why I was sent. I'm not sure how true it is, without knowing your people."

(OOC: Turn of a phrase. Angels, demons... all the same to the panNorm--figments of the imagination.)
Kalamana places a pasty hand in the mandible, smiling coldly. "Welcome, Scientist." The creature starts to scuttle towards the palace. "Do you have any luggage?" The trolls look curiously between the two, as expressionless as ever. One of them arches an eyebrow faintly at the craft, not having seen the like before.
"Nothing past the bags on my thorax pouches," Scientist 82142895 replies, following along and almost falling in step with the crabtaur. She speaks with a sort of coolness that belies something deeper, long since buried. Certainly the Prime Directive had been amended four centuries prior, but institutionalized racism is a hard habit to break in a species literally bred into it for millions of years...

In the scientist's mind the crab... human... thing is more of an abomination of the Norm, of the perfect exoskeletal structure of the Ancestors that sent Alpha on its journey fifteen million years ago, than any single panNorm derivative ever appeared. It is hideous in its fusion of fleshy endoskeleton and exoskeleton, but not clean and smooth like a Norm's--panNorm's, she has to remind herself--but deformed in its cetacean lines, knobby in almost a diseased fashion. She is my host. She is unrelated to the Norm. She is not an abomination of the Norm. This she knows, in her mind...

Thinking quickly, she puts Kalamana between herself and the sun. "Bright day," she says perhaps a bit nervously, shielding her compound eye both from the sun and the image of the strange faerie. Observing the curious trolls with her other eye, she lets herself be distracted for the trip. "It is an atmospheric craft for short trips of a few people like this. One of our ships just drops it out in the atmosphere and lets it fly from there. We use them on Eärendil for transporting small numbers from point to point on the planet when speed is not absolutely vital--the technology is proven and so it is resource-efficient."

"I like watching the little worm wriggle. She's not very nice to me or my kind. I'd stay away from her if I were you. Some people can't appreciate diversity. The king, of course, is nothing like that. Still, it was thought I might have a little more in common with your people than other citizens of the kingdom. That's why I was sent. I'm not sure how true it is, without knowing your people."
If the Scientist had lips, this would be the perfect time for a wry smile. Instead, her antennae droop just a little and the little translator box turns just a touch wry in its synthesized female's voice. "The effort is appreciated. You certainly have some peculiar... similarities to my kind. It accentuates the differences."

She thinks for a moment, mind momentarily distracted away from baser thoughts. "Diversity is something we all have to work at, I believe. There is always room for improvement in learning to tolerate differences."

Kalamana shrugs. "Truthfully? I thought it a rather foolish idea. The more humanoid fae around here consider me far more disturbing sight than they consider you. You see, you are just something alien. I am a disgusting mixture of their flesh with the alien. I tried to explain to the king it would likely work the other way as well but..." She grins again. Don't bother being polite. We don't have our own standards of beauty. Murhuacha are nightmares, meant toi be monsters. If someone considered me beautiful, it would be an insult. Actually, there is an interesting story about that, if you would like to hear it. It might disturb you but it is what my people are. Do not worry. I am sworn to obey a Summer King and my oath is my bond. But the bulk of my people are rather savage, almost all in Wintermore."

The trolls hold their tongues at all of this, trailing along behind. Once or twice they cast meaningful looks at each other. They don't know about the panNorm, but, in their heart of hearts, they would rather kill Kalamana than escort her.

Ferranifer headed to the door of the libraray and opened it stepping out to find the place that the conference would take place. She looks at the slough and asks, "Where might I find the location of the conference?"

Serania lowers her hand with a slight pout. "Ferranifer! What'd I do wrong? You were nice last year."

The sluagh smirks lightly. "It's in a conference room down the hall." He smirks lightly. "How did you enjoy Lady Serania? She is the only of her kind of her kind to have that rank in this whole kingdom. I assume you gained a great deal of valuable information, did you not?" A silent chuckle as he helps himself to a few more spiders, tossing her one. "Have one."

A servant bows to Ferranifer as he passes. "Ma'am, the representatives from Ma-Tek and S-14 have arrived, if you wish to meet with them. The representative of Ctan should be here shorlty and the representative from Aelosia should be arriving in some time. She merely wishes to finish her business in the Dominion." With another bow, the servant continues down the hall.

The sluagh arches a brow a little. "So, do you plan to hunt while you're here?"

She looks at Serania, "What do you mean? I've never met you before today!" What did she learn? DAMN Lauralin anyway, she had never had a conscience and never missed it. Now she thinks of the past and wonders at the creations she had so visciously created. She rubbed her forhead trying to think. She didn't understand anything that was happening, it seemed almost surreal. "I didn't make you what you are." she said barely above a whisper and turned trying to make her way toward her room only she couldn't remember the way.

The Scientist chuckles wryly. "It just so happens that you were right. Still, at least we have an understanding, and it leads to a small story of my own.

"We of the panNorm are all the descendants of the true Norm, the Norm that launched Alpha to save their race. They knew their kind would change, and so they issued the Prime Directive--variations on the Norm that were not the Norm itself were detrimental to the survival of the Norm and were to be eliminated through the application of selective breeding and other genetic techniques. Thus they expected to travel over the multimillenium journey and save the species threatened by increasing radiation levels in the dying core of the Magellanic Clouds.

"There is no stopping change, however, and the Norm lost out to its daughters. The Norm evolved into the many different parts of the panNorm, who were better adapted to survival aboard Alpha, and eventually the line of the true Norm died, replaced with four--the Blues, Greens, Reds, and Minis. The Blue Ancestors of time immemorial ordered the truth suppressed in Alpha, and so the truth was lost to time...

"But the Prime Directive and the concept of protecting the Norm was not. Still, languages evolve. Phrases evolve. The Prime Directive became 'All variations from the Norm are abominations and will not be suffered to live.' Each of the four subsets had the same Prime Directive, and each thought itself to be the Norm. You can imagine what happened next. Millenia of constant war, ranging from skirmishes over resources to full nuclear conflicts. Only the possibility of destroying all the panNorm and thus each individual Norm-concept prevented us from annihilating ourselves. We had to work together grudgingly, just enough to hold out to that time when we could eradicate the abominations and take our place as the True Norm.

"Of course, all that was untrue. Four hundred years ago, explorers from this system came to us as we approached and proved it to us. Four hundred years ago, our culture discovered it was living in a self-defeating lie. Four hundred years ago, we were literally forced to embrace our enemies as cousins by our own rationality... and yet, there is still difference. There is still self-superiority. There is still conflict, although we keep them quiet and to ourselves. We have made tremendous progress, but...

"The Prime Directive still exists, changed again. 'Any threat to the continued survival of the panNorm is an abomination and will not be suffered to continue.' It hearkens back to the meaning of the True Norm's Prime Directive, but it maintains the zealous wording of our old Prime Directive. Our zeal has not left, it has merely broadened what it allows. Our racism has not left us, it has merely become more quiet and better controlled.

"We know of a species called the Gurlanai. They are insectoid, like us, and they are similar to mantis-like creatures that live on the low-gravity terraces of Alpha. We think of them, silently, as no more than humans would think of talking dogs. They are subNorm. They are abominations, but tolerable ones as they are no threat to us.

"You demand honesty, or at least assert that diplomatic untruth is uneccessary." The Scientist chuckles wryly again. "You and yours also classify as an abomination. It is... difficult to look at you for any extended period of time. Do not be overly offended, as we felt the same way about the first endoskeletal explorers. It took time for us to get used to their organs writhing outside of the protection of their bones, and we can now tolerate it although we still consider it... less pleasant to look at than our own forms. Given time, we can adapt to your kind as well, although most likely with the same caveat." She bows her head slowly as they walk. "As such, I will keep in mind your actual status as my host and will do my best to avoid my own cultural tendencies, although I may slip at times."

Another chuckle, perhaps less wry. "How does this compare with your story?"

The sluagh smirks faintly, walking after Ferranifer for a moment, whispering. "If you had bothered to learn what she was before you went in there, you would not be in this state. Of course, I am still here. You hurt her feelings, you know? She might cry and her tears can have effects on some people."

Kalamana smirks. "If you expect that, then you truly do not understand what the fairy races are. The sidhe and the mer and the ghille dhu are magically beautiful. It is not a matter of taste. It is Dana's will. Likewise, we are revolting. Standards of beauty are not the issue nor is what forms you are accustomed to. It likely does not effect you much outside of certain magical places, as you are a scientific people and not in touch with dreams. But look at that loathsome bitch of a worm over there..." turning her gaze to the sidhe there to great the elves "...and tell me she does not look more lovely to you the longer you remain in this land, despite having a form which you naturally find nothing but disgusting." And, unless the panNorm are magically immune or resistant, her words seem to prove true. The effects are off-set by the fact that the sidhe is endoskeletal. They don't fall in love with her or anything. However, she does look significantly more attractive than a being with her form -should- look.

Ferranifer whirled on the slough. "I AM THE DARK MISTRESS! I TORMENT AND TORTURE WHOM I CHOOSE AND FEEL NO REMORSE!"

But that wasn't true anymore was it? Lauralin had a way of affecting people. She had even touched the dark heart of the Mistress of the dark academy. And Laura was dark child. Brought into the darkness by Ferranifer. She was not even sure why she had done it.

The sluagh covers his ears, winceing and darting back into the shadows. He seems to almost vanish as he moves rapidly away from the unbearable noise of shouting. After he's out of hearing range, he falls against a wall and laughs lightly. He had no idea what the pooka could have done to unnerve the woman so.

Meanwhile, Sarenia frowns, holding back a tear. She walks over and pulls her knees up in her arms, sitting against the wall. She really has no idea what she did to upset the vampire so much. She was just trying to be nice. Really, she was. Maybe she could make it up somehow. Smiling again, she hops up and runs through the halls towards the kitchens. She grabs some boxes of candies and sweets, barking orders casually at the servants as she moves. She races back to the library and begins scanning the shelves until she finds a book she doubts anyone would miss. Taking it from the shelf, she carries all the supplies back to her room. Ferranifer's going to love this! At least, so assumes the pooka knight.

'Upset the Pooka', Ferranifer thought, 'nonsense.' So why did she feel the need to find her....it, she corrected herself. She was confused, she needed to think, to talk to someone. Yet she had no friends, only Lauralin. She kept everyone else at arms length. She stopped walking suddenly. That's what was wrong. Since Lauralin gave her a second chance she had never left her side. She desperatly wanted to talk to someone. She needed to understand. She looked about her, no idea where she was. What was happening to her? What did she care about the feelings of any creature?

The odd liveried servant passed, even in the far flung halls to which Ferranifer has wandered in her fury. Should she wish directions to anywhere specifically, someone is available for the asking.

"Excuse me", she said to the servant, "I am Ferranifer Melbourne of Dragonsreach and I fear that I've gotten turned around. Could you direct me to my room?"

The servant smiles. "Of course, ma'am. Just head down this hallway, turn left, head straight until you pass the library, take a right turn, then it's the fourth room on the left. They are among the best, ma'am. His Majesty wanted to make sure of your comfort. Would you like anything sent to your room?"

"Thank you, no. I'm quite sufficiently set." She returned to her room, closing the door behind her as she closed her eyes. Utter confusion raged in her mind. What was wrong with her, why was she like this?

"But look at that loathsome bitch of a worm over there..." turning her gaze to the sidhe there to great the elves "...and tell me she does not look more lovely to you the longer you remain in this land, despite having a form which you naturally find nothing but disgusting."
"You are right--I and my people do not understand. That is why we are curious and I am here."

Being about eight light-minutes from the rest of the interconnected panNorm gestalt and having a lot of radio-frequency noise inbetween the usual resistance (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6779592&postcount=53) to such things is lacking. The Scientist looks, sees, feels... and is disquieted by a concept being applied in a situation where it is racially incompatible. The sleek, the efficient, the mathematically pure, all those are 'beautiful,' and beauty among the panNorm is rated similarily; as form follows function and has been for millions of years, each of the panNorm are efficiently designed to meet their tasks to about the same extent, and so the concept does not receive much play inside the hive. It is only when obvious differences come up that it becomes noticable. It's hard for beauty to thrive in a land where everyone looks the same.

Endoskeletals do not usually have a single function and so their form is more varied, indistinct, and, in the panNorm mind, inefficient. It hardly classifies as 'beautiful' for these reasons. Yet... as the Scientist watches, she feels herself being drawn to an inexplicable purity of function in the faerie that is utterly incongruous with her appearance or anything known about her. This, so far from the response she knows should be generated, makes her uneasy.

"Analysis will be difficult if my own senses conspire to lie to me," the Blue muses aloud, "but you are right again. I will have to be careful to see that I am not biased by these... capabilities that you seem to imply are common around here. If I take detailed notes, then my cousins and sisters can identify bias and hopefully account for it in future evaluation."

Another moment for thought. "Although, perhaps your leaders were correct in sending you here. I very much doubt I would have learned this if they had sent someone... closer to the status quo." A soft chuckle, although the panNorm continues to shield its eyes from the sun and Kalamana simultaneously. "It is something of a weak attempt at a compliment and a show of gratitude."

Kalamana nods a little. "Our forms are more about appearances than function because appearance supports function here. Because the sidhe are rulers, they look like the embodiment of leadership and have the capabilities it implies. They don't have the capabilities and then an appearance determined by what those capabilities necessitate scientifically. The mer are the best example, I think. Their bodies are not as designed for swimming as those of a fish and yet their form embodies the soulless seduction of the sea more than, say, a sentient swordfish ever could. And thus, here, they swim as well as any fish. To understand it, you are going to have to think with your hearts and dreams more than with your logic. Do panNorm possess imaginations? I mean no insult. It is an honest question." The scuttling crab woman comes within sight of the palace, smiling to herself as she heads towards the gate, guards in tow. The two trolls at the gate bow as servants inside open the gate for the party.

Meanwhile, there is a knock on Ferranifer's door. When she opens it, she finds a thick, unlabeled tome. A note lies on top:

This may help you with your research.

Fárë peered about. Hmm. That's odd, doesn't seem to be anybody here. Maybe I'm in the wrong country...

Ferranifer quickly extends her vampiric senses, hoping to locate the any warm bodied individuals as she picks up the book and takes it into her room. She opens and studies it.

A warm blooded being moves swiftly away as soon as the book is placed. No one is around, however, when Ferranifer reaches the door. As soon as the book is open, lots of candies and sweets pop out from the hollowed out book. Chocolates, taffies, cookies, and a number of unidentifiable but sugary items. The book is entirely hollowed out and only the very edge of the pages can be read. Nothing can be pieced together from what letters and words remain there. A little yellow smiling face inside a red heart is etched on the bottom of the book.

OOC: Ma-Tek, I've already posted someone greeting you and referred back to that person four or five times in the thread. Before that, I posted that people were sent to the field to wave you down. I don't know why you're posting that you're alone in the field.

A couple boggans stand in the field where they waved the conical vehicle from Ctan down. For about three minutes, there is no one else in the field. A carriage hurriedly rides up and the footman lets a sidhe lady out. She is lovely for her people, which means more lovely than any human could ever be without magic or hyper-tech. Her elegantly pointed ears taper upwards and her golden yellow hair shines as it waves over her bare shoulders. Her skin is like pearl and her body a perfect hourglass figure. She wears a black dress with silver lining, strapless, low cut, and with a slit up to the right thigh. Her heels sink into the dirt of the field as she approaches, curtseying to the visiting elf as she takes him in. "Good evening, m'lord. I am the Lady Janice ni Eiluned, His Majesty's Seneschal. I was sent to personally escort you to the palace. Do you have any bags?" As she speaks, a rather cramped troll disembarks from her carriage, stretching his huge frame.

OOC: Reposted, for your convenience

Ferranifer examined the contents identifying the cookies, as Laura was prone to cook and bake and made rather exquisite meals, but the rest eluded her visual inspection. She carefully sampled them, finding most to be so sweet they practically made her eyeteeth ache, but one she found highly appealing. She looked at the writing...."Shaak-o-laatae" she said, the curious mix of ingrediants being rather pleasant. She took another bite, enjoying the way it melted in her mouth. "I need to find some of this to take home", she said to no one in particular. Now she had to find out who put it here in order to see where she could find more of this delicacy. She found it curious that they would serve such things in hollowed out books, but each nation had it's own customs. Perhaps it was significant in some way. She summoned her wraith familiar, an ability of the noble line she was linked to in her dark gift. "Roam the hallways, discretely", which meant in ethereal form and unseen, "and see if any of the other dignitaries have thier room gifts yet. If find any Shaakolaatae", and she showed him the wrapper, "bring it here. Here", she said handing him the other sweets, "put these in the stead of any you find." As the wraith went about it's task she took another bite, allowing the ambrosia to melt in her mouth.

"To understand it, you are going to have to think with your hearts and dreams more than with your logic. Do panNorm possess imaginations? I mean no insult. It is an honest question."
"That is an interesting question, as what it asks is so broad." The Scientist pauses for a minute, antennae tapping together relatively quickly, then dancing about. "We do have imaginations in that we can visualize situations that are not. We can imagine things that might happen and replay things from the past in our imaginations. These things may not be real or actually occur, at which point they are what is called fantasy, but they are always closely related to what we perceive to be possible, to be true, and so forth.

"For example, the apparently old mind game of saying 'don't think about a blue cow.' We can think of a blue cow when prompted, but we would probably not think of saying it, initializing the thought, because cows are not generally blue unless they are covered in paint or designed that way. There is no reason for cows to be blue, so why should we think of blue cows?

"That leads into the broader definition of imagination which covers creativity and nonlinear thinking... 'flights of fancy,' if you will. We have no art, as it is made understood to us. We can paint and we can draw, but we do not attempt to evoke emotions or convey messages in our paintings and drawings as endoskeletal artists do. If we paint a landscape, we copy what we see. If we paint a landscape we imagine, it is as realistic as we can make it... perhaps visual art is not a good example.

"We have no music. Sounds, for some reason, controlled in pitch, tone, length, and rhythm have an effect on endoskeletals we do not understand. It apparently conveys emotions and ideas to them that may or may not be alien to us, but the manner of transmission is. We can study music theory and create a structurally 'perfect' piece, but it is always called 'lifeless' whenever we try. Apparently there is some part of creative, original, non-progressing effort that we lack."

The Blue offers a shrug. "It appears in our science as well. Human history speaks of technological revolutions--we had no such revolutions. Our science truly is a method, with each new theory created when the old ones have been disproven, tenative steps forward based on what we do know and what may most likely turn out to be true. Instead of rapid leaps of intuition, we solve problems with steady application of method.

"Now, this is not to say we can not have this form of imagination and will forever lack the capability to understand or originally think of the fantastical. We simply do not appear to possess it at this time. We have been exposed to many phenomenon and experiences since our arrival here that our current science does not explain; either we will adapt our science so it does explain them and we can understand them that way, or, given more time, we will adapt our own understanding to a more intuitive method. While we generally deny the existence of magic and fantasy and such things, there is enough here that gives us pause and makes our denials somewhat less... valid. Documented and measured reality does trump scientific theory, after all."

She looks at the gates with a slight cant of her head; looking at everything curiously. "A side note... we do not dream." She points at her complex compound eyes. "Our eyes never close."

Kalamana nods. "That answers my question." The crab like woman scuttles down the halls, showing to panNorm to a guest room designed somewhat to meet the requirements of the ant form. "These are the rooms set aside for you. The conference shall begin in the morning. Is there anything further you require?"

No other books or chocolates have been left out. The wraith finds that this is something which has only happened to Ferranifer. The human servants do not notice the incorporeal being. While sluagh have the ability to detect such things, unique among the fae, more or less, none happen to spot him.

Meanwhile, human servants knock lightly on the doors of the delegates from Iuthia.

Darkshadow returns, "Nothing else, Mistress", it says in it's sepulchral voice. Ferranifer sighs and nods. "Very well." She takes the sweets back and places them in the book as the wraith returns from whence it came. Now she HAD to find out who gave this to her, and why. They were certainly light, these delightful treats would help vastly with her mood and therefore with the conference, but she wished she could find some to take with her. Ferranifer had never before received treats or flowers or anything of that nature, considering her dark past and was a bit confused by what was occuring. 'Maybe only female deligates', she thought and stood up and opened the door. She looked longingly at the shaakolaatae treasures she left on the bed but decided to ration them along with the blood she had brought with her and headed down to see the slough.

"These are the rooms set aside for you. The conference shall begin in the morning. Is there anything further you require?"
"If there is, I will make a request at the appropriate time." Being indoors, the Scientist can no longer make a show of avoiding the light of the sun and represses an internal shudder, bowing low instead. "Thank you for the conversation--I will think about what you have related and how I can apply it to future strategies. Several important differences in viewpoint were highlighted and I will have to keep them in mind."

The sluagh looks over as Ferranifer returns. He whispers harshly. "Guest of the king or no, there will be consequences if you scream again. It is assault to my kind. Now what do you need?"

Kalamana grins broadly at the panNorm. The creature's farnk disgust was nothing but pleasure to her. It was a reaction best seen in the heat of battle but she was a servant of the king and this was his guest. A part of her missed life among her kind. That life had had no allies or diplomacy. Those not of her race had deserved only death and she had dealt it gladly. Of course, those days had ended badly because of that very mindset. There were powers in the island stronger than hers and her tribe had been bested in battle. She still did not understand the principles by which she was still allowed to live, much less live free. It would not have been her behavior had she proved victorious. Banishing such nostalgia from her mind, she nods to the ant. "Of course, madame." She scuttles off at that.

"Really", Ferranifer replied, "You amuse me, what consequences do speak of?"

The sluagh turns abruptly on his heels. He steps into the shadows of a corner. The sluagh seems to vanish into the shadows, hidden from even vampiric sight. Perhaps he's simply teleported somehow. A few servants glance over, trying to hide their smirks. A few of the servants whisper among themselves as they pass.

"...lucky he was willing to forgive her assaulting him one time..."

"...the ear of the kind..."

"...good thing the lady seems so fond..."

After a few minutes, Kalamana scuttles through, glanceing at Ferranifer with a light smirk. "You're the vampire who assaulted the sluagh? A brave woman indeed." The monstrous woman narrows her eyes a little. "It is nice to have a guest, for once, who does not bother with the non-sense of diplomacy."

Ferranifer examined the odd creature admiring the work and wondering if it was natural or magically created. "Diplomacy isn't my forte, that's the pervue of the Queen. I only instruct on proper dress and ettequite I don't follow it.", she ran her eyes over the creature again, "Are you natural or were created?" Ferranifer was already liking this no nonsense creature.

Kalamana looks Ferranifer over a long moment. "I am natural. Are you?" She offers a pasty hand. "I'm Kalamana. I have been meaning to ask what exactly you did to that sluagh. The whole palace is talking about it. If you tried to feed from him, I would advise against it. The effect on vampires is...less than pleasant. There's a few theories why. If you can safely feed from elves, that would be an argument against a blood relation."

Kalamana starts to scuttle along. "Walk with me. You seem to be looking for something. I probably know where it is. I've lived in this palace for...too long, honestly."

Ferranifer was pleased to find someone she speak to easily and followed Kalamana. "Natural", she said thoughtfully, "a good question. I was born a long time ago. This is my..." she stopped, trying to think, "well this makes quite a few bodies I've had. My necromantic magic allows me to prevent myself from behing destroyed and possess other bodies when the need arises. And there is some debate in my region as to wether or not vampires are natural. I was turned at a young age", at this a note of bitterness crept into Ferranifer's voice, "so I can't tell you if one would consider me natural or not now. To answer your question I can and have fed from elves. I find the that thier blood is a bit thin and prefer that of humans but during the times that I was hunted..well..as they say in highport, any port in a storm." she said grinning.

"As a matter of fact I am looking for a couple of things. I need to find that pooka, I think I owe her an explanation as for the second, well. I found something that someone dropped off for me. A wonderous delicacy. Shaakolatae I think it's called. C H O C O L A T E."

Kalamana smirks. "Chocolate. It might be in the kitchen. I wouldn't know. I only eat flesh." She doesn't specify what kind of flesh. She might just mean pork, beef, and the like. Then again...she might not. "It is possible for vampires to drink from fae. Most fae, in any event. But the effects can be quite damaging psychologically. One experiences intense disorientation and the loss of any any ability to resist fairy magic you might ordinarily have. Anti-magic against other sorcerers works as normal but it will not work against fae mages for another day. Hallucinations are always present and unpredictable forms of temporary magic. In some cases, it has been known to cause permanent derangements. So if you ever find yourself in a position to kill a fairy, resist the urge to eat your kill."

Kalamana scuttles in silence towards the kitchen. The servants clear out as she enters, leaving her and Ferranifer with the run of the place. "What do you need to explain to a pooka? I highly doubt she has ever explained anything clearly to you. Of course, she will be what she is."

"I don't think I could stomach fae anyway. Elven blood is light enough. And if your worried about my biting into the guests, don't. I've brought some bottles with me that should hold me for awhile. At my age I don't need to feed too often."

"As for the pooka, well, I think I was a bit harsh.", she sounded like someone else already. What did she care if she was harsh, she never did before. "Actually I got angry. She reminded of a past I've left behind." 'I have left it haven't I?' she thought, 'but didn't I tell that creature that I'm the dark mistress? Have I let go?' She sat in confusion, not sure what she was or who she was anymore.

Kalamana shrugs. "It's just a pooka. I don't take them too seriously. Just noise.The only thing they need is gags and cages if you ask me." The monster pulls open the cabinets, looking around. "Ah, chocolate." She tosses a fair amount of it to Kalamana. "So do you need anything else tonight?"

Kalamana scuttles back into the hall. "You might want to visit the panNorm. The Iuthans are all shut away in their rooms and the representatives from Ctan and Aelosia aren't here yet." Kalamana laughs a little. "I just noticed that no actual elves are present at the moment."

"Oh I wasn't born elven, but I was three or four times and I serve a half-elven Queen. I'm afraid I'm not exactly sure what's required of me, I got the missive and it sounded intriguing so came. I will have the support of the Queen of course, I'm her high advisor. Should I meet with these other people?" Ferranifer asked as she opened the chocolate and took a bite. It was delectible as it melted in her mouth. "I still want to see that pooka though, it's a rather intriguing one. We have them in our nation but we don't see them often, sometimes not at all for long periods of time. This is the first time I actually got to talk to one."

Kalamana nodded. "I would go introduce yourself to the other people before things get fully started tomorrow. I'm going to bed. The only ways I've ever found pooka wouldn't exactly help your friendship with this creature. Before I go, though, you never did tell me what you actually did with that sluagh."

Kalamana starts to scuttle away before pausing and looking back. "If you want pooka, they're two percent of our population. I'm sure you can find another, or come back and catch one that's not under the king's direct protection"

"Well I'm not sure what I did to the sluagh, though from what I overheard from the servants I guess my yelling at him is what upset him. My own hearing is exceptionaly sharp as well, but someone yelling doesn't bother me. Baghtru likes to say that I can hear a flea fart on the other side of the mansion, but then what do you expect from half-orcs." Ferranifer shrugged. "Could I ask you the location and direction to the PanNorm deligates before you retire?"

Kalamana nods. "I'm sure that's what it was. They can't stand loud noises. The panNorm are just two doors down from you." With that, she scuttles off.

((OOC: Waiting for Ma-Tek to come in and Ctan to arrive and will then post the actual conference. I know Aelosia might have to come late cause of the other thread.))

Ferranifer made her way back to her room then approached the door to the PanNorm deligates and knocked lightly on it.

After Kalamana leaves, the Scientist spends her time scuttling about her quarters, rearranging everything to meet with higher efficiencies and better volume usage. In a human, this would be considered obsessive-compulsive. However, it perfectly fits the psychological standard for a spacedy ant--everything has its place, and that place is designed by its purpose and the need to access it efficiently in relation to other things. Assembly-line or office space feng shui.

There is also that losing oneself in work can be somewhat... therapeutic, especially when confused, alone, and scared, no matter how mildly.
Ferranifer made her way back to her room then approached the door to the PanNorm deligates and knocked lightly on it.
At the sound of the knock, the panNorm doesn't bother looking up--not having to, thanks to the nature of her eyes--but instead fishes her translator cube out of the harness around her thorax and places it firmly between her mandibles, against her maxillae. "Enter!"

She swept into the room, quickly accessing the creature there. She had worked with many subterrainian species in her time and this one reminded her strongly of two or three of them. No shock or odd looks came to her only a warm greeting, beginning with a shallow curtsey, "Greetings, I'm Ferranifer Melbourn of Dragonsreach, I thought I should meet the other delegates, such as your austere self, before the conference begins."

The blue-carapaced insectoid notes the person entering, and an odd sense of relief that it is only an endoskeletal in appearance--a known quantity.

Of course, appearances here are probably always deceiving, as I have been warned. Bowing shortly, she takes advantage of her position across the room to not extend a hand, although she is tactful enough to not let her current lack of enthusiasm for guests creep into her artificial voice. "Scientist 82142895 of the Blue Mother of Us All, representing the panNorm in this endeavour."

Antennae wave unreadably at the 'austere' comment, probably related to the soft modulated chuckle that the box emits. "Austerity is a virtue of my kind, yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ferranifer Melbourn of Dragonsreach." One of the advantages of talking through a box is that as long as one keeps it out of one's voice, it is extremely easy to lie.

Ferranifer resisted the urge to wince at the mechanically reproduced voice. Her extremely sensitive hearing didn't seem to appreciate the odd quality it produced. Half tempted to cast a spell to understand and communicate with the creature, she resisted, not sure if it was wise to ask it not to use it's device. Perhaps they preferred or were even proud of awful sounding thing. "It's my understanding that this is to begin in the morning, have you been given any further information beyond the missive we received?"

The ant-like creature shakes her bulbous head, mimicing the human gesture. "No, I have no additional information besides that of a very brief gloss of this nation's cultural overlay and how it differs from my own. As to the timetable of operations... I have heard nothing more than what you have just said."

The spacedy ant continues to putter about, rearranging things into more efficient patterns and leaving alone what she can neither identify nor find a use for, giving the room a mildly schizophrenic atmosphere, still retaining half of its original intended layout in a sort of pleasant organic beauting while the other half has been transformed into something almost mechanically aligned and optimized, but still perhaps more organic than mechanistic, relying on intuitive knowledge of systems and usages rather than deep thought. It clashes either way. Noting that the guest hasn't left yet, the Scientist decides to make an effort at hospitality--that is what is diplomatically appropriate. "Is there anything I can do for you while you are here to make you more comfortable?"

Ferranifer was just watching as the creature created a terrible mess of elegant decor. Similar creatures that she had known had a pensiont for the same, but she had never bothered to ask why. Then again, at that time in her life she hadn't cared. "Might I ask you a question? Similar .... species .... in my own nation have a habit of.." she made a vague gesture towards the jumble, "..arranging things in this fashion, might I ask why that is?"

The Scientist lowers her head and raises her arms, rising up a bit on her legs to make a passable mimicry of a human shrug. "It is our nature to arrange things as they would be most efficient. From the tesselation of hexagonal cells to the orderly arrangement of even these things, we find efficiency in form and layout... pleasant. Why do members of some species enjoy placing things in a chaotic manner that appeases their sense of aestetics?"

Ferranifer had no idea what half of what the creature said meant, but at least she understood that last part. "Well in certain species color and pattern stimulus give different responses, pleasant or unpleasant, therefore the being of those species, either by species or by individual taste, arrange things so as to cause a pleasing effect upon perception. Typically this is done in thier home, den, warren or other place of permanent residence so-as to make it more appealing to return and to stay within that place. I suppose placing things in your sense of order is to provoke the same response then."

"Essentially, yes." The panNorm nods her blue head. "Optimally, in my culture, form follows function. While I cannot change the form of any individual item in this room to better fit their function and naught else, I can rearrange the relations of the items to better fit with their use and access when considered holistically. While each individual component's form may not inexorably follow function, at least the gross layout of the room can."

She was beginning to enjoy the conversation. She was learning something of this people, "Excuse me a moment", she said and left, only to return a moment later with a glass of thick red liquid. She was about to say something then stopped and mumbled something in a strange language that seemed to set the nerves of the creature tingling. "There, you can remove the device, I'll be able to understand you now and you me. I fear it's a bit irritating to my ears. Tell me, do you believe that your form was made for idealic function in the nation to which your native?"

A feeler. And as I am not in close communication with the rest of the panNorm, I am succeptible... The Blue guardedly removes the translator box from its mandibles and replaces it in its little pouch on her harness of black webbing. Her natural speech sounds like several Geiger counters clicking and clacking simultaneously, but also covers the visual range via antennae movement, olfactory cues via pheromones, and even a varying amount of radio-wave 'telepathy.'

"My form is the product of millions of years of evolution to tightly controlled conditions. My people were responsible for operating the navigational and computational systems of Alpha, and over time we adapted primarily to that purpose. While the basic structure of our form is defined by our ancestry in the True Norm, the details and optimalization are defined wholesale by our function. Even given that my form was not specifically 'made' or constructed, it has adapted towards its idealic form/function relationship."

"My apologies", Ferranifer said, feeling much better now that the magic produced the understanding of the voice. "When I said made I assumed a religious aspect of creation. Perhaps your culture has no religion or is not responsible for your creation." She ran over it's answer..true norm..pan norm. "So your people came from one species which then evolved into several different species according to the function it needed to perform."

"No offese is taken; spontaneous generation appears to be a rather widespread misconception, barring a few unexplainable exceptions." The ant waves its antennae and shifts its center of balance in a way that the magically attuned Ferranifer can identify as vaguely analogous to making a wry face. "The Ancestors who originally launched Alpha were of the True Norm. They were not optimized for spacefaring and as such diverged into the various forms of the panNorm which were. Not being as successful as the panNorm, the True Norm went extinct despite--or perhaps because of--its best efforts to keep its genome pure. Inbetween their extinction and our realization of the true nature of the panNorm is a large expanse of rather violent history..."

The Scientist buzzes her maxillae--a chuckle, or a laugh--added to her continued wry movements as she clicks some more. "So, in a short answer to your question, 'yes.'"

Ferranifer sipped the thick red liquid thoughtfully. "It would seem a common theme in most every species I've known that violence is prevelent. At least in those with higher thought processes. Curious that the intellectuals have the bloodiest histories. Of course the intellectuals also have thier own ideals and agendas." With that she stood up, "Well I'll take no more of your time. I'm sure you'll want to get settled in and rested."

The panNorm idly tastes the air with her antennae as she bows shortly again. Heme? "Violence, perhaps not. Conflict, certainly... but conflict not moderated leads to violence, unfortunately. Good evening, Ferranifer Melbourn of Dragonsreach."

"Good night, Scientist 82142895 of the Blue Mother of Us All, of the panNorm", she replied and stepped into the hallway, politely closing the door behind her. She then went to her room at sat in the chair, watching out the window and awaiting the dawn.

A couple boggans stand in the field where they waved the conical vehicle from Ctan down. For about three minutes, there is no one else in the field. A carriage hurriedly rides up and the footman lets a sidhe lady out. She is lovely for her people, which means more lovely than any human could ever be without magic or hyper-tech. Her elegantly pointed ears taper upwards and her golden yellow hair shines as it waves over her bare shoulders. Her skin is like pearl and her body a perfect hourglass figure. She wears a black dress with silver lining, strapless, low cut, and with a slit up to the right thigh. Her heels sink into the dirt of the field as she approaches, curtseying to the visiting elf as she takes him in. "Good evening, m'lord. I am the Lady Janice ni Eiluned, His Majesty's Seneschal. I was sent to personally escort you to the palace. Do you have any bags?" As she speaks, a rather cramped troll disembarks from her carriage, stretching his huge frame.

The Elf looks faintly disturbed to see the troll, but recovers his expression quickly: he actually smiles. "Good to see such diversity, Lady Janice ni Eiluned. I have no bags... I prefer to travel light. I'm sure anything I need can be purchased or obtained here, which I believe to be far more polite than hauling personal belongings along with me. - You have a lovely land," he adds, widening his smile with a slight bow of his head.

Janice smiles gently. "Why thank you, m'lord." She pretends not to notice his reaction to the troll. "For my part, I have nothing to compare it with. I have never left the broders of Bilbtoria, much less the empire. But come, we have rooms prepared." She gestures towards the carriage, as the footman opens the door for the elf from Ma-tek.. "Is there anything you would wish to know of our people to prepare for tomorrow?"

((And I feel like an idiot for having put Ctan in that earlier post. Type-o on my part. No wonder you thought you were being ignored.))

Janice smiles gently. "Why thank you, m'lord." She pretends not to notice his reaction to the troll. "For my part, I have nothing to compare it with. I have never left the broders of Bilbtoria, much less the empire. But come, we have rooms prepared." She gestures towards the carriage, as the footman opens the door for the elf from Ma-tek.. "Is there anything you would wish to know of our people to prepare for tomorrow?"

((And I feel like an idiot for having put Ctan in that earlier post. Type-o on my part. No wonder you thought you were being ignored.))

[OOC: No problem! I did indeed see the word 'Ctan' and immediately just skipped over the post in my search for the one in response to mine... 'tis why I always quote: that way, the person looking for my response can look for their own country name, regardless of whether I type it or not. Of course, that can get awfully cluttery... like when I go on at length OOCly. So I'll... uh, stop.]

IC:

"Could I perhaps have access to some of your textbooks designed for children?" he began as he stepped up into the carriage, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips - he hadn't seen such a method of travel in many years - going on to add, "-as I often find that's the best way to learn about a new nation or culture: after all, children known the least."

He noted silently that even then, it was somewhat difficult to understand a foreign culture; sometimes differences were so obscure that nobody felt the need to even remark on them in the ordinary course of events. After all, he considered, it's only different to an outsider.

Janice nods a little. "I'm sure that can be arranged." Following him into the carriage, she sits with simple grace. "Our grade school children learn art, literature, and play, mostly play. There are a wide variety of games taught, from Fychell to jousting. They learn a little history and of the responsibilities of leadership. I'm sure some stray books on it can be found, though the use of text books is rather rare. Direct instruction from another's life experience is both more common and more strongly encouraged. Normally, only scholars have frequent recourse to the written word." She pauses, glancing out the window as the carriage begins to move, folding her hands elegantly in her lap. "I take it, then, that you plan to base your study of this question around culture and history?"

Janice nods a little. "I'm sure that can be arranged." Following him into the carriage, she sits with simple grace. "Our grade school children learn art, literature, and play, mostly play. There are a wide variety of games taught, from Fychell to jousting. They learn a little history and of the responsibilities of leadership. I'm sure some stray books on it can be found, though the use of text books is rather rare. Direct instruction from another's life experience is both more common and more strongly encouraged. Normally, only scholars have frequent recourse to the written word." She pauses, glancing out the window as the carriage begins to move, folding her hands elegantly in her lap. "I take it, then, that you plan to base your study of this question around culture and history?"

Fárë gave a soft, almost musical laugh. It's not an impolite laugh; it's rather merry, indeed, and gives the impression of one not amused, but simply pleased at the question. "No, no, no, of course not. We in the Commonality know only too well that true heritage can be obscured by history, which often lies. And culture changes like the switching of the direction of the wind; it is not the culture or the history which proves a heritage. No, my good lady, that is merely a case of genetics. - Are you aware that we have a Quendi-descended species in the Commonality? They are not Elves themselves," a larger smile flickers over his features, "but they are indeed related quite closely to us. The story goes that they were given the choice, by one of the Valar, of remaining what they were or becoming something new; for whatever reason, they chose the new over the old. The story is long, complex, and rather beautiful - but I digress."

He shrugs. "Of cultural matters I could speak at great length. - Actually, some of my family would no doubt claim I could speak at great length regarding anything..."

Janice smiles infectiously. "And yet I am sure it would be most emlightening to here you speak. How different is this race you speak of from your people? I know little of the laws of inheritance. And, might I ask, who are these Valar you speak of?"

Janice smiles infectiously. "And yet I am sure it would be most emlightening to here you speak. How different is this race you speak of from your people? I know little of the laws of inheritance. And, might I ask, who are these Valar you speak of?"

"The Valar are Eru's first children, if you will. They sang the world and the universe into being - they were Eru's chorus, you might say. To explain further would take a great deal of time, indeed! But suffice to say that some of my kind in the Commonality - although not I - were alive to see the light of the Two Trees, many many thousands of years ago. They remember the Valar - as do some in Menelmacar, which is where my people, now known as the Noldorin Iluvauromeni, were largely born. We followed the Nenyans, many of whom were our family members - they were changed before our very eyes - from Menelmacar to our new lands. We breed slowly, but in the twenty thousand years since my ancestors - who still live, of course - left Menelmacar, we have grown in number considerably. Still, the Humans outnumber us in the Commonality by a great number.

"The Nenyans are different to us in many ways. They are merely mortal, and they suffer the same Doom as all other mortals. They do not slumber in the Halls of Mandos, should they be killed; we know not where they depart to, for it is not revealed to us or to them. They always have bright, amber eyes; their vision is excellent, in some cases superior even to our own. But they do not have our hearing ability; and they breed even more slowly than we, as the average Nenyan woman may concieve only once in her lifetime. Still, they live longer than Humans - often to three hundred Solar years.

"Like us, they do not fall ill, and they do not become inebriated when they drink alcohol. Like us, they are light on their feet - a Nenyan may run through the snow without leaving a single footmark, just as may an Elf. This is due to our hollow bones, although the bone structure is still roughly equally strong as in a Human. I fear I do not know your biology well enough to make the comparison anything but to a Human, but I trust that Human biology is well enough known to most.

"Like us, they have a love for the arts; they are great singers, artists, and dare I say it, scientists. Although we do not call it science - that is a wholly cold and empty term. It is Art; the study of the effects of the Music of Eru."

Janice pauses, considering all that was said. "We have tales of similar beings to your Valar, called the Tuatha de Danaan. I cannot say if any now living have walked with them, for much of memory was lost with out exilt from out forgotten homeland. We remember only that it was a place of unspeakable beauty and power."

Janice smiles a little, tilting her head curiously. "I don't know what to make of the change in these Nenyans. It is fascinating to say the least. There are mortal beings who ahre some of our gifts, but their ancestry is part fey and part human so it is a different matter."

As the carriage pulls up before the palace, the footman gets the door for them.

Janice pauses, considering all that was said. "We have tales of similar beings to your Valar, called the Tuatha de Danaan. I cannot say if any now living have walked with them, for much of memory was lost with out exilt from out forgotten homeland. We remember only that it was a place of unspeakable beauty and power."

Janice smiles a little, tilting her head curiously. "I don't know what to make of the change in these Nenyans. It is fascinating to say the least. There are mortal beings who ahre some of our gifts, but their ancestry is part fey and part human so it is a different matter."

As the carriage pulls up before the palace, the footman gets the door for them.

The Elf, ever the gentleman, politely waits for Janice to disembark first before he follows her. He's a talkative person, however, (as if that wasn't obvious already) so he keeps speaking. "After you," he offers first, continuing with, "It's a popular misconception that Nenyans and Humans are related. Indeed, our own history books used to teach that very 'fact'. But it was a misinformation to attempt to bring Nenyankind and Humanity closer together; that's changed now. The Nenyans accept that they need to be honest: they are not related to Humanity at all. Only to Elves. Some Nenyans claim that they are the natural 'next step', but that's open to debate."

He laughs quietly at that, although it's not immediately obvious why.

Janice alights graciously from the carriage, waiting for Fare. "So tell me of yourself, lord. What brings you here to partake in this research? Surprisingly enough, you are the only Elf present as of yet. Aelosia intends to send someone but not until other business has been created. In truth, I was expecting the conference to consist entirely of elves and sidhe but such is not the case. The other two delegations here consist of a panNorm Scientist and a seemingly human woman from Dragonsreach. I found the last choice particularly odd, since Dragonsreach is a nation rules by elvenkind. But tell me, good sir, what do you expect this conference to produce?"

The lady folds her white hands demurely in front of her waist. Her posture is always perfectly, effortlessly, almost impossibly so, and she moves with a grace born of nobility's dream embodied. Angular features study the elven man as he desceneds from the carriage. The footman shuts the door behind him and the ornate conveyance is driven off across the grounds. Janice watches it go for a moment before turning towards the gate. "I shall show you to your room."

Two troll guards part for the new arrivals as servants open the gates from within. The spacious and finely decorated entrance hall bears the paintings of all the kings of Bilbtoria along its walls.

"I just noticed that no actual elves are present at the moment."

OOC: Sorry I've missed out on this for a while, I'm catching up now but I've been pretty busy with a number of threads. Aelosia may not be around till later today or longer because she doesn't get online as much.

Oh, and quick note: The Iuthian Scientist was described as "Elven".

((OOC: That's cool. Aelosia isn't showing up until the end of the Carnivale Thread, i think.))

Janice alights graciously from the carriage, waiting for Fare. "So tell me of yourself, lord. What brings you here to partake in this research? Surprisingly enough, you are the only Elf present as of yet. Aelosia intends to send someone but not until other business has been created. In truth, I was expecting the conference to consist entirely of elves and sidhe but such is not the case. The other two delegations here consist of a panNorm Scientist and a seemingly human woman from Dragonsreach. I found the last choice particularly odd, since Dragonsreach is a nation rules by elvenkind. But tell me, good sir, what do you expect this conference to produce?"

The lady folds her white hands demurely in front of her waist. Her posture is always perfectly, effortlessly, almost impossibly so, and she moves with a grace born of nobility's dream embodied. Angular features study the elven man as he desceneds from the carriage. The footman shuts the door behind him and the ornate conveyance is driven off across the grounds. Janice watches it go for a moment before turning towards the gate. "I shall show you to your room."

Two troll guards part for the new arrivals as servants open the gates from within. The spacious and finely decorated entrance hall bears the paintings of all the kings of Bilbtoria along its walls.

The Elf, who oozes graze himself, gives a small shrug. "I am Noldor. I love to learn. I spend most of my days studying, when not taking care of House matters. I am one thousand seven hundred sixteen Solar years old, and never has a day passed when I did not find something to wonder at, to learn about, to grow from. - But this matter is of special importance to the Iluvauromeni. Were it not for other, urgent matters, I am sure the Commonality Executive Council would have dispatched someone under the official flag of the Commonality, as opposed to myself - but I think this is to my benefit, especially when I am exposed to such lovely company."

He gives a small bow from the waist, smiling openly. "We have had dealings with both Aelosia and the panNorm before. I recall well the day when I heard of the arrival of the panNorm in our solar system; I also remember the reports that came from INN Solar regarding what our people found aboard their vessel... S-14, I believe it was called. I much look forward to meeting one of their kind."

Janice glides through the halls, moving towards the chambers set aside for the visiting Noldor. "I am Eiluned. I also have a passion for knowledge, particularly knowledge of hidden and secret things. Tell me, m'lord, how are the Noldor distinct from the other elves? I know that it is not the name of your house or of your nation."

Janice nods graciously. "We are honored you view the matter as one of such import. Many of the nobles of the court, especially those of the more liberal Houses, do not share your King Frederick's view on the importance of this matter." She shrugs lightly. "Fortunately, His Majesty is not swayed by such short-sighted council."

She tilts her head lightly. "I myself have not yet met the panNorm. From what little I have heard of their race, it shall prove to be a most...interesting...experience."

Janice glides through the halls, moving towards the chambers set aside for the visiting Noldor. "I am Eiluned. I also have a passion for knowledge, particularly knowledge of hidden and secret things. Tell me, m'lord, how are the Noldor distinct from the other elves? I know that it is not the name of your house or of your nation."

Janice nods graciously. "We are honored you view the matter as one of such import. Many of the nobles of the court, especially those of the more liberal Houses, do not share your King Frederick's view on the importance of this matter." She shrugs lightly. "Fortunately, His Majesty is not swayed by such short-sighted council."

She tilts her head lightly. "I myself have not yet met the panNorm. From what little I have heard of their race, it shall prove to be a most...interesting...experience."

Footfalls silent as the touch of a leaf against the forest floor, Fárë let his eyebrows rise and fall curiously. "They do not? We Iluvauromeni have a saying I have heard often in foreign tongues and cultures, so it seems a common assumption: 'The blood tells.' If we do not know our heritage, we cannot guard against its shortcomings.

"The Noldor are descendants of, or in some cases personally, saw the Light of the Two Trees before the Sun and the Moon were put in the sky to divide the day from the night. The Light first shone upon only the Undying Lands, but Melkor-who-became-Morgoth, in a cowardly attack with a single accomplice, mortally wounded the Two Trees, bringing darkness to the Undying Lands. The Valar put the Sun, a Maia, in the sky, and one of the Maia, who loved the Sun greatly, was set to carry the Moon through the heavens, forever chasing his dearest love. Once a month, when the Moon cannot be seen, they spend time in each others arms each evening come, when he finally catches her. Then, the Moon begins his chase again, after the glory of his love. - Or so I was taught. - But I move away from your question. The Noldor are descended (or actually are, depending on age, of course) from the second host of Elves to make the westward journey from Cuiviénen, led by Finwë.

"The Noldor have a love of knowledge - the word Noldor, from the Quenya 'noldo', means 'Wise' in the sense of possessing knowledge; we are sometimes also known as the 'Deep Elves', although I'm not entirely sure why, as it is usually the Humans who use that term. We seek knowledge, and we seek to find ways to use our knowledge to create. We are, generally, dark-haired and elegantly tall. Some of us now have taken up the ancient and once-preferred tongue, Quenya, such as in the Commonality; others still use Sindarin for day-to-day fare, but still Quenya is used among all our kind for songs and great stories."

He pauses, shakes his head slightly. "We have too much history to tell in such a brief, short telling. I am sure I can arrange for texts to be sent to you, to answer your questions more thoroughly. And since our borders are now opened to all who will obey our Law, it would not be a difficult thing for yourself or any of your kind to visit. We become relaxed and calmer in our old age, we Iluvauromeni - although we were not always known as that name collectively. Why, the stories I could tell; I could speak at such great length that you would surely kill me for the boredom before the Sun could lower her body beneath the horizon twenty times."

Amusement sparkles in his vivid green eyes.

"To be compact and trim in what I say, however, my House, the Great House Aquinall, is not named in any of the Quendi tongues. It is named for the Nenyan Emperor who gave us freedom in the old Empire of the Eternal Flame, an oppressive, imperialist, warlike state that once ruled the lands the Commonality now holds. My House is loosely related to the family-line of Sirithil nos Fëanor of Menelmacar, for we of Great House Aquinall are in truth the Iluvauromeni branch of the family of Finwë, descended from or related to Finwë, who was father to Fingolfin, Fëanor, and Finarfin.

"Fëanor, who was named in Quenya Curufinwë, the former, Sindarin name given as his mother was wont to call him Fëanaro - 'Spirit of Fire' - was greatest of the Noldor, devisor of the Fëanorian script, and maker of the Silmarils. He passed unto the Halls of Mandos long ago, slain in battle. I am not descended from he, however. My lineage, personally, stems from his half-brother, Fingolfin, who was High King of the Noldor in Beleriand - who was slain by Morgoth himself in personal combat, and now slumbers in the Halls of Mandos. I am three generations removed from he, who passed from the lands of mortals well over thirty thousand years ago."

Janice guides him to the room, falling silent for a long period. "You have given me much to think about, m'lord. I shall have more gathered thoughts on the morrow." She curtseys to him with a smile. The chambers are a finely done four room suite.

Janice guides him to the room, falling silent for a long period. "You have given me much to think about, m'lord. I shall have more gathered thoughts on the morrow." She curtseys to him with a smile. The chambers are a finely done four room suite.

The Elf smiles with a bow. "My gratitude for your interested attention, good lady."

The next morning, the conference room is set up. There's a large round table with open space in the middle covered with a black tablecloth. Pitchers of water sit between the seats and each attendee has their own glass. The walls are lined with texts deemed to be useful. In front of Fare's seat are children's texts as he requested. In addition to Lady Janice and King Frederick, there are another dozen sidhe in the room, sitting quietly as they await the other guests.

Having got a good nights sleep, both Doctor Seamus Benton and Ambassador Joanna Torvek arrived early for the conference after having a good breakfast provided by the palace kitchen staff.

The Ambassador wore a simple black dress which looked rather respectable but at the same time it wasn't quite casual or formal, but somewhere in between. Her skin was slightly tanned, like the majority of Iuthians and she looked to be in her late twenties and moderately attractive, unlike the doctor who was shorter then her, Joanna was around 5'8" which was fairly normal for a Iuthian woman. The Doctor himself was a fairly short person, most Iuthian elves were considered short by most as their height averaged around 5ft. Besides that he was a young man for his species, only 130 years in age but he used his naturally long life to get an advantage over other scientists who would be growing older at a faster rate. His hair was an autumn red and his skin pale despite the warm climate of Iuthia. His choice of clothing made him look rather like a college teacher, with the clichéd leather elbows on a tweed jacket.

After taking a drink they sat down in their place next to one another and awaited the others.

Ferranifer allowed enough time for the others to rise and eat breakfast before making her way to the conference room. She is average height for a human woman with brownish red hair to her mid back. Her hazel eyes scan the two in the room as she walks in, dressed in a formal gown of local design. Her skin is unusually pale. She looks to be in her twenties, though her eyes seem strangely older. She moves with a grace that belies her apparent human heritage and makes no sound as she walks. An aura of power seems to hang about her like a mantle. She makes her way to the table curtseying appropriate to the esteemed guests of the king and takes her seat.

Over the night, the Scientists rests. "Sleep" would be an inaccurate description; "meditation" would be far more appropriate to describe the state of complete bodily rest yet constant mental activity. The mind wanders, the mind connects ideas, but the mind does not fantasize, it does not put the pieces together in ways they do not fit. A being hatched specialized, made only more specialized by a life performing a specific task, its mind is linear, logical, and almost coldly unemotional.

Almost. The emotions are subdued through years of training, yet are still most certainly there, currently dominated by a quiet unease at being a stranger in a strange land.

The next morning her eyes fail to open after failing to close and she springs back to life, the huddled bug in the corner suddenly skittering, wide awake as her circadian rhythm ticks along. Soon, she walks into the conference room, nodding respectfully to those who appear to be outsiders like her and half-bowing to those who are obviously her hosts. She does her best to avoid noticing the sidhe and the insidious effects they have on her mind; none of this is visible past the dull sheen of her compound eyes.

Ferranifer, who had been staring at the sidhe turns her head to nod at the creature respectully then returns her attention to the sidhe present. Her mind a mixture of yearning and hatred.

After a few more moments Ferranifer looked about. "So how would we like to begin. I was thinking that, perhaps, we could go over our own myths and legends concerning Sidhe and Elves and see what, if any, similarities there may be. Since most myths have thier basis in fact and many legends are true stories that have been exagerated in thier telling, I thought it might be a good place to start."

King Frederick holds up a hand to Ferranifer. "We still await the delegate from Ma-Tek."

Ferranifer nods in aquisence to the king and sits back.

The sidhe wait quietly for the elf from Ma-tek, folding delicate hand on the table.

((*Bumps*))

((I imagine the guy can only be online on certain days... so we may not see him till next week.))

[OOC: *eep!* Sorry! The days when I can post and the days when I can't aren't always the same, so, I just do my best to actually get everything posted where it has to be posted.... Rr.]

IC:

The Elf arrives at the Conference Room rather late, and, in his rapid-fire method of speaking, delivers an apology. "Sorry," is the entire contents, as he sits down. Well, mercifully brief, at least.

The Iluvauromeni-Noldo glances around the table, and calmly places his palms face-down. His eyes rest upon the Sidhe for but a moment longer than the rest of the occupants of the seating.

King Frederick nods. "You are here now. All is well. Allow us to introduce Duke Emmanuel ap Gwydion, Count Michael ap Dougal, Lord Epicurus ap Fiona, Sir Karl ap Liam, Lady Janice ni Eiluned, Countess Jennifer ni Ailil, Lord Robert ap Balor, Lady Davida ni Leanhaun, Diuc Samuel ap Dairrean, Landgreve Helga ni Aesin, Lord Paulus ap Beaumayn, Sir Dmitri ap Varich, and Serendipity ni Scathach." The king gestures to each of the seated sidhe as he says his or her name. "They are all respected scholars of their respective houses. Perhaps our respected guests will introduce themselves?" He smiles charmingly.

The Blue stands, bows shortly and quickly, speaks--"I am Scientist 82142895 of the Blue Mother of Us All, representing the panNorm"--then sits back down quickly, efficiently. As there is no way a giant ant-like organism is going to fit in a chair designed for humanoids, she sits by folding her legs underneath her, causing her to sit somewhat lower than everyone else and mildly resembling some sort of insectoid supplicant to an altar. She keeps her eyes above the level of the table, however, and can see, so she is not overly put out.

The king nods. "Is there some accomadation we can provide to make your sitting more comfortable?"

The Blue shakes her head. "I am well, King Frederick; although, if your assistants could procure or engineer something along the lines of a backless couch of sorts, I would be most grateful. Failing that, I will adapt." Her synthesized voice is quite pleasant as compared to its business-like tone the previous day.

The king whispers to a servant in a corner. About fiftenn minutes later, several humans carry in just such a piece of furniture.

Ferranifer winces as the blue speaks, the voice box producing tones beyond human and elven hearing but not beyond her own. She stands, curtsying, "I'm Ferranifer Melbourne, of Dragonsreach", then retakes her seat.

The king whispers to a servant in a corner. About fiftenn minutes later, several humans carry in just such a piece of furniture.
The Blue nods her thanks, then shifts over to the couch, shifting a bit to match its rectilinear shape as opposed to the usual oblong panNorm couch. Thinking a moment, she raises one antennae in thought. What if I had described a normal couch in detail? An... odd potentiality.

Seeing Ferranifer wince, the Scientist taps her antennae together and removes the translator cube from between her mandibles. "Click clacketyclickclickclackety clack clack. (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/s14/bugspeak.wav)" I am sorry, but I do not think everyone here understands my language...

Ferranifer nods, "I know, I was thinking about that last night while I awaited the dawn. I could make everyone understand, but require a spell for each person in the room. I'll get through as is." She smiles at the blue then looks at the next person to introduce themself.

"Spell? As in magic?" The Doctor sounded a little excited, his eyes filled with wonder at the idea. "I have heard of Iuthian scientists who have tried to study such arts but with limited sucess. Even a student we sent to the Shentavo Academy proved to be somewhat... resistant to learning it."

Turning to her side, Ambassador Joanna Torvek (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Iuthia/Characters/HumanFemale.jpg) stared at the Iuthian scientist who only even looked elven because of his ears... having taken on alot of Iuthia's culture in his time. She then formally introduced the two.

"You'll have to excuse my learned friend here, he gets distracted easily. I'm Ambassador Joanna Torvek of the Iuthian Diplomatic Corps and this is Doctor Seamus Benton, our best Elven genealogy expert. Together we represent Iuthia in this studies and hope to answer some questions as to how Elves became over 3% of Iuthia's population and where they may have come from." She took a drink from her glass of water. "Please, continue with whatever you are doing... though I hope whatever this magic thing is about isn't hazardous to our health."

Ferranifer ponder his words. "No magic, how odd. If you've never had magic then how did you heal your injured and your sick? You fight wars with only swords? How do you experiment and seek other paths of knowledge if you never had those learned in the arts? As for doing what I was doing, well, one does not cast in the company of a King and his Guards lightly. It would not harm you. As you saw I understood Scientist 82142895 of the Blue Mother of Us All perfectly fine. But as I seem the only one discomforted by the device then I wouldn't presume to do anything without the Kings permission."

"Magic is something people from others lands dream about and something which Iuthian's only hear about through foriegn media. Iuthia has always survived from it's ability to build tools and master sciences. Magic is as alien to us as our panNorm friends here are." Saemus smiled. "Though I find it odd that you cannot imagine a society without magic... even someone such as yourself must know that there ways to work without such conveniences. I imagine not everyone in your nation is taught such arts."

"No, certainly not. But for centuries it was those who studied the art that learned the valuable lessons which could later be taught to others. Without those of the art to study and experiment then we would not have learned of the nature of things." Ferranifer thought for a bit, "Yes, everything that's advanced was learned by those of the art, then passed onto others. I find it amazing that you learned such things without the benefit of magic."

Lady Janice looks up. "We would not exist in a world without magic. We are magic. It is not a tool to use but the very essence of all we are, were, or ever shall be."

The king nods a little to Janice's words. "We do not object to your spellworking, Ferranifer."

Ferranifer moves from one person to the next casting her spell. It's obvious that it's the same spell in each case. To those unfamiliar with magic it gives them a tingling sensation and makes the hair on thier neck stand on end. When she's done, everyone in the room is perfectly able to understand everyone else, regardless of the language they speak. "Ahhh", she says, "much better." As she moves to sit she sets her water and glass to one side. "Now there's no need for translaters and metal boxes that hurt the ears", she says and smiles.

Frederick nods. "We thank you, Ferranifer."

Duke Emmanuel speaks first. "I am open to a...dim possibility of a common origin. But, in truth, I believe the similarity in appearance to be coincidental. The ancient legends of Lord Gwydion's day are not consistent with what we know of elves and the history of sidhe rule is traced from the judgment of the gods upon Gwydion."

"I can give you the history of the elven people of my region. Prior to that it's myth and legend passed down from generation of elf to the next. But I am not so sure that the Sidhe here would like to hear it. I can assure you, only, that the history is verifiable. As for anything prior", Ferranifer shrugged, "well, all legends and myths have thier basis in fact. The difficulty is in seperating the truth from the exagerations and fictions that were added later."

Lady Janice smirks faintly. "There is no knowledge I do not wish."

OOC: This would be a good time to point out that generally due to Iuthia's background; a complete lack of magic and the introduction of the pariah gene into the Iuthian genetics many years ago by the Ctan, they are generally resistant to many forms of magic, more specifically mental magic but they have a resistance for most forms. Think of them as all being a little like dwarves in that respect.

I'll leave it to you as to whether the magic works... but it would need a conciderable additional boost to work on the Iuthians. This was the case when Michael Willis became a student at the Rave Shentavo academy (an old thread) and couldn't learn magic and when one of the vampires kicked him too hard (breaking his ribs) healing magic took longer and hurt more. In a sense the original idea was to resist against players who abused it, but it's evolved into a fact about Iuthians. We not only don't practice magic; but were incapable of doing so.

"Well, in Iuthia we've always depended on our mundane observations and instead we wouldn't have such conveniences to help with such problems. Perhaps magic is a science we have not heard of, but it's one we ultimately don't need. We have acheived much without it."

(OOC: Ferranifer won't force him. As I see it, as long as he's willing it will work. It's a simple spell, not an attack and she has as much power as needed for it to work. I would treat it as Drow resistance, it'll work if they accept the spell but if not expecting it or resisting it's more likely to fail than not. But it's as much your choice as mine.)

OOC: Drow have a choice to lower their resistance, allowing them to use both healing spells and resistance. However, in the Iuthian society it's like Dwarves in the respect that Iuthians always naturally resistant regardless of benevolent spells. Drow have alot of spell casters so they aren't a good comparison, however Dwarves generally shun magic and have trouble with it in any case.

Also note I didn't say force; the two are quite willing to have a spell cast before them as they would find it interesting. I mearly pointed out that as a spell caster you would notice the resistance and would have to work harder to achieve the same result. It shouldn't have a bad effect, it's just that bit harder.

The Noldo shakes his head slightly when Ferranifer pauses before him to cast the spell.

His eyes dance with amusement as he speaks.

"I... wear a translation device of my own. Otherwise, I would understand absolutely nothing that anyone present would say. Nor would you understand me, I suspect." The Elf gestures faintly towards the panNorm. "We have had dealings with the panNorm in the past. Their own translation devices proved invaluable in learning their langauge - although I am not certain they were aware that we were listening so very carefully." He smiles, and bows his head slightly, respectfully to the panNorm delegate. "I trust you understand my words well enough?"

[OOC: For the ever-curious:

The 'sound system', if you will, is sewn into the shoulders of his garment. This directs sound via a contained 'envelope' - sound waves contained inside a laser beam - at each person in a room, based on facial structure as compared to known geographical genetic traits. If someone does not conform to the predescribed parameters, no translation occurs until such time as that person speaks, and their language is positively identified. Any nation inside the solar system using EM communications has been 'listened' to by ICEL, and their language analyzed and compared to other, known languages by the ICEL philologists; this means that our diplomats essentially speak every known language - using the translators. However, most of the diplomats also learn languages themselves, as being able to speak a language and think in it are two different things.

The actual translation, however, is done by a small implant attached to the nervous system via the spinal cord, at the first vertebrae. The translated material is then sent either directly into the nervous system (to the language center of the brain via the auditory cortex), or to the shoulder-mounted sound units.]

(OOC: Ahh, yeah dwarves irritate Ferranifer no end ;) It might have taken more than one cast for it to work then.)

Helga's eyes narrow as the Iuthian speaks. The heavily muscled blond sidhe is dressed in a sleeveless brown leather tunic and two panels of fur coming down before and behind her lap, leaving the sides of her legs exposed. A fur undergarment protects her modesty for when the panels should fail to. Her boots are brown leather as well, with fur lining. The woman's expression hardens into a light frown.

Lady Janice arches a brow ever so faintly before turning back to Ferranifer. "Please, cast your spell, my lady. The beauty and wonder of magic are irreplaceable treasures to any people."

"I trust you understand my words well enough?"
The Blue intentionally raises one antennae in something resembling an arched eyebrow, then clicks in her native language. Of course, given the wonderful "unexplainable phenomenon" of your science. However, as it appears it is unnecessary, could you please deactivate your device? It is mildly distracting, and we have all been forced to adapt our ways to better appease others...

She half-nods the side of her insectoid head towards Ferranifer and buzzes her maxillae softly. The concept imparted by the last is a slight chuckle, perhaps slightly unimpressed.

Ferranifer stands and casts her spell as requested. Her sensitive hearing now no longer under the irritating assault the so many don't hear. "My thanks for your patience with me, but my hearing is sensitive."

Janice inclines her head lightly. "Of course."

The Elf frowns - it's not a large frown, especially, but rather a tiny downturn of his lips and the slightest crease of his forehead. "In the interest of harmony," he eventually agrees, after several long seconds of contemplation.

Frederick nods. "Very well. Now that that is taken care of, where were we?"

((*bump*))

(OOC: I was wondering what happened to this. I'm just waiting for the arrivals like Ferranifer was told to do.)

((The Ma-tek guy arrived already))

(OOC: Sorry, I thought there was more than one we were waiting on. My apologies.)

Ferranifer looks around the table then at Frederick, "Well I believe were about to get underway. I had suggested", she said, then addressing the others assembled, "reviewing our legends and myths, then going on to our history. Myths and legends, after all, have thier basis in fact."

Frederick nods. "This, we can readily agree to."

Janice smiles lightly. "Quite."

Jennifer pauses a moment, thinking. The Ailil Countess starts to open her mouth to speak before Emmanuel cut her off. "I have given an account of our origin legends. Lord Gwydion was the first true sidhe noble, given his position in the halls of the gods."

Helga bristles, glaring openly at Emmanuel, but she says nothing. Robert smirks knowingly but also says nothing. Janice smiles ever so faintly. "His Grace indeed relates -one- of our oldest legends. However, the tales of our actual origin are often rather confused. Depending upon to whom one gives credence we are created by the gods, descended from the gods, prior to the world, from entirely outside time, or created by human fancy."

Ferranifer nods thoughtfully. Created by the gods matched her own mythalogical and historical information, yet she was unwilling to go further with her own discourse after the smirk she received from the woman known as Lady Janice. Ferranifer turned her head, instead, to look upon the others assembled.

Sir Dmitri nods a little at Janice's words. "Perhaps. I do not know about others. However, it is a known fact that Varich, the first of my line, was the child of the Sun and the Moon, the ruling dieties of the heavens. He was near divine himself, as his presence would often melt ice or snow, even of the magical sort, and he is known to have bested an evil god in single combat."

Ferranifer again nodded and looked at the next in line. 'Bested an evil god in single combat', she thought, 'both she and Baghtru had done that. Lauralin had defeated the world slayer and Turquine had defeated a number of beings as powerful.'

Janice smiles lightly once more. "Madame Ferranifer, might we ask the legends of Dragonsreach?"

The leader of Great House Aquinall from the Commonality watched and listened in silence, his mouth moving every now and then but no sound coming forth. If one looks closely enough, there appears to be an odd 'smudge' on his right cheek, and a similar but lighter one on his chin.

Dr. Benton listened politely to what the others had to say and found it interesting but not really the sort of information he was interested in. Though he could relate that such tails held clues to the true orgins of their species, it wasn't fact but fiction influenced by fact. They didn't have all that many myths in Iuthia... it was a rather unimaginative country and the people valued the present and tended to only look to the past for precedent...

Meanwhile Joanna simply looked over here notes, listening with one ear to the conversations going on around her.

Dmitri turns his gaze to the leader of Great House Aquinall with undisguised curiosity.

Ferranifer looked at the leader of Aquinall, "Are you ill?"

Janice regards Ferranifer quietly, awaiting an answer.

Fárë looks rather surprised, hiking both eyebrows up. Softly, "Ill? I dare say I've never been ill in my life, Lady Ferranifer. - If you refer to my silent speech, I'm dictating notes."

A finger scratches the surface of the table in a thoughtful circular motion for a moment. "If I might take the oppurtunity..."

The pause is brief enough to be polite, but he doesn't wait for confirmation of permission. "These legends are most interesting indeed. Yet do none of you bring reports verifiable by any living witnesses?"

Ferranifer sat back, gathering her thoughts then looked up. “According to the myths and legends the Sidhe were created long ago. The forces of light and darkness still waged war over the newly formed universe and the gods and devils, angels and demons created soldiers to fight for them. Among these were fey folk and Sidhe for the forces of light and goblinoids and evil fey for the forces of darkness. Eventually it was agreed that the universe in the prime material would be left to the created ones. A bargain was struck and the greater beings left the world. The Sidhe, the greatest of the races of the time, became arrogant, believing themselves to be superior to all others. They were, but their arrogance caused anger among the greater powers. The Sidhe were punished, most turned into the exact opposite of what they were and became ogres. The rest were left to watch the result of their arrogance. It was only then that the greater powers created the elves. Not so perfect as the Sidhe but the greatest of the races at the time that were numerous.”

Ferranifer put out her hand and a tome appeared in it. The tome was obviously ancient and the covers were bound in living flesh. A mouth upon it wreathed as though in agony. “As for eyewitnesses, I don’t know of any from so long ago, but I do have this. It’s the tome of a demon who had lived through those times.” She set the tome down and opened it. The writing wasn’t recognizable to any of the modern ones, but she looked down and read from the book. “And so it came to pass that those foul creatures who believed themselves perfect, the Sidhe of the creation of light, were cast down and made disgusting in the eyes of mortal most fair. But now a new race is born of the light. Elves they are called. They are to replaced the fallen and proud Sidhe. What new terrors might be wrought upon this new race? I should like to be the first to bring these to them.”

Ferranifer looked up, “That’s the closest to eyewitness that I can find.”

Janice arches a brow faintly at Fare. "I thought you and I had been over this. While all our research indicates that the average member of our race has an age measured in millenia, no one remembers anything much before the exile from home. Besides which, it is simple logic that we could not have witnessed the birth of our progenitors. They were, after all, our progenitors."

King Frederick settles back, studying Ferranifer sceptically. "Then perhaps we would be better off testing our relation to ogres than elves. Shall we have one fetched for that end?"

Ferranifer looks at Lady Janice, "Well if there is no knowledge you do not wish", she says with return smirk before looking back at the king, "then perhaps that might be something to consider. It certainly wouldn't hurt, though I can't gaurantee that you'll find anything. Who knows how much the old ones changed them or how they've changed over time. The same argument could be used in favor for elven relation. I came with only what I know."

((Robert was the one who smirked, hun.)

"Very well." The king rises and walks to the door. He returns a moment later. "One should not be long in coming. There is such a creature in the dungeons of a nearby keep."

Robert looks to Ferranifer's book carefully before turning his gaze to Fare. "M'lord, perhaps you would tell us of the difference between the Quendi and the Tel'Quessir?"

(Sorry, my mistake)

"Very well, shall I get my instruments? And do we have a Sidhe subject to use as comparison, and I'll need alchemical equipment."

A small shake of his head heralds the response of Fárë, who glances downwards for but a brief moment. "I have kin who could indeed be called upon, who are by far older than I. And although it is indeed true that almost all things change, least not the speech of the Quendi, but our memories hold firm. And there is living proof of their memory, for Morgoth himself has returned, and some say that Dagor Dagorath is indeed surely almost at hand. - Yet this does not prove that other truths do not exist. For Eru revealed not the time of the coming of the Quendi or the Atani to the Valar, and the Valar revealed not the coming of the Nenyans to the Quendi; who knows what else has failed to pass into the knowledge of all, whether mortal or not?"

He casts a faint smile towards Robert. "My apologies, but I lack the knowledge to even begin to compare the Quendi with the Tel'Quessir. But days ago I, personally, had not even heard the faintest whisper of that kind. I cannot speak for either the Iluvauromeni Nenyans or the Iluvauromeni Humans, however; perhaps not even for the entirety of my own kin, the Noldor."

Robert nods. "So, the Eldar, to use the term more broadly than most would, have living memory of their history back to the creation, which did not include the Tel'Quessir until recently?" Robert pauses a moment. "Tell me, any of you, what do you know of the panda bear?"

"Almost completely back to the point of our emergence into the world, yes," the Noldo replies softly. "I would say completely, but I am uncertain as to the exact age of some of the oldest of my kind, and so I cannot be sure. A lengthy study could provide the answer, of course. - But there are of a certain those of us who remember Aman, and the Valar."

He blinks rapidly at the mention of panda bears, unsure of exactly what that has to do with Elves.

"Panda bear", Ferranifer said, "Well I've done studies, but .... I'm not sure what you would like to know."

Robert smirks once more. "How closely related is it to, say, a grizzly?"

"Physiologically almost identical. Certain genetic traits gives it it's size and coloring. Why?"

Robert restrains himself from comment, looking about the room.Finally, he says quietly, "Perhaps another exmple would have been better. Your studies seem to have yielded rather...unique results."

"Perhaps if you were to let us know what you were looking for. I may not be the best one to ask depending on what you want. My specialiaty was in depth and my knowledge rather vast, for my region, but I did rather focus on my particular area." Ferranifer replied, "What I relate here is based on a number of things, but I will not say that it's complete, I can only say that the sources are decently reliable."

Robert staightens slightly. "It is off topic anyway. Your opinions on the physiology of the panda are not the subject here. Would anyone else care to share any ancient legends?"

Ferranifer looks at Robert with a confused look on her face, then shakes her head, "No that's all the legends and history I have." She reached for the pitcher and glass then looked at it and set it down again.

King Frederick looked about the table, sighing lightly. "Lord Robert, we would have words with you after this session adjourns."

((For reference, this is what I consider the true origins of the sidhe. My own people mostly don't know it ic and I'd certainly be surprised if anyone else did but...for the record, and a few ancient fragments... http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=364177 ))

The Noldo strives greatly not to look bemused, and thus busies himself leafing through one of the books laid on the table before him; presumably he can actually read the script within, but that's not exactly certain. He could just be good at miming.

Helga leans back in her chair, slightly. "It seems my contention was right, Your Majesty. There was very little to this idea of joint heritage beyond ears."

A servant runs in and whispers in King Frederick's ear. The king's face graducally assumes a scowl before he rises slowly. "My friends, it is our unfortunate duty to inform you that there may be dangers to any attempting to return to their homeland. It seems that a foreign power is currently attempting to place the Empire under naval and air blockade. While our own armed forces shall fight back and ultimately prevail, the situation makes travel unfortunately dangerous."

OOC: I'd be very surprised if Iuthians could lower such effects conciously. I tend to imagine them as a vastly watered down version of "my" Pariahs, who don't have much of a choice in the matter.

OOC: I'd be very surprised if Iuthians could lower such effects conciously. I tend to imagine them as a vastly watered down version of "my" Pariahs, who don't have much of a choice in the matter.

OOC: The majority of them aren't Pariahs, I've already pointed out that only a meager 5 people in a nation of 3.4 billion people have the potential to be full out and out Pariahs... the rest are just inately resistant like dwarves.

A servant runs in and whispers in King Frederick's ear. The king's face graducally assumes a scowl before he rises slowly. "My friends, it is our unfortunate duty to inform you that there may be dangers to any attempting to return to their homeland. It seems that a foreign power is currently attempting to place the Empire under naval and air blockade. While our own armed forces shall fight back and ultimately prevail, the situation makes travel unfortunately dangerous."

The Noldo from ICEL looks faintly amused. "A blockade? That is rather rude. Might I ask whom? - Although I sincerely doubt they would dare attack my conveyance, should any feel the need to leave immediately, and, presuming His Majesty gives his permission," a small bow of his head, "then I no doubt might request that the Commonality dispatch a small aerial support unit to ensure the safe exit from the area of danger for any who require such help."

He pauses for a moment. "Although I am curious to know the exact circumstances under which this occurred... and whether or not our goodly hosts were aware of this potential danger before we were invited."

Frederick blinks, looking a little offended. "of course we were not. We never would have invited you here under such circumstances without informing you." Calming, he continues. "It seems that a nation named Antonia illegally flew a plane carrying hazardous materials into our air space and then duly crashed. A local epidemic was caused in a bakwater area of Shieldcrest which was appropriately quarantined within a few days of the affair. However, the same nation which created the problem saw fit to attempt to solve it by blockading the entire empire, not just the area of contamination or even just Shieldcrest, in a violation of the sovereign law of nations. Their defeat is rather imminent, outnumbered as they all. Still, this very inability to recognize obvious military realities leads us to believe that they would be foolish enough to fire on Ma-tek and other nations far larger and more advanced than themselves."

The Scientist taps her antennae together slowly. That is most inappropriate. While we are not known for gratuitous acts of neither kindness nor military adventurism, I do believe that we could assist you if it becomes a concern. The panNorm have discovered an... interest in your empire as it is an example of an entire field which we have very little data about. Seeing that threatened by someone else's negligence...

She makes a soft clicking noise so close to a human clacking his tongue that it requires no translation. The offer remains open. Beyond that, we have no 'legends' except for history we have lost the documentation for. It has already been described to us that trying to determine history via genetic regression--examining what inactive material there are in the introns, comparing this inactive coding to that of other species whose genomes are on file--would be less than effective. However, we do not believe it would be wise to discount this possibility until it is attempted.

King Frederick pauses a moment. "Perhaps one of our technological delegates might wish to conduct some tests?"

Ferranifer sits back, her level of technology far from appropriate for the requested task and her methods far from appropriate for the present company.

The Scientist nods her head, one bony manipulator hand indicating the various tools on her vest-like harness. I have some field equipment for taking blood and tissue samples, and can send the information up to Alpha for computation and analysis. All I need in that regard are willing subjects and pedigree data going back as long as you have records or memory. The tests should be able to confirm or deny relation to known species which share familiarities with the one in question, and the pedigree charts can help in creating and managing dispersion and adaptation within the population.

Janice steps forward. "I will volunteer. The charts will be sent up soon." She holds out her arm to the ant.

Getting up, the insectoid retrieves some rubber tubing from her vest while she looks over Janice's arm carefully, tracing out vein lines with the bony manipulator 'fingers' of her free hand. Quickly determining how close Janice is to human standard and thus where to apply the flow restrictor, she wraps the rubber tube tightly around Janice's bicep, folding it under to keep it taut before palpitating just a little to make the veins bulge. Taking a blocky instrument about fifteen centimeters long and five centimeters wide with a clear tubular end connected to a sort of plastic nozzle from its webbing harness, she plants it on the inside of Janice's elbow, centered over a vein, and presses down. The nozzle splays out, making a connection like a suction cup, while the three tiny enzyme-soaked incisors of the tip slip through. When the Scientist taps a button on the side a plunger starts to rise; the suction action gently sucks a few milliliters of blood into the clear tubular section like a leech; once this is full, the Scientist pulls back on the device a little and presses another button which sprays the tiny wound with a small bit of coagulant and medical glue, quickly sealing it. Tilting the device to the side breaks the suction cup seal without a problem, revealing a tiny Y-shaped scab about three millimeters across.

The rest of this device works something like a gel electrophoresis plate, the Blue chatters in her native tongue, a portion of the blood is processed and the genetic material set to be drawn through a viscous fluid ringed by quite a few sensors. The sensors pick up the relative densities of whatever is being drawn through the fluid and come up with nucleotide base distributions in the exact same manner as visual inspection of electrophoresis analysis. This information will then be transmitted to Alpha via the repeater stations in my craft and an orbiting panNorm ship.

It will take about half an hour for this device to perform its test, then another five minutes for its transmission to reach Alpha; I am unsure how long the database examination will take but the response should only take another five minutes in transit. I would hypothesize that the best case scenario yields definite results of a match in approximately one hour from now; proving lack of relation to any known species could take several weeks given the size of our databases. A limited search based on known sophonts would only take the lesser part of the day and would yield the most information. Not having anything else to do with it, the Scientist replaces her device into its pouch on her harness. Additional tissue samples, such as soft-tissue scrapings from the inside of the cheek, would provide additional information to correlate and help confirm any findings but I do not think it would accelerate any proccesses. However, if you have any anatomy texts I could peruse I could use my own knowledge base to possibly limit future searches further and at least extrapolate potentialities based on gross physiological similarities and differences.

Janice nods. "I'm sure we could find one."

The blood has a homogenous density, when tested, contrary to all biological laws.

And of course a homogenous density indicates a homogenous constitution; essentially it is what blood looks like and not what blood really is (which fits with previous warnings). Unfortunately, that realization is probably still a few hours away at this point, and so the Blue nods. If I could be directed to any medical libraries, I would be most appreciative.

King Frederick pauses. "Would you prefer anatomy books were brought to you? We wouldn't want you to miss the arrival of the ogre."

I suppose that would work just as well, the panNorm chatters with the staccato click-clacking of her mandibles as she makes her way back to her couch. I will be studying rather hard, so forgive me if it appears I am not paying attention--I will still be watching. She indicates her compound eyes with slight gestures of her manipulator claws.

The King nods to some servants. Within about half an hour, a servant brings a stack of anatomy books, setting them before the panNorm.

The Blue thanks the King and his servants and quickly settles into the book, reading it with astonishing rapidity as she compares the diagrams and descriptions within to what she knows, which is quite a bit. She flips out a notepad with one hand, settling it beside the book, then starts taking notes in a quick, angular script. After pausing for a moment, she quickly draws a diagram, partially copying a body from the book with uncanny precision, then indicates differences and takes notes around it. One page is quickly filled up, and then she flips to the next, and the next, as she scribbles notes and figures and comparative drawings and logic diagrams.

After a few moments, an ogre woman is led in, her arms and legs shackled. She's as tall as a troll but her skin is a darker shade of blue, her forehead is lower and less pronounced. She stumbles a little as she walks, dressed only in furs covering her chest, loins, and feet.

((bump))

The Blue doesn't "look up" from her work--it is generally hard to tell, anyway--but her antennae to rise and wave a little as the ogress enters the room. Aside from the detailed physiological notes, she adds a few other bits off to the side, possibly concerning the room's newest occupant.

The ogress snorts, looking at the Blue. "What ant thing?"

Just that--a curious ant-thing, replies the Blue, a scientist of the panNorm. Who are you, if I may be so bold as to ask? She continues to read through the book, taking notes as she speaks.

The ogress tugs in her manacles and grunts. "You be scared, ant thing!"

Helga looks at the ogress, then back to the Blue. "Would you prefer we have her gagged?"

The insectoid manages a passable shrug, still writing. You have her bound and her insults and threats are meaningless to me at the moment. If she becomes a credible threat, I will defend myself as best I am able. If she succeeds, the panNorm is not greatly harmed. It is nothing to be overly concerned about.

On the other hand, it may be more useful to you if I leave so I cease being a distraction. While I do not exactly prefer that option, I know she is here for a reason and if my presence is detrimental to that reason then there is no point in my remaining.

Janice frowns a little. "We would want you here for the examination of this evidence as well. Who wishes to question or physically examine this creature?"

The ogress grunts. "I'm Becca."

Ferranifer stands up and a bag materializes that she sets on the table. She turns two of the books to look at them, examining the physiology of the Sidhe of Resurgent Dream. 'Odd', she utters, a book made of human flesh with a sigil on the front cover materializing in her hand. She sets it on the table and opens it examining the hand written diagrams and notes in it then looking at the book provided by Resurgent Dream.

"This ogre may do us no good. It seems the Sidhe of your region on mine differ. I could study the ogre anyway if you wish", she says as she takes out a rolled up packet and sets it on the table, unrolling it carefully. The tools of torture seem precisely craft, some apparently self designed, "My magic can sustain it for days, even weeks. At least in my region it can, I can keep a human alive for almost a month, even as I'm disecting."

A few eyebrows shoot up, some gasps are heard. Frederick merely arches a brow, speaking calmly. "Only if you assure us that her treatment will be...ethical."

Robert laughs a little. "I have one I'll sell you with no such guarantee. Thought she could get away with trying to hit me."