SoA Banters - Pre-Quest

Illyria:
I - I think I should sit down; I feel slightly dizzy.

Korgan:
What's the matter, girl? Cannae keep up? Shall I run ye a bath and rub yer fancy feet, elf?

Illyria:
Far from it, Korgan. And I doubt I am the one in need of a bath, Korgan. Truly, you smell worse than the rot of the nine hells.

Korgan:
Hah! I may smell of the earth, but ye reek of the vile flowers and mamby pamby woodland creatures that yeh protect so diligently.

Illyria:
Which is *infinitely* preferable to smelling like a horse. Wash. Soon. Please.

Korgan:
I thought you female elves would be used to the smell of a stallion, especially when he's been working up a sweat.

Illyria:
Urgh... but one cannot deny he has creativity, I suppose. (Shudder)



Illyria:
Korgan, I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from staring at my breasts. It is beginning to become slightly disturbing, admittedly.

Korgan:
I be not starin' at yer breasts, ye long limbed pansy, I be starin' at yer necklace! It looks to be worth a pretty penny, an' I have half a mind ta relieve yer pretty neck of it

Illyria:
If I wanted to take my amulet off, dwarf, I doubt I would be handing it to you. So please, take your stare elsewhere, if you don't mind.

Korgan:
There isnae a reason why I shouldnae stare, elf. And ye cannae make me!

Illyria:
Sehanine, please strike him down - a bolt would be fine, anything, just let me be *rid* of him... argh.



Jaheira:
I have noticed that whenever I come near to you you move away and busy yourself with some mundane task, Illyria. You are avoiding me. Why?

Illyria:
Because you frighten me, to be entirely candid. When we come near, I feel your gaze upon me, analyzing my every move as though to find out whether I will tip the balance somehow.

Jaheira:
Ah, I see. I suppose I watch you to discern whether you will be an asset or a bane to this party. So far you have proved to be an asset, but I sense something amiss with you which concerns me.

Jaheira:
You have nothing to fear from me, Illyria, I am simply concerned with the well-being of the group.



Illyria:
Jaheira, I am deeply sorry abou-

Jaheira:
Do not even say it, Illyria! I am sick to the bone of people apologising for what was an unavoidable occurance.

Illyria:
How can you say that, Jaheira? I was simply trying to be polite.

Jaheira:
Leave me be, Illyria. I do not want your sympathy.

Illyria:
Look, I was just... I suppose we will talk later, then.



Illyria:
Nalia, why must you give money to every peasant we pass? We are trying to save it so we can rescue Imoen, not waste it on people who would misspend it anyway.

Nalia:
20,000 gold is a lot of money, Illyria. Surely <CHARNAME> isn't going to mind if we give up one piece to the needy?

Illyria:
One piece, Nalia? You just gave twenty gold coins to that beggar, not one!

Nalia:
Oh, by the gods, Illyria, how hard is it to get 20 gold? Selling one of those useless gems that we drag around, or perhaps a weapon we don't use?

Illyria:
I really do not think you fully comprehend what I am saying, Nalia. How is giving a peasant 20 gold going to help him lead a better life?

Nalia:
These people are starving! You're telling me you don't even feel the least bit obligated to help them?

Illyria:
Throwing money at them might feed them for a day or two, but no longer, Nalia. No longer.



Illyria:
Does it really help them in the long run, Nalia ? Would they not become more dependent on the nobility?

Nalia:
You assume that they will be dependent on the nobility for their means of living, but there are good people out there, who will take the money given to them and use it to help earn themselves a better way of living.

Nalia:
Someone has to start it, Illyria.

Illyria:
I suppose, but I do not think that is the best way to do it. If I were in your place, I would build schools, hospitals, places where they can get an education and be cared for.

Nalia:
The simple fact is that you are not a noble, and therefore do not know the hardships peasants suffer. I am in a better position to understand what they need, I think, Illyria.

Illyria:
So as a noble, who has had everything handed to her on a silver platter all her life, you are saying you understand the hardships of living on the streets as the downtrodden peasants?

Nalia:
I... I have been working to better the lives of the peasants all my life! I have done so much for them, given them money and food, and you tell me I don't understand the hardships that are forced upon them?!

Illyria:
Your heart may be in the right place, but I think you need to revise how you are trying to 'fix' the situation. It is not a problem which will simply disappear if you give away money, Nalia.



Imoen:
Illyria, what was it like on Evermeet? I remember reading about it in a book in Candlekeep, but it didn't say very much - only that it was the Retreat of the Elves, and it was incredibly hard to gain access to it.

Illyria:
Evermeet? The - the thought of it is simultaneously wondrous, and painful. I have both good and bad memories of it.
=
Many of the elves on Evermeet are extremely racist; the Ar’Tel’Quessir in particular. I was ridiculed for my ancestry, and often publically insulted and humiliated.

Imoen:
But... thats... I thought elves were good! You know, friendly, helpful-

Illyria:
The Teu’Tel’Quessir are the ones you have probably seen the most often. Not many gold elves mingle with humans, they believe themselves better than the other races.

Imoen:
The... tew-whatsits?

Illyria:
The moon elves. The Teu’Tel’Quessir are moon elves, the Ar'Tel'Quessir are gold elves, the Sy’Tel’Quessir are wood elves, and the green and aquatic elves are just that.

Imoen:
Heh, okay. So, what is Evermeet itself like?

Illyria:
Well, it has breathtakingly large mountains, beautiful cities, and the forests are spectacular...




Illyria:
Imoen, is that my brooch? Wait a moment...

Imoen:
Oh, I, uh, you dropped it, and I just, uh, picked it up. You can have it back now.

Illyria:
Oh, thankyou!

Imoen:
(Phew... I must be out of practice!)

Illyria:
Did you say something?

Imoen:
Oh, nothing...




Illyria:
Minsc, is Boo truly intelligent? So far, all I have seen him do is crawl around in your backpack, eating cheese and the occasional cracker. I find it hard to believe that he could really be sentient.

Minsc:
Ah, Boo is a very clever little hamster. He tells Minsc where to go, what to do, and how to do it - without Boo, Minsc would be nothing, unable to kick the foul butts of evil!
=
But Boo is not like you or I, Illyria. Boo does not think like us. Boo's thought goes far beyond, and around, and above us! Even Minsc does not sometimes understand his thoughts, and Minsc is Boo's closest companion!

Illyria:
You speak as though Boo is a real person, but to me, he is just a hamster.
=
Sometimes I wish I had someone who I could ask for advice like that. I used to have Mother, and then Oralle to talk to, but now all I have is my journal, and it does not exactly respond.

Minsc:
Boo says that little Illyria can talk to Minsc if she needs to, for Minsc is good at helping people!

Illyria:
Thank you for the offer, Minsc, but in retrospect, <CHARNAME> might be a better person to talk to.

Minsc:
Boo and Minsc think it is good Illyria and <CHARNAME> get along as well, as Illyria and Minsc do. Boo says that diss-ent is not good for main-tain-ing good rel-ay-shons between people. I am lost in his words, but Boo is very wise.



Illyria:
Minsc, do you treat all livings things the way you treat Boo?

Minsc:
Of course! Unless they deserve a good buttkicking, in which Boo and Minsc get down to chowing on the meaty marrow of evil!

Illyria:
I see. So Boo does not get jealous, then?

Minsc:
Boo would never do such a thing. Minsc and Boo will be together until the end, and even beyond!

Illyria:
All living things must die sometime, Minsc... even Boo.

Minsc:
Ah, but Boo is no normal hamster, Illyria; Boo is a Miniature Giant Space Hamster!

Illyria:
A miniature giant space hamster. I... I must admit, Minsc, I find that to be rather hard to believe.

Minsc:
Ah, but Boo is Boo, and will always be Boo! Or... at least, this is what Boo tells me.



Illyria:
Viconia, what was it like to grow up in Drow society? Disgusting as it is, I would be interested to know.

Viconia:
You would like to know the inner workings of Drow society? You, a half-elf who is barely past her adolescence? Pah! Do you not know that the Drow are sworn enemies of the Surface Elves, Illyria?

Illyria:
You think I have not been raised to hate such as you, Viconia? To despise you with every inch of my being, and enjoy the thought of killing you? Of course I have. I have always been interested by Drow culture, however, much as it disturbs me. I would like to know more about it.

Viconia:
You are an odd surface elf, are you not? Your request is quaint, yet rather amusing. Why even bother asking, elg'caress?

Illyria:
I am not not exactly like other elves, Viconia. I find Drow culture fascinating. Morbid, but certainly fascinating. My Goddess always says to pursue lost knowledge, mystery - and the Dark Elves are shrouded in these. 

Viconia:
Is that so? They say curiosity killed the cat. However, I will devulge some details of our ways to you, unworthy one.

Illyria:
Truly? Thank you, Viconia.

Viconia:
Do not thank me, half blood, until you have heard what I have to say.

Illyria:
Well, I, thank you anyway. Can you tell me ab-

Viconia:
I did not say it was for you to ask - I will tell you if and when and how I feel like. Do not pester me for information.



Illyria:
Viconia?

Viconia:
I have told you time and time again, tu'rilthiir, do not speak unless spoken to!

Viconia:
Shar, belbau uns'aa z'ress...

Illyria:
Would you tell me a little of the Drow, Viconia?

Viconia:
Do you *truly* wish to know of the Drow, girl? Humans are known for their intolerence of information which disgusts them, and I have no patience for it.

Illyria:
I am not a human, Viconia, I have elven blood, and have far more endurance than I suspect you give me credit for. It cannot be that bad, can it?

Viconia:
Hah, we will see. For once I shall be the teacher, and you the obedient student. This may prove more enjoyable than I had originally predicted.

Viconia:
Let us begin with... hmm. The Pleasure Chambers. The Drow Pleasure Chambers are the culmination of thousands of years of perfection and perfecting. In Drow culture, pleasure is nothing less than an artform...



Illyria:
Mazzy, what is it like living the life of a halfling adventurer?

Mazzy:
It is rather stifling sometimes, I must admit. Many adventuring groups simply refuse my requests to join because I am a halfling.

Illyria:
That must be incredibly frustrating.

Mazzy:
Moderately so, yes. My efforts to join a group succeeded, eventually, and I met Patrick. (she sighs)

Illyria:
Do you miss him, Mazzy?

Mazzy:
More than you could possibly imagine. But, as Arvoreen gives me strength, I shall continue in my quest to help <CHARNAME> whenever <PRO_HESHE> is in need of it.

Illyria:
I envy your dedication, and your passion.

Mazzy:
I thank you. It is not often an adventurer such as myself recieves such praise, Illyria.

Illyria:
I shall make an effort to compliment you more often, then, Mazzy.




Illyria:
Why do you aspire to be a paladin, Mazzy? I must admit, I do not fully understand your reasons.

Mazzy:
Paladins are the ultimate force of good, Illyria, and seek to rid of the world of evil, much as I do. It would only be fitting for me to join their ranks, but they cannot accept me because I am a halfling. It is *most* frustrating.

Illyria:
Ah, I see. So why does Arvoreen not have paladins? Human gods do, why not halfling?

Mazzy:
It is an unspoken rule amongst the gods that only humans can become paladins. I do not know why, but I suspect it has something to do with a lost wager.

Illyria:
A lost... wager? Mazzy, the gods would not decide such a thing on a wager, that would be stupidity!

Mazzy:
The elven gods, perhaps, but other gods are more lenient towards gambling, I assure you.

Mazzy:
I am joking, Illyria. Do not worry, the gods would never do such a thing. I have many times considered the question of why the gods only allow human paladins, and I have not as of yet come up with a satisfying answer.
=
However, when I do, you shall be the first to know. (She smiles)

Illyria:
Thank you, Mazzy. I feel that it is unfair that less worthy people can become paladins, but not the valiant Mazzy. But, let us get moving... we can speak of this another time.



Illyria:
Aerie, I am curious. What was it like to be in the circus?

Aerie:
It... it was hard there. Some of the performers were so full of hatred, they would taunt me about my... my wings..
=
They would tease me, call me names. Uncle Quayle was all I had. If it weren't for him, I... I don't know what I would have done...

Illyria:
I know what you mean, in a way. On Evermeet, many purist elves spat at me when I encountered them in the marketplace, or in the Churches. They threatened terrible things, but my protector, Oralle, would have none of it and often reported them to the authorities.

Aerie:
It's nice to have someone who... who understands, Illyria. But, the loss of- of my wings is not something I think I will ever forget...

Illyria:
What is it like, Aerie? Without wings?

Aerie:
You- You w-would ask m-me that?! Don't you k-know what I've b-been through? Just.. j-just go away, Illyria, I don't want to t-talk to... to you anymore.




Illyria
Aerie, I am sincerely sorry... sometimes I tend to speak before I think.

Aerie:
Oh, it's fine Illyria.

Illyria:
I am still sorry, however.

Illyria:
I wonder why it is we lose sight of the bad things which happen to us as we age - it is an interesting thing to ponder.

Aerie:
I... I don't know. Perhaps it is that our minds veil those things we don't want to remember... and some th-things are just t-too horrific for us to deal with.

Illyria:
Perhaps that is it.




Haer'Dalis:
How goest thy day, my petrel? I have not seen a smile grace thy face yet, dost thou perchance need a handto clear what's on your mind?

Illyria:
I am not entirely sure as to what you are inferring, Haer'Dalis; perhaps that I look melancholy? I do not mean to appear so, I am simply thinking.

Illyria:
Thinking about many things, the least of which are my own problems. Since joining <CHARNAME>'s troupe, it seems life has become so much more difficult than it once was. Perhaps it is just me.

Haer'Dalis:
Nay, I do know thy meaning. Life with <CHARNAME> is different, as changing as the winds and thy masks. Still... difficult? I would not call it such. More... exciting, perhaps?

Illyria:
Perhaps. Life has a way of flinging us into the most dangerous situations only to draw us back out again, safe and whole; I would not call that 'exciting'. What is exciting is the sunrise; the birds on the horizon, their joy floating on the wind to enlighten us with song. What is over the next rise, good or bad. But this... this constant danger, it is more worrying than exciting.

Haer'Dalis:
Ah... but how can that be, my petrel? Thou art correct... the birds shalt always compel us with their sweet song. The sunrise shall always greet us with its light. But this! Thou canst not just see this as constant danger. It is the swing of the sword, the whistle that could spell life or death every moment, every hour! How can this not be exhilarating also?

Illyria:
The threat that my friends could be taken from me in one fell swoop does *not* fill me with joy, nor exhilaration. Horror, perhaps, but not joy.



Illyria:
Haer'Dalis, how do you find the Prime Material Plane?

Haer'Dalis:
What meanest thou, petrel? Perchance you mean to ask if I find the Prime to be attractive, more so than other planes I have visited?

Illyria:
Yes.

Haer'Dalis:
It is not, admittedly, my favourite place, but it is suitable. There is too much order here for my liking; visit a place such as Sigil, and you would find it was far more chaotic, and hence, interesting. So many more stories, so very many different people.

Illyria:
Do you miss it? Sigil, I mean?

Haer'Dalis:
I do. But I would not wish to return any time soon - there are certain people who would, I do not think, take kindly to my arrival. I'm sure you would understand that particular situation quite keenly.

Illyria:
Yes, I do. (sigh)

Haer'Dalis:
Occasionally, a break from our normal lives is what is needed to bring inspiration back into the pen of the poet, or the sword of the fighter. Change is a wonderful thing, Illyria - but only if we can accept it. And if you cannot accept change, you will stagnate - perhaps you should think on this.

Illyria:
I might do just that, Haer'Dalis.

Haer'Dalis:
The finest stories are those of change and upset, Illyria.

Illyria:
Perhaps. But they are just that - stories. It is far easier to accept change in a story than in reality.

Haer'Dalis:
Of course - but is it not the same with all things?

Illyria:
You may have a point.



Illyria:
If you would not mind me asking, Yoshimo, how did you end up in Irenicus' dungeon with <CHARNAME>, Imoen, Jaheira and Minsc? I have spoken to them about the subject on occasion, and none of them had noticed your appearance before you escaped... are you another of Irenicus' sick experiments, or were you, like <CHARNAME>'s companions, there by luck - or the lack of it, in this case?

Yoshimo:
(A shadow falls across Yoshimo's face) Ah... there is a reason I do not usually discuss such topics.

Illyria:
You were not with <CHARNAME> when Irenicus ambushed <PRO_HIMHER>... what possible reason could there be for you to have ended up in Irenicus' dungeon? Did you run afoul of Irenicus, perhaps discover the truth about his dungeon beneath the Promenade?

Illyria:
I apologise if this is an uncomfortable topic, but... I have a burning curiosity to know. I do not wish to cause offence, but what could you have possibly done to have Irenicus throw you in his prison?

Yoshimo:
That is one of the reasons I am still here with <Charname> instead of parting ways. I truly do not know. I do not know why Irenicus captured me. All I knew was that one moment I was in my quarters at the Copper Coronet, and the next I was waking up, dazed, in his dungeon.

Yoshimo:
It is rather embarassing, you see, for a thief of my skill to have been caught so easily.

Illyria:
Ah. I cannot help but wonder why Irenicus would have done what he did to you... it is a most intriguing puzzle. Do you have any theories as to why he may have imprisoned you?

Yoshimo:
Perhaps... it is because of my skill as a thief. Irenicus might be in league with certain... people that perhaps do not approve of my freelancer status. In this city, as I am sure you would know, life is ruled by the Shadow Thieves.

Illyria:
I find it hard to believe that would be the case, as skillful as you may be... Irenicus, from what I have seen, is coldly logical... and he would never do anything that was not directly in his own interest.

Yoshimo:
(Sigh) Perhaps he thought to use me as a test subject, then. I do not truly know why he chose me, and I do not like to relive those memories. However, I am fully intent on aiding <Charname> on his/her quest, because Irenicus does not only have to answer to him/her.




Illyria:
Anomen, I am curious. You say you are out to combat evil, but all I have seen you do so far besides minimal help in battle, is worry about whether you will pass your test.
=
Why is becoming a Knight so important to you? Surely you can fight evil just as well outside the Order?

Anomen:
Becoming a Knight of the Order is that which is so important to me, Lady Illyria. I cannot devote my life to the path of righteousness and service of Helm outside it.

Illyria:
Why not, exactly? I have known many who combat evil without the aid of a god.

Anomen:
My devotion to Helm is not for your questioning, girl. I am a servant to the Order. I owe them much of my life's happiness.

Illyria:
Why does Helm demand such slavish obedience? I simply do not understand it. If a god wants obedience, why does he simply enforce his will, or buy a slave?

Anomen:
Faith is not slavery, do not mock me so! We serve the Gods to gain their favour and to better ourselves of our own free will! Who are you, girl, that knows so little of this? Elves have Gods, do they not?

Illyria:
Yes, but most do not demand such... such unquestioning obedience. Free will? Anomen, it doesn't sound to me as though you *have* free will. You do whatever the Order says, never asking why... It is sheer stupidity.

Anomen:
Who are you to challenge my faith in such a way! Who are you to impugn the honour of the Order? I do what is right and strive to follow the righteous path and that is my choice! Now leave me be, loathsome girl!




Illyria:
Anomen, I am sorry about what I said earlier. I did not mean to be rude, I was just curious.

Anomen:
Nay, my Lady, it is I who should be sorry. Although my harsh words *were* in defence of Helm, it is inexcusable for a knight to talk to a lady like that. I apologise.

Illyria:
Apology accepted, Anomen. Just, please, next time, do not take everything so personally.

Anomen:
I shall strive my best.



Jan:
...and THEN there was the time my Great Uncle Bunion was chasing a Ankheg through the Corymirian Forest. Now the funny thing about Great Uncle Bunion is that his feet...

Illyria:
Jan, please! Must you continually interrupt normal conversation to throw in one of your countless family stories? Could you *please* just tell me why you have such an obsession with turnips, without getting sidetracked?

Jan:
Well if you'd let me finish you'd find out! "Patience is a virtue", my Aunt Great Equaliser used to say. Though that didn't work too well for her in the end. Died waiting for her crops to grow.... She didn't seem to realise that you needed to plant the seeds first...

Illyria:
I see... and what has this to do with why you love turnips so, Jan? You are, perhaps unconsciously, proving my point.

Jan:
Well, yes, but... it all has to do with my first illusion. It was quite fantastic, I might add, a small wyvern... destroyed the garden, as well as Aunt Martha's pot plants...

Illyria:
I did not think illusions had form, though?

Jan:
I, uh, of course they don't, but it was... the illusion...

Illyria:
This is getting us nowhere... Perhaps it would be wise to discontinue this line of conversation, for I see it is upsetting you. Another time, perhaps.



Jan:
You know, Illyria, my Uncle, Uncle Smarmy Jangletoes that is, once dated a Beholder. He made us call her Aunty Bertha. Now, I personally had nothing against Aunty Bertha, but she wasn't a particularly nice Beholder. But Uncle Smarmy was happy and that was all that really mattered, I suppose. The big problem was when they decided to get married, you see there were some problems with wedding guests going missing.

Illyria:
I... see. Not *all* Beholders are bad, you know... in fact-

Jan:
Yes well, so did Aunt Bertha, all those eyes, as I'm sure you know. You know she could spot me stealing turnips from her garden at 100 paces? Amazing.

Illyria:
Really, well, thats quite-

Jan:
Interesting? Yes, I know. Now the most interesting part was her breath. The breath of that woman, and I use that term loosely, could have stripped the shell from an Ankheg, which is exactly what happened during the wedding. Someone had brought an ankheg shell as a wedding present for the happy couple but they had forgotten to remove the Ankheg first. So there we were in in the middle of the ceremony when all of a sudden up pops an Ankheg and devours the priest!

Illyria:
Jan, do you think we could start moving, I can see-

Jan:
Now Aunty Bertha didn't take kindly to the Ankheg ruining her wedding ceremony, Uncle Smarmy had had a lot of trouble finding a priest who would actually marry them. In the end the priest was a druid he had found wandering the forest ranting about mushrooms, spores and cannabilistic gryphons.

Illyria:
Jan, I am having a bit of trouble with a rogue Beholder soul here which is quite intent on throttling you, so would you *please* get on with it before I decide perhaps that course of action is wise?

Jan:
Ah, yes, well my point was that maybe you're related to my Aunt Bertha, and therefore to me. Wouldn't it be amazing if we were indeed related?

Illyria:
(sigh) I am sure L'Sirr would not be related to you, Jan... I think I can hear <CHARNAME> calling...



Illyria:
Valygar, what is life like 'on the run'?
=
Wait, I am sorry, that was insensitive of me... What is it like to have to run from the law, to hide yourselves from the authorities, when you know you are innocent?

Valygar:
Hardly innocent, Illyria, though I did the right thing, ridding the world of those foul, corrupt mages.
=
But, to answer your question... it is hard. I've had trouble staying out of sight, and remaining anonymous wherever I've been. I've almost been caught several times due to my lack of guile, and I learned from that that I could not let my guard down for a second.

Illyria:
It must be a lonely life... no wonder you are so unused to people.

Valygar:
I feel I need to point out that I am still here, Miss Illyria. But, in a sense you are right... let us get going, regardless.




Illyria:
Valygar, I am sincerely sorry about what happened to Lavok, even though he died a good death, seeing his home plane once more. Do you still feel the same animosity towards magic-users that you did before?

Valygar:
Hmm...I'm not sure, seeing how Lavok might have been redeemed if he had not died. Perhaps not all magic-users are as bad as I thought... but some of them are, so I cannot let my guard down that easily, I'm afraid.

Illyria:
Do you feel the same way about divine magic? The two are very different, but at the same time, are rather similar.

Valygar:
Divine magic is different. It's not learned by just anyone from scrolls and tomes, purchased at the general store. Still, there are some religions that use their divine power to kill, conquer and dominate. I feel the same wariness towards them, I believe.
=
(sigh) I'm aware they are naught but tools, Illyria. Powerful tools that give power, and it's my experience that shows power corrupts. I'm not exactly prejudiced...just wary. If you had to slay your parents because their arcane magic drove them to become liches, wouldn't you become more wary?

Illyria:
Is it not the same with all things? Warriors use their strength and weapons to kill, thieves, obviously, use their skills to steal, so why should clerics be any different?

Valygar:
Fair enough. People can earn my trust, in time... even mages, if that's what you're worried about.

Illyria:
Worried? No... no. Perhaps I shall tell you of it another time. But we have work to do. 



Keldorn:
The smallest voice can sometimes make the biggest difference, Illyria, as has been proved many times in the past.

Illyria:
But what influence could I possibly have had on Evermeet, Keldorn? I am a half-elf, hated, at least pitied- I am the scourge of society!

Keldorn:
I do not know the inner workings of Elven Society, but from what I have seen of elves, they are a noble people, and are always willing to listen to the opinions of others.

Illyria:
Perhaps here, on the Mainland, but on Evermeet I was a creature to be pitied, disgusted, because I had human blood running through my veins.

Keldorn:
I do not believe you are filth for having elven blood running through your veins... Why should they not think the opposite?

Illyria:
You are obviously far more noble than the elves I have known, Keldorn.

Keldorn:
Perhaps a more thorough search would reveal kind elven souls- in every society there are some who will abuse and defile, but I would like to believe that there are also those who stand as paragons of virtue and good, as well. But, let us not dawdle behind any longer, I am sure we have far more important things to attend to.



Keldorn:
Illyria, I have been pondering what you told me last time we spoke, on prejudice. I must admit, I had previously found this racial arrogance in some elves, and it saddens me that members of such a noble race of beings would have such an ingrained disgust of others.

Illyria:
It has been heavy on my mind as well, Keldorn. I believe you are right, in that there are elves who may stand as paragons of virtue and light. Just because I have had a bad experience with elves does not mean I should label an entire race as prejudiced.

Keldorn:
I would not what occured on Evermeet 'one bad experience'... I do not envy you what happened. My own past was admittedly dull, but at least I did not live in poverty or similar.

Illyria:
Do I detect a hint of regret, Keldorn? Were you such a-

Keldorn:
A grouchy old man even then?

Illyria:
I did not mean...

Keldorn:
(Slight smile) Don't worry, Illyria, I may be boring and old, but at least I have the wisdom to know it, unlike many others. Indeed, travelling with <CHARNAME> has been one of the singlemost interesting things I have done for a long time- beauracracy has never been one of my interests, I must admit.

Illyria:
I am glad I did not cause offense. It is nice to know that appearance is not everything, Keldorn.



Illyria:
Edwin, you are a Red Wizard, am I correct?

Edwin:
I compliment you on your sluggish perception, elf. Perhaps next time I should wear a tag saying "Edwin Oddesseiron, Red Wizard extraordinaire. No job openings.".

Illyria:
I see. Well then, riddle me this, oh great Red Wizard: is it true the Hathran are as powerful as some say?

Edwin:
Hah! The Hathran are nothing compared to the might of Edwin Odesseiron! (And the Red Wizards of Thay, of course, though these simians would not recognize them if one punched them in the face. All they need to know is me.)

Illyria:
So they are hardly a threat to Thay, you would say? Even though Thay has yet to defeat the witches of Rasheman?

Edwin:
Perfection has no deadline. (Yes... yes, that should do.)

Illyria:
I will keep that in mind, Edwin.




(condition: Edwin has Nether Scroll)

Edwin:
Bah, this scroll is proving more troublesome than it should for such a magnificent mage as myself... (Perhaps I should ask one of my damned companions to decipher it for me... on threat of a fiery death. Yes, yes, that sounds good... )

Illyria:
Edwin, do you require help with that scroll? I, ah, overheard you were having some trouble deciphering several of the key phrases.

Edwin:
What?! No, the translation is proceeding quite marvellously, I... (Do I ask? Dare I show a weakness? I fear I must if I am to become all-powerful... the ends justify the means. Yes.) I *am having trouble with several of the phrases, though... The script seems somewhat elven, but the intonations are radically different.

Illyria:
Let me take a look... I shall see if I can lend my aid.




Illyria: 
Athkatla seems to be falling apart at the seams... the very walls are disintegrating. I wonder if it is due to shoddy construction or the slow encroachment of nature.

Cernd: 
Cities have a way of dying from the inside, much like a tree with dryrot. It sucks up the food and resources from the plants around it before finally dying, and remaining a monument to the eternal cycle of life and death.

Illyria: 
I take it you aren't very fond of cities, being a Druid?

Cernd: 
Cities serve their purpose in the great plan, but humans build enormous cities which replace nature rather than live with it. The great elven cities are built to take advantage of nature, rather than encroach upon it or kill it, as you would well know. It would be wonderful if humans could set aside their racial prejudices and use the elves as an example. (He sighs.)

Illyria: 
You make it sound like you do not identify as human, Cernd.

Cernd: 
Sometimes I wish I did not. Humans have done terrible things to nature; what we see here is but one of them. I hope one day to help repair the damage we humans have done, but for the moment all we can do is try to prevent more waste and death.

Illyria:
I wish with all my heart that you can achieve your dream, Cernd, as ambitious as it may be... and though that may sound terribly cliche and prosaic, I wish it all the same.



Illyria:
Cernd, do you not find it aggravating that people are constantly asking questions of you? Most conversation I have overheard between you and others relates to identifying certain species of plants, or discussing the weather. Does it not become tiring?

Cernd:
Never. Nature's wonders are ceaseless, and the more I can teach to others about the Great Cycle of Life the better.

Illyria:
I must say, Cernd - I believe you managed a whole sentence without a metaphor. Astonishing.

Cernd:
Ah, I would appreciate it if you did not make such lapses known... I have a certain image to maintain, much as the stern albatross must hide it's own inner humour.

Illyria:
Do not worry, Cernd, your secret is safe with me. As safe...

Illyria:
As safe...

Illyria:
Can be.