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The city of Porphios was a prosperous port city. The ocean bordered it on the east, a forest lay south of it, and plains hedged in from the west. The city was laid out in a radial design, with the marketplace and taverns toward the center, and the residential district toward the edges. The manors of the rich lay to the north east of the city.

All the buildings were made of a type of white stone, and the roofs came in shades of pale yellow, orange, red, and pink- the colors of a sunset.

In the upper class portion of the market district was a tavern called The Ivory Cap. Unlike other buildings, its roof was white. Inside, there was a comfortable, ornate red rug stretched across the stone, and lovely paintings were posted on the walls. Directly opposite from the entrance, across the room, was the bar. It appeared no one was intended to sit at it- the only sitting places were tables and chairs, and perhaps the bunny fur rug sitting before the fireplace to the left of the room. Also on that side of the room was a set of stairs leading up to the inn rooms.

Eirwyn sat on the far side of the room from the fireplace, meditatively sipping from a glass full of wine. She wore a black saree with gold and silver designs sewn into the fabric, the drape over her upper torso being somewhat transparent, but not so much as to sacrifice her modesty completely. She wore a gauzy veil over her long hair, and her black face mask was rolled down past her chin to allow her to drink. A wicked looking staff rested against the table next to her.

A tall figure moved through the bustling crowds as gracefully as she could manage. She tried to dodge this way, slither that, but she found she bumped into more people than she avoided. Finally making it to the outskirts of the fray, she lifted the cowl over her head and shoulders enough to expose her face. Cool blue orbs emitted a soft glow from her eye sockets and lush magenta lips pulled down in a frown as she took in her surroundings. It was quite possible she was hopelessly lost.

Mephorae took a step back into the flow of people and was swept off, having to move or be moved. She had replaced the hood, which sat strangely on her head, making an odd shape. She moved along with the current for another couple of blocks before she had to emerge for air again. Being in large crowds made her anxious and she was having her fill of nerves when she haphazardly pushed through the first door she got to that looked like any semblance of an Inn.

The room was warm and bright. She took it in and stepped forward, the stress of bundled nerves rolling off her like a fog. Her normally loud steps were muffled by the red rug she found underneath her. This place was blessedly devoid of people, save one figure to her right; a seemingly unmoving, quiet person. She made her way to the bar and was met by the maid. Flustered that she was being greeted while she was also trying to figure where she was supposed to sit, she hastily ordered a drink she had no intention of actually consuming. When the concoction made its way across the bar to her she opted to find a table and gravitated toward the lone figure.

Aethaerraent convalesced out of the darkness, fragments of its image blotting the air and spreading like mold stains until the flayer itself stood there on the docks, as substantial as a creature that horribly emaciated could be said to be, three-fingered hands steepled before its chest. It might've blended nicely into the dark sky and sea, but for the enormous, bulging eyes, reflecting moonlight like two lamps. At least the salty breeze helped to mask its subterranean smell.

Aethaerraent convalesced out of the shadows in the ill-light tavern, fragments of its image blotting the air and spreadingout like mold stains until the flayer itself stood there, as substantial as a creature so horribly emaciated could be said to be. It might've blended nicely into the dark corner, but for the enormous, bulging eyes, reflecting firelight like two lamps. It brought with it a subtle, subterranean smell, dark and damp.

The flayer stood there for a moment, statue still, fingers steepled before its chest, observing the two(?) other occupants of the inn. Although it was the middle of the night and the fire didn't throw its light into every cranny of the tavern, it would take several seconds for it to acclimate - if not to become entirely comfortable - to the light. And then it began to grow, looming upward like a stretched shadow. Or at least it seemed that way. It had begun to levitate, rising several inches above the wood floor, its robes apparently sized just for this in mnd and possessing several extra inches on the hem so that it reached the ground even when its feet did not. It rotated smoothly on the spot to stare with lidless, unblinking eyes toward Eirwyn.

(All right, so this is what happened: I was arranging roleplays with both of you, but I wasn't clear about what I was doing, so we got a two-on-one instead of a one-on-one. That's okay, though! The more the merrier. Sorry for the mix up, everyone!)

Eirwyn watched the entrance from her spot at the table, setting the cup of wine down and tracing the rim delicately with a fingertip. She observed the entrance of the demon. No one paid too much attention to her, aside from a few appreciative glances from men and even a woman or two.

The lich smiled pleasantly at the demon as she made her way over, not at all opposed to some company at the moment. "Good evening," she said, once the demon was within hearing range. Her voice was soft, hollow, and androgynous.

The next newcomer did not use the door. They also caused a bit more of a stir than the demon had. Several people did not stare, but darted quick looks back and forth toward the emaciated, dark figure. Eirwyn's attention was attracted because of this, and she saw the illithid staring rather unnervingly at her. The lich did not lose her nerve easily, however. She met its blank gaze steadily, wondering just what it was doing in a place like Porphios. Though Porphios attracted a very wide range of creatures, mindflayers were a somewhat rare occurrence, though they did stop in every now and then. She also wondered if it could read her mind- generally she had mental defenses against that, but a particularly powerful illithid might be able to. If so, it would know she was questioning its presence. If not, it might know anyway, from the way she was looking at it. Illithids were intelligent, after all.

(Hm, I don't know. An order might hold us up if we can't all be on at the same time, but also we might end up leaving a player behind if we go on without them. So, yes, let's use an order.)

(No prob. See you both tomorrow. )

She was startled when the woman looked up and greeted her, but not as startled as when the prickly feeling started to creep up her spine and she saw what caused it. Having been literally on many earths and Hell, Mephorae had never seen one of these creatures before. She backed into a table as it came closer, and pushed back her hood. This time the fabric fell all the way back, save for a piece which caught on her right horn.

She thought perhaps the thing was coming at her, as it was hard to tell its agenda, but it soon passed. It was then that she realized it had been heading for the nice woman at the empty table. She felt a sort of drive to say something, unsure what this creature's intentions were and thinking the woman was kind enough and shouldn't be bothered... But she found her tongue thick and useless in her mouth...

Though its looming was no doubt intimidating, Aethaerraent had yet to move from the corner where it had initially appeared. Thus far, all it had done was turn slightly, and did not give up its more defensible position of its back to the wall. A flayer was never a welcome visitor to any civilized gathering, and it found it safer to prepare for outbursts of violence when it made its first appearances.

The illithid hung in the air for several long seconds, sorting and considering the many thoughts that cluttered the air of the inn. Aeth was indeed a powerful psionic and telepath, a scholar among even its famously brainy people. But it wasn't here to break and enter. Those with appropriate magical defenses were relatively safe, so long as they resisted thinking so loud they leaked through their own defenses. Those without, however... it took much more of an effort for Aethaerraent not to sense their thoughts than it did to hear them, clear as a spoken conversation to such a creature.

Once it was satisfied that it did not "hear" any decisive thoughts about forming a pitchfork mob (only the usual indecisive ones it was fully accustomed to), then did it relinquish its place in the corner. It glid smoothly over the floor, the hem of its robe fluttering with the suprisingly fast movement. It stopped crisply before Eirwyn's table. It smelled magic on her. And the demon woman nearby, for that matter. Where there was magic, there was usually education. And where there was education...

You are familiar with this city? it "said", its voice entirely disembodied, seeming to be whispered directly into the brain. The voice was genderless, emotionless, only a vague hint of directionality associating it with the floating creature. Even so, the telepathic method of communication was easy to distinguish from the normal stream of consciousness, in that it was roughly the mental equivalent of having an ice cube dropped down the back of one's shirt. The question was directed at both Eirwyn and Mephorae.

Eirwyn saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to watch the demon back up into the table. She would offer a reassuring look at this point, but it would be wasted- the demon wasn't going to look at her when the illithid was there, especially now that it was approaching.

She had to admit she was curious what it wanted. Even as she watched it she checked her mental defenses, being sure to think quietly. She didn't particularly care if it read her thoughts- she wasn't thinking anything particularly secret- but she might, and it was a matter of principle, like eating all of your candy because it's YOURS and you don't have to share.

Its question came as a surprise to her, but the surprise didn't register in her features. "Quite well," she said. "I've been visiting here off and on over the course of four years. Is there something you want to know about it?" Illithids had a nasty reputation, but that didn't mean she was going to be rude right off the bat.

Mephorae shook her head at the creature's question. She had never been to this city before, hence the hopelessly lost feeling. She could, however, feel the thing in her mind. It's ability to be within her thoughts left a cold and creeping signature which caused the hair on her tail to stand on end.

Her attention turned to Eirwyn, who was responding verbally. Mephorae tried to put the feeling off but she found it difficult. Especially when the woman's honeyed words ended and the floating abomination was expected to respond.

((Yes I am slow. I keep wandering away to program. Sorry! I haven't forgotten you. ))

The creature's tentacles twitched, and something about the way they moved hinted that what was hidden at their center wasn't anything pleasant. As if its visage wasn't already a blatant enough clue.

When Mephorae answered it in the negative, it lost interest in her, its oppressive attention becoming all the more focused on Eirwyn. Then you will tell me where this city keeps books it directed, and there was the barest suggestion in the 'tone' of the words that this was a question. Hard to tell; that mental voice carried very little in the way of inflection.

The lich continued to keep an eye on the demon- she seemed unnerved. Eirwyn understood. She found the feeling of a voice in one's head unpleasant as well. Though her mental defenses were more or less secure, it still felt like an invasion- even if it could only speak to her, and not hear her thoughts in return. Hence why she replied to it aloud. She wasn't willing to compromise the barrier around her mind.

It seemed Eirwyn didn't need to keep top close of an eye on Mephorae, as the illithid seemed to lose interest her. Illithids were slightly less dangerous to you when they lost interest. It all depended. If they decided you didn't make a worthy conversation partner, the next decision might be that you made an acceptable snack.

Even that mental image was enough to make Eirwyn shudder, a barely perceptible quiver about her wrists. She had to try not to stare at the creature's mouth, or rather, the tentacles concealing its mouth, when that thought occurred to her. She had seen an illithid's mouth before. She knew, or thought she knew, what was under those tentacles, and it wasn't pretty. She wasn't quite sure how they went about their meals, but she had a vivid imagination, and it involved tentacles piercing skulls.

She collected herself sharply, straightening her posture.

"There is no official library," she said. "The only people who keep books in this city are noble families. They are available only to friends of the family." Though she was sure the mindflayer would find alternative means.

"Ah--" Mephorae looked a bit surprised to hear her own voice. She felt attention shift to her. "Actually, I was looking for a book myself..."

She shifted her weight before standing up at her full height. "i was sent here to this city to look for a particular tomb of magic. I happen to have lost my map however, and I have no idea where anything is around here."

Her eyes had gained a soft glow about them as she found her backbone while around the mind flayer.

And there it was. Mephorae had the flayers attention again, and it could be felt like a physical weight being dropped on her shoulders when it returned. Aethaerraent rotated smoothly in place, fixing her with its bulging, milky eyes. With those eyes the creature looked blind, but even if it were, it had other senses that made it deadly as ever. You lost the map. it repeated, as if it was quite incredulous anyone could be so careless with information. To a tome of magic.

The flayer hovered in silence then, its stare unwavering, apparently waiting for some further explanation.

Eirwyn's eyes flicked to the woman, and she smiled subtly. Good for her, regaining her composure finally. That was something exceptionally hard to do around a mindflayer, even if you were used to them.

The illithid's reaction to Mephorae's admitance gave the lich need to suppress a laugh. It was perverse, the urge to laugh at this situation. The illithid was perhaps the least funniest thing on this plane, and yet its incredulity directed at the demon seemed to tickle the lich's funny bone. Luckily, she was quite practiced at hiding her reactions, so she seemed to be matter-of-fact and slightly bored.

"If it was a particularly special tome of magic," she said. "And not, say, ABC's for Young Magicians, you are likely out of luck. You don't look like you have enough gold to bribe the snot out of someone."

Mephorae took Aethaerraent's scrtutiny without flinching and returned:

"It's very possible it got singed by flames while I was moving through portals out of Hell. Or I could have simply forgotten it all together."

her eyes failed to look at the illithid much longer and instead fell back to the lich sitting next to them. She had a strange expression in her eyes that did not reflect anywhere on her face. When she spoke it was flat and sounded uninterested in the whole exchange. Mephorae's mouth worked as she chewed on this inside of her lip, mulling over the Lich's words.

"Well, I wouldn't call it so common as that... But I had good intel that it was among the populace here." She thought back and hoped that it was infact good intel and not a prank. These things were not uncommon among the inhabitants of the Nether Dimensions.

An eerie clacking sound emanated from within the center of Aethaerraent's tentacles when Mephorae spoke of having allowed information to be damaged or forgotten. Forgotten! Its incredulity had by this time turned to scathing annoyance, especially as it soaked up some of Mephorae's uncertainty about whether the tome was even real or not.

Well, it was too late. Now that it knew there was a rumor of a prized book, it was going to have to make a thorough search for it, if only to verify that it was indeed just a hoax. But would it be able to stand this careless creature long enough to complete the task?

Bribes are rarely necessary, it stated flatly to both Eirwyn and Mephorae, though its bulging eyes only stared unblinkingly at the demoness. Do you remember anything at all about this map? And now it was listening closely, almost invasively, for any memory that might sift from her brain when the question was asked even if she did not intend to share the information aloud.