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My Observatory is now closed to the public.

With a crackle of ethereal energy, a portal burst open, hurling forth the mighty mercenary as though he'd been flung from a sling. Smoke wisped from his massive frame, hinting at a recent struggle. He landed lithely, coming to a swift halt, shield up and alert, his piercing blue eyes scanning for signs of further danger. Finding none as the portal sealed shut, he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

His shield receded to a compact size on his bracer as he straightened to his towering height of 6'7". Glancing around, he beheld a place unlike any he'd encountered before: an Observatory suffused with an unusual warmth and impeccable cleanliness. "Hello?" He calls out, his deep voice calling out as he begins walking around.

A woman with her face concealed under a starry halo approaches from the stairs. “Good afternoon! I did not hear you come in! Here, make yourself at home.” She makes sure the fire is roaring, and she takes a look at the borealis. “I am the Keeper of this Observatory. Did you have anyone you wished to meet? I did have one young lady mention a man like yourself briefly the night before last.”

Samson's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the woman with the starry halo, taking in her welcoming demeanor and the unfamiliar surroundings of the Observatory. He nodded in acknowledgment of her greeting, his voice deep yet measured.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Samson began, his gaze sweeping across the Observatory's pristine interior. "I am Samson, a traveler from distant lands. I seek not a specific person but perhaps answers or purpose, wherever they may be found." His words were chosen carefully, revealing little of his own motivations but hinting at a quest that transcended mere wanderlust.

He shifted slightly, a subtle gesture of readiness despite the calm atmosphere. "You mentioned a young lady. What did she seek of me?" Samson inquired, his tone respectful yet carrying an undertone of curiosity, eager to uncover any threads that might lead him closer to the truths he pursues.

“She said something about going to a tavern and bumping into you on the way out. She was rather perturbed from how she described the night to me, but not at all towards you.”

Samson's memory stirred at the mention of Trixie's tavern, recalling the bustling atmosphere and the chance encounter with a troubled soul. His expression softened imperceptibly, a rare flicker of empathy surfacing beneath his stoic demeanor.

"I remember the tavern," Samson replied thoughtfully, his voice resonating with a hint of introspection. "I recall a brief encounter with a young lady, her demeanor marked by turmoil yet untainted by animosity towards me." His mind briefly revisited the moment, regretting the missed opportunity to delve deeper into the intriguing personality that had crossed his path.

"I regret not having had the chance to converse further," Samson continued, his gaze drifting momentarily toward the Observatory's windows. "Such encounters often reveal unexpected truths and paths yet to be explored."

He paused, a faint sense of anticipation stirring within him as he awaited the Keeper's response, hoping for clues that might illuminate the next steps of his journey.

“Well, my dear I have good news. She happens to be… one of my children so to speak. I created her! And the world she came from as well. I will bring her here to see you. Give me one minute.” The Keeper goes up to her telescope, points it at the sky above them and a little stardust trickles down and into one of the second-story rooms.

Samson watched in quiet awe as the Keeper manipulated the telescope with an air of command, directing stardust to weave through the Observatory and into one of the rooms above. He remained respectfully silent, absorbing the revelation that the troubled young lady from Trixie's was not merely a chance encounter but a creation of the Keeper herself—a manifestation from a world she had crafted.

He shifted slightly, his curiosity piqued yet tempered by a sense of reserved strength. "To create a world and its inhabitants," Samson mused aloud, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and a trace of solemnity. "It is a power that commands both wonder and responsibility."

As he awaited the arrival of the Keeper's creation, Samson's mind raced with questions about the nature of this world and its inhabitants, and how his own path might intertwine with theirs in the mysterious realm overseen by the enigmatic Keeper of the Observatory.

“I’m coming, mistress!” Orme walks out of the room. And the tribal dress she wore in the tavern has been replaced by a lacy white chemise. “You needed me, Miss Ciela?”

The Keeper smiles. “Young man, this is Orme. The lady you met at the tavern. In much happier spirits thankfully as well.” She whispers with a giggle. “I was relieved to not have invoked a sting from her anger. She said it was quite… rambunctious there when you two bumped.”

Samson turned as Orme emerged from the room, her attire now markedly different from what he remembered at Trixie's—a change that seemed to echo her improved demeanor. His gaze settled on her with a nod of acknowledgement, a subtle smile forming at the corners of his lips as he listened to the Keeper's lighthearted recounting of their encounter.

"It was indeed a lively evening," Samson replied with a warm chuckle, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I regret not having the chance to properly introduce myself amidst the rambunctiousness. I'm pleased to see you in better spirits now, Orme."

He extended a hand in greeting, his manner composed yet welcoming, curious to learn more about this young woman who had left such an impression during their brief, albeit eventful, intersection at the tavern.

Orme is rather surprised by the gesture. Perhaps she is not used to humans being hospitable, outside of the Keeper. But she accepts it with a smile of her own.

“Thank you. Sorry if I just bumped into you. I know that’s exactly the best of manners.”

Samson's expression softened, his blue eyes reflecting understanding as he gently shook Orme's hand. "No need for apologies, Orme. It was a crowded and spirited place. Bumps are bound to happen," he reassured her with a reassuring smile.

He released her hand and gestured towards the comfortable seating nearby. "Please, join us. I'm curious to hear more about your world and how you came to be here," he added, his tone sincere and welcoming.

“Oh, uh sure!” She sits down on one of the couches. Well, after she fixes her gaster, or abdomen, to sit more comfortably. And she fixes her wings as well.

Samson took a seat opposite Orme, his posture relaxed yet attentive. His gaze shifted briefly to her wings, a sign of curiosity and respect for her unique features. "So, Orme, what brings you to this realm? I imagine it must be quite a journey from wherever you call home," he inquired, genuinely interested in her story.

“Oh, trust me it is. It was. Though… I do have to admit it’s worth it. Everything at home is crazy so I appreciate the breaks. I’m telling you, I love my job but… yeesh! Some of it is just ridiculous.”

Samson nodded thoughtfully, empathizing with Orme's sentiments. "It sounds like you've seen your share of adventure and challenges. What is it that you do, exactly? Your job, I mean," he asked, curious to learn more about her experiences and the world she came from.

“So.. I’m a chieftain. Or well, chieftainess because I’m female. There’s a lot of tribes of Emerald Jewel Wasps so I just lead one of them. Which means I help construct shelters, gather and hunt for food, defend the tribe, do diplomacy amongst the other leaders…” she goes into excruciating detail about her jobs. Which is far more than one person should be able to do. But somehow she seems to manage.
“Miss Ciela always tells me I do too much. And maybe she’s right. But it’s in a hard day’s work.”

Samson listened intently as Orme explained her role as a chieftainess, impressed by her dedication and the breadth of responsibilities she shouldered. "It sounds like you have a lot on your plate, Orme. Leading a tribe and managing all those tasks must require incredible strength and skill," he remarked sincerely. "It's admirable how you manage to balance everything, even if it means working hard day in and day out. Does Miss Ciela help you with some of these responsibilities?"

“To be frank? She’s the reason I have any strength at all! I mean she did make me and everything in Shayla so that comes as no surprise. But still.” She chuckles with a sigh. “I’d probably be running around headless if it wasn’t for her.”