Magic Potion [Closed]

[Alyssum Crow]

Frost 7th, Year 119, Age of Steel

Kalzasi was a wonderful city, but spending all of her time in the walls of the city was sure to drive Alyssum slowly insane if she wasn't careful. It was loud and there were too many people, not healthy for someone of her nature and disposition. Even what could losely be described as the slums had too many people and too much noise. On top of the fact she'd gotten woken up on multiple occasions. She was luckily for her delicate hearing and her nature as a light sleeper. She probably would have been robbed by now otherwise. Not like she really had much to steal. Most of her money, except a small fund she left herself for living expenses, went into the bank and sat there in an investment fund so it could get bigger.

She still needed more money. It was going to be a while before she even got close to her ultimate goal... Opening a business and getting her skills in order for better jobs would be the first take in that regard. If she could manage to polish off all her magical abilities she could start pedaling her services as a mage, which would start making her real good money. Especially if she managed to get a business up and running. It didn't need to be something extravagant. She could buy herself a nice caravan cart with enough dedicate effort. Not only could she live out of it, but she could pedal her wares out of it if she had the proper labs and supplies. Maybe. Hopefully. Most of her crafts she could do on the fly, but she wasn't sure about Runeforging. That would require a dedicated labratory with an actual forge, unless she was willing to stop at a tower ever season to forge and resupply. She wouldn't be able to make custom orders as easily, but that wouldn't be the main focus of her work.

It was going to be difficult to work out the kinks.

Her other trade, teaching, was a bit easier to pass off traveling. It was just a matter of finding clientel, and it was one that she could potential make a lot of money off in the long term. Especially if she managed to get herself organized as a proper business.

It was going to be diffcult no matter what she did, but if she managed to push herself hard enough then there was the chance she might actually be able to reach her goal! If she put all her money into the bank it would take her a couple years at most! As long as she was willing to forget a couple parts of that wish... And take into account the costs for starting up a buisness. Not to mention she'd need to spend a while polishing her skills to a high enough level where this would be feasible. Okay, so maybe her dream was still a ways out of her reach. But she was going to try, damn it! She had the years to waste, she was a Rathari. This little goal of hers might not be her Purpose, but neither was her obsession with magic. Yet she gave it just as much attention as her Purpose which was still so vauge she had no clue what she was even supposed to be doing with it.

Which was part of why she was so carefully looking at the ground. Part of a goal as grandious as the one she'd designed was trying to scrounge up every cent she could. Even a singel df was valuable as it could be added to the lump sum that would grow and grow the more she pinched pennies and worked her jobs. Currently she could only make about as much as others were willing to pay her, and sure she'd found a couple jobs to support her for the time being, but in the long run it wouldn't be enough. How, might one ask, should she go about making some extra cash and progressing her skills? Through legally grey means, of course! Alyssum wasn't a goody two shoes, she knew some of the things she didn weren't the best things in the world and she wasn't going to try and pretend she was perfect or some angel. Mortals are messy, dirty, chaotic creatures, and that was why they were beautiful. That's what Naori preached anyhow, and Alyssum was very willing to listen.

She wasn't some Paragon of justice and she was more than willing to sell potions in a back alley for cheap prices as long as she was getting paid. She wasn't going to ask the prupose of these potions, she wasn't going to claim she'd made those potions, and she certainly wasn't going to act like these potions were perfect and completely without faults and 100% save to use on mortals.

She'd given them a disclaimer and if anything got poisoned because they bought her cheap back alley potions that were brewed in a rusty soup pot them it was their dumb ass fault for thinking it was a smart idea. Sure, Alyssum was a 'good girl' and would never intentionally hurt someone, but someone else's stupidity was entirely on them!

She was currently leaned forward into a bush, tail waving in the air while she pressed her face into the evergreen leaves and looked for anything useable or familiar. Or anything that she could play with and test to see if it had good alchemical properties. She could always work with new regents, expand her ever growing recipie book. The one she got from her adopted uncle was good and all, but it wasn't comprehensive by any means and it only really covered the plants in Atinaw. Things like worrelwood and rabbit fur bushes, and the various uses for them that had been drilled into her head as a pup.

The plants in Kalzasi were entirely new, and sure it was Frost so there wasn't much, but there were more evergreen plants in Kalzasi than there were in Atinaw because it tended to get and stay so cold. It wasn't just plants she looked for either. Animal parts, minerals, and various parts of a plant like sleeping bulbs and seeds could still be used in an alchemical process if you knew how to do it.

She drew herself out of the bush, triumpantly holding a fang from who the heck knew what. She'd have to test it later, and maybe see able getting it identified by someone who knew more than she did. She wondered if there were any other alchemists in town? She hadn't run into any yet except for the one shop she'd tried to get a job at and despite being the only alchemy shop in Kalzasi it was admittedly pretty basic. Or perhaps, the lack of competition was the reason it was so basic. Most of it was simple, he might as well have just marketed himself a pharmacy with fast acting drugs. Or poisons, if you wanted to look behind the counter and shill out a little extra cash. That was one of the things Alyssum didn't intentionally sell unless she knew what it was going to be used for.

Just as she was pushing the fang into one of her belt pouches her ears perked and swiveled as she picked up on an interesting noise. Foot steps? Who could be out in the Kalzasi wilds this time fo season? She'd have to be cautious.

[Taelian]

Remember, Taelian...

Breathe.

It's not enough to feel the flame. You need to know its contours; understand its depths. This fire is different than others; it's not a force of nature. It's a gift from a wrathful God. Like a text, it needs to be explored to be understood.

He felt it. But did he understand it? The Siltori had never been the best with the elusive magic. Few of his order really were more than... half-decent; they Enkindled their weapons and occasionally did something more, a planned spell usually a part of a larger assortment. Perhaps the centerpiece; but nothing extravagant. A Flamelance, or at best a Trail. Aldrin and his Black Revenants were the good ones - bound to the Bedchamber they experienced a fearlessness of death, and they engaged with Shrivenflame as if it were an aspect of their biology. Always washing down on others with their grim fire -- always alight and alive.

Focus.

Flamelance. A javelin of fire, of sorts -- crafted in the free hand, the one not wielding a claymore. Taelian prepared the bolt within the firmness of his grip and held at it, tightly. It didn't really hurt, though it was hot. The fire was not designed to truly burn until it left his palm.

Four feet long. He tried to craft it into its proper shape, but felt that he couldn't. It was difficult, at least, to get it to expand yet not unrestrained. He witnessed it shrink and expand almost completely in tune with his breaths, the rhythm of his internal movements impacting the shape and size of the flame. Yet once he was ready to launch it, it began to winnow, and as he flung it forward it fizzled into nothing. Taelian grit his teeth and exhaled.

At his level of mastery, Sigilic Pyromancy was more about shaping and stoking fires. But the fact that he'd forgotten how to even form a Flamelance in his long journey was truly a shame.

Taelian focused again, and began to forge another ethereal weapon. The spear of fire once again formed within the shape of his grip, expanding on either side of his closed fist as the skewering weapon danced dramatically with the moving winds. The chill did not abate it, as it wasn't regular fire. Taelian had always liked that about the art; it was difficult to put the flames out. Even if someone defended against them, for example, they would endlessly burn against whatever defense had been postured.

Finally, he flung the lance and it remained intact with his motion. Taelian smiled brightly, giddily, and pursued the javelin as it flung forward, past the visible treeline. His aim had been poor and he'd missed the bark he intended to hit, but the Siltori was curious to see if the lance had kept its shape as it flew forward and struck its mark. He rustled through branches and leaves, loudly, and stepped through the brush into a small clearing. The fire wasn't there, meaning it had essentially decomposed.

The Siltori frowned. Returning his blade to its sheath upon his right waist, Taelian extended his arm upward and drew it back, prepared to craft a lance yet again. This time, he pivoted on his feet as he prepared to cast it, only for his eyes to catch the peering gaze of a woman right as he prepared to throw. The Pyromancer jumped and quickly flung the lance not far from his own feet, before stepping back thrice quickly stumbling, nearly making a fall.

"Sorry," he quietly said, regaining his footing. He had no interest in actually interacting with the woman, and so he decided to move forward when he realized -- the shape of the lance had been kept. It still burned, plunged into the soil, right where he'd sent it. The man enthusiastically stared.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, though it was more... regular speaking voice to anyone else. "I formed a Lance. Yay."

[Alyssum Crow]

She watched the man curious. His reaction alone was enough to indicate he wasn't too terrible a threat. At least, from first assumptions he didn't seem it. The moment he'd noticed her he'd thrown down whatever magical creation he'd made. A weapon of some kind? It wasn't a type of magic she was immediately able to recognize. Which was odd, considering the amount of time she'd spent studying the different types even if she didn't really have the intention of expanding past Semblance. She decided to poke at his own aura, only to notice something she'd never noticed before. It was so... bland. Almost colorless, a bit like it wasn't even there. It was slightly unnerving, as even inanimate or soulless objects had auras to some degree. Rocks had auras, plants had auras, people had auras. But she had to literally squint at him to catch a glance of the wisping color.

No, it wasn't that it wasn't there. It was more like his aura didn't have an effect so to speak. Sure she could see the residue of magic clinging to his form and the world around him, but he himself was colorless. She'd only ever seen something similar in shock victims. The kind of people who went catatonic after something terrible happened, completely crumbling in on themselves and going blank until they felt like they were safe enough to actually be themselves again. He didn't remind Alyssum of a shock victim. She wasn't sure what it was about him, but something about his aura just gave her the chills. Not in the way that he was dangerous, more so like there was something he needed fixing.

Her first response was that she should probably leave, she didn't know what his reactions would be and there was the chance he could prove dangerous. That being said, she had wings and he didn't seem like he was very good at throwing those spears of his yet so she felt she could escape given she kept a decent range. She crossed out that option. Her second reaction was to go into doctor mode. Try to figure out what was up and fix it. People tended not to like having their businesses butted into by a random Rathari girl peddling potions who honestly looked more like a child than an adult. Even those who were able to identify the fact she was old enough to drink tended to struggle with pinning down her actual age.

Her third reaction was simple. She kinda wanted to fuck with him. Just a little bit! Nothing harmful! She wanted to press and prod, poke and inspect. Just see how he reacted, see if she could elicit some type of change in his aura. Make him act mortal. She could use a little acting practice, and you know, she could probably use this as a way to practice Semblance. She usually didn't talk while she was looking at an aura, mostly because she needed to concentrate a lot to keep her focus. This would be good practice!

"It's fine, it's fine," she took his sorry in stride enough though she couldn't tell if it was a genuine sorry or not. Her own reaction was quiet, but that was because she struggled to raise her voice. She played with the fang in her fingers, glancing at it a couple of times while also glancing at him. His attention quickly jumped to the lance.

"Congratulations!" She said joyfully, all but shouting to make sure her voice was heard. Of course, to him, it probably just sounded like someone speaking normally despite the strain she was putting on her voice. Her expression changed slightly as she continued to speak. "A shame you didn't hit me with it," she said. Dry, sarcastic, a half attempt at nihilistic humor that would probably go over most people's heads. She braced her wings in case he took it as an invitation.

"Oh, but I've never seen magic like that before," again her tone seemed to change on a dime, her expression lighting up with ease as she ran through the gambit of emotions his appearance had evoked. "What is it? Can you tell me about it? You're practice right now, aren't you? Do you mind if I watch?"

If her intention was to be annoying, them asking way questions was usually a pretty good way to succeed. The entire time she kept her gaze focused on his aura, watching it for any shift in emotion. If he let her watch him practice then she could probably get a good look at the aura of his magic too, and that would be something interesting. A magic she'd never studied before, oh, what joy!

Your move, funny elf!

[Taelian]

The woman he'd run into was very odd. First, her appearance; she was like some... animal-human-elf hybrid and it sort of unsettled him. He knew what she was, of course... a Rathari. They generally looked similar to her but her numerous irregularities, such as her wings and tail, made her stand out more than others. Taelian wasn't sure whether to characterize it as cute, gauche or somewhat frightening. Her manner of speaking had her lean towards the latter: she... lamented not being hit by his Flamelance? Right. A joke. At least she wasn't particularly upset, but then, Taelian would not have particularly cared.

I've never seen magic like that before.

"It's not from these lands," he told her. Taelian had no difficulty informing others of Sigilic Pyromancy; it had unique, interesting origins. "It's from the Kingdom of Silor, originally. The Elves, who made themselves immortal beneath the feigned wisdom of Riala Elaine, were stricken with the curse of the Black Sigil. This killed them when they lived for too long: but some used it, and distributed it, as a sort of multi-purpose aether battery with a direct tie to the soul. Sigilic Pyromancy is the direct result of that," he explained. Taelian glanced at her in a standoffish manner, as if to forcefully show his disinterest in the woman.

"We still use it - us Siltori. But no longer to warmonger. Instead, we use it to kill our oppressors."

The Dranoch. Maybe she had heard of them, maybe she hadn't. Considering the near impossibility of leaking any information of the current ongoings in the Elainian realm, it wasn't surprising to him that most people did not even know their nation was being ruled by a tyrannical race. They perhaps knew what the Dranoch were - if only to engage in their playful tales of fright and horror - but not their true effect on the land they had been first born in.

"I'm not a great Pyromancer," he proclaimed. "I only really know Enkindle and Flamelance. But sure -- I'll show you, I suppose."

The man tapped the hilt of his claymore, pressing his fingertips into the handle before running them northward, through the length of the cold steel. Fire began to bleed into the blade, which was lit by veins of amber colors and made undoubtedly hot. Incredibly so; enough to be felt at a slight distance, even through the wintry chill.

"This is my Enkindled weapon," he told her. "It's a conduit for my magic, now. When I used that spear, just now, it was actually through my blade -- in a way. But... I have to ask, why do you even care? You can't be initiated into this magic, regardless. Not by me. There's no purpose in you knowing it; you should get back to whatever it was that you were doing. Picking flowers, or something...?" he eyed her, suspiciously.

[Alyssum Crow]

The color of his aura ever so vaguely took on a mixture of greens, browns, and bright yellows. Sickly colors, she noted. The kind someone would display out of fear. But they were faint enough she assumed it was either just a general hesitance born of the fact she was a stranger or her appearance. Most Rathari looked like relatively 'normal' animals. At least compared to her. She'd been described as a borderline macabre mixture on quite a few occasions, made all the worse by her youthful and borderline childish features and the vaguest hint of elf that was only present in a fourth of the Rathari population or less. Always Neoalts, too. It was still faint though, as though the emotion itself was detached from the man. Interesting. Her attempt to evoke something of his nature had worked, but it was disjointed in a way that made her curious. Definitely not a shock victim, at least, that wasn't the direct cause of his disposition.

Most Siltori shared some level of PTSD.

She listened intently as the man explained the root of his magic. Her expression softened as she focused entirely on the impromptu history lesson, her act falling away for a couple of moments. Nodding along silently as he spoke. She was vaguely familiar with the history of the region and country only because Isra had made sure to drill every piece of historical knowledge she possibly possessed into the Rathari's skull when she was a pup. Silor history included. While the details were still a little fuzzy thanks to the current state of being for the country, she at least knew the general overview.

And she was also at least somewhat familiar with the Dranoch. When Taelian mentioned the Siltori's oppressors, her face screwed up in an expression of very visible disgust. They were the reason why she and Isra had never directly visited, at least, according to Isra. "Wretched, beastly creatures," she said. Though it came out sounding more like a muttered whisper. Her expression implied she knew that they weren't just children's stories to be treated lightly, but true dangers. All Rathari knew that, because it was drilled into their heads as pups and children that it was one of the few places in the world that the wise must never wander. People who wandered too close oft went missing, or barely escaped with a menagerie of injuries that could sometimes fester into a disease. Rarely was one foolish enough to get that far, but the only cure at that point according to most was to send them back to Wraedan.

Of course, most Rathari still didn't know of the Dranoch, only the inherent danger. Part of Alyssum's education regarding the Dranoch had come from the few and far between Siltori who managed to survive and escape, as well as the Scholia Arcana. If you were looking for a piece of knowledge, there was usually someone in the Scholia Arcana who knew it. At least, that's how her life had been so far. Even then, she only knew the rough details. Not any specifics about them or any individual names regarding the Dranoch currently running Silor. It was still enough to earn her sympathy, though it might have been wasted on this man.

She continued to listen as he explained more of the magic to her, the individual pieces of his magic that he was familiar with and could achieve. She used her Semblance to watch the way the aether shifted around him. How it changed his aura, and how it changed the aura of the weapon. Watching new pathways and the flow of the world change around him as he used his ability. Then her expression shifted.

"I'm not expecting any kind of initiation," she said bluntly, her expression shifting to bored the moment he stopped explaining the magic and started eyeing her like she had some kind of malignant ulterior motive. "The reason I asked is simple. I was curious. I revel in the darkness that is the unknown and tearing it apart for answers brings me joy in life. Studying that which is unfamiliar. All knowledge is interesting, valuable in its own regard," she said before pausing for a minute. "Sometimes I have to wonder if perhaps that was my purpose in a past life, discovering unknown things that no one else could dream of. I wonder if I kept those secrets to myself. I wonder if I published them and made them known to the world. Regardless, curiosity as damnable as it is is a facet of my personality."

She tilted her head for a moment, watching him closely. "Of course, all knowledge can be powerful. Now I can know even more things. I can recognize a practitioner of your craft based on their aura, which lets me be even more familiar with my control of Semblance. Or maybe I could take a little bit of your blood when you aren't looking and save it for later. I've heard that powerful alchemists can use the blood of mages to inscribe their abilities onto items," she paused, a grin forming on her features. "Just kidding," she said in a singsong. It was impossible to tell if she was actually kidding about the second half, but the first half of her statement regarding the fact she was studying him via Semblance was brutally honest.

"Don't worry though, I'm not going to do anything terrible to you. You're... interesting. I like interesting things. They're different. Of course, sometimes they can be a little sad. Like you. I wonder what you'll grow into, what you'll make of yourself. Oh, I'd be so interested to see! Let's be friends! Oooh, I'll tell you what. As my first act now that we're friends, I'll help you get better at your magic. I might have an easier time identifying why something is going wrong if you tell me. After all, I am a Semblance mage. Errors with magic are usually based in the flow of aether, I can see where the flow might get messed up, as well as what you can do to improve it. Then we can go down to the Warrens and practice for real, oh, I've been looking for someone else to go with me! My boss said he might but there's more safety in numbers and you seem very, very strong!!!"

The only assurance he had that she was telling the truth was the fact she'd been brutally honest up until this point.

[Taelian]

He wasn't entirely certain he could get on board with the woman's personality -- she seemed... somewhat eccentric. Actually, very eccentric. He wasn't sure he'd met anyone so blatantly abrasive to her own - and adjacent - boundaries, and he'd met many strange souls in Sil-Elaine. After all, he'd known Dranoch.

She spoke of how she did not want an initiation. That was good, considering she would not be able to fulfill that desire no matter what, unless she found a way to replace Taelian with Aldrin from across the Imperial Badlands. She then spoke of how she simply wished to learn of dark things, the unknown--she sounded quite odd. Tearing it apart... the only way to bring her joy? Now she was sharing him some strange baggage of hers. Taelian, ever lost in conversations such as these and particularly irregular ones, had no concept of how to possibly respond to her. Everything he wished to say essentially boiled down to 'good for you'.

She proceeded to speak about her curiosity, and how it was integral to her. He found himself totally content to not know that, and so knowing it felt like fairly useless information to him. He narrowed his eyes and began to scowl.

And she continued more. She spoke of his aura, of the power of knowledge, and how she might be useful to him as a semblance mage. The 'services' she could offer to him in effectively improving his usage of aether, or... whatever. She had previously attempted to flatter him relentlessly, telling him of her interest in interesting things, assuming that they were now friendly towards one another (and of course that he was interesting), and now she was even going as far as to guess that he may be interested in going to the Warrens with her.

Of course, because he was... strong? What was her purpose for those words? This felt like a scam, or some attempt to lure him to the Warrens to kill him. Had the Dranoch caught onto him? She had been shadowing him from nearby -- it was a tactic of theirs...

"What are you trying to sell me, lady?" he asked her, bluntly. "I'm not interested in your miracle Semblance guidance, or having my organs harvested by going to the Warrens. If you're a fucking Dranoch, just tell me already and we can fight. I'm not going to fall prey to your deception," he snarled.

Taelian drew his long blade. He prepared for combat, feeling it was the only measurable possibility after all of the red flags she had raised. She was a criminal, a murderer, a Dranoch, a con. Something betwixt those perhaps, but there was something very wrong with her all the same.

"Raise your weapon, Botchling. I'll bear sight to your filth no more."

[Alyssum Crow]

Considering her actions up until this point, it would be a lie to say she was shocked. Truly. She'd been pushing him. Hard. She wanted some kind of reaction. Any kind of reaction really. And she sure as hell was finally getting one. How interesting. What little emotional control. Hmm. Yes. She finally had her answer. Child. He was undoubtedly and unquestionably a child. Regardless of his actual age. She saw his aura flare, how little control of his emotions he honestly had. They seemed blunted and broken and jumbled. Well enough so, that he finally snapped, as her eyes were starting to hurt and she didn't want to push her Semblance too far. Overstepping would be... unpleasant. However, the nearness to such was worth it as she finally had her answer. Yes. He was, in fact, a child. Treat as such.

She'd been preparing for the moment he finally snapped so it wasn't too terribly hard to flare her wings and throw herself backward a good enough distance, putting a little bit of ground between herself and Taelian. Enough so that he would still be able to hear her while also not being able to directly strike her with his sword. If he wanted to do such he'd need to throw his weapon at her, which is part of why she continued to keep her wings braced for a take-off at any moment.

In spite of that, she kept her posture relatively relaxed. "I don't wanna fight you, kiddo. I don't do fighting. No combat skills, ya see," she said with a shrug, flashing him a smile. While she did have pointed teeth like most carnivorous Rathari, they were very evidently not that of a Dranoch like he was trying to call her out for being. "I just enjoy messing with you. I am genuinely curious. You seem broken. It might sound like a con, but I'd like to help if I could. But I know I probably can't. And you probably won't let me. That's okay though. You're my friend now, there's no escaping that," the words rolled off her tongue like some kind of grand declaration.

For a moment, she sighed, letting the facade drop away. "I wonder though..." she muttered to herself, far too quiet for him to hear as she watched him carefully. There was no doubt he'd probably try to flee if she didn't or hadn't said anything that would make him want to stay. But, he didn't look like a traveler. At the very least, that meant he hopefully wouldn't be leaving Kalzasi soon. As much as he thought she was probably some kind of con artist, she did have some genuine good intentions.

She held no fondness for the Dranoch, and all the compassion in the world for those currently under their rule. She'd never heard of a man like this though. His aura... it was strange. Foreign and wrong in some ways. She wondered if there were more like him, if there was any way to help. There was a small twist in her chest and she placed a hand over her own heart. She couldn't imagine being broken like that. Or maybe she already way. Would she ever really know for sure? She knew there was something wrong, but she didn't know if it was the same problem in a different skin. Probably not, but...

"I know what it's like to be broken." There was something very genuine in that last statement. She would probably see him around, so it was time to go. She spread her wings fully and too off.

She'd finish collecting regents later.

[Taelian]

Taelian had no idea what the hell she was talking about. 'Broken'. How did she know anything about him, or come to any conclusion like that? Perhaps she thought she had the ability to read others, but her conclusions were absurd to him. Broken. That was not what a Famished was. They were... dampened, like always being muffled; living beneath the guise of a thick blanket that veiled over their skin. Sometimes, Taelian had the ability to pull that blanket over himself, and to see the world wholly but only for a short time. Those times were momentous, long or short, and utterly random. They came during moments of anger, joy, jealousy; negative emotions were more common, if only because the strange inconsistency of his behaviors pushed all others away.

So he could only help to be hateful, and argumentative, and sometimes deranged. Though he tried to ignore his violent thoughts as they came, even though right now they flooded in with a twisting malice they had made familiar.

"I'm not your friend," he responded with irritation. Her argument that it wasn't a con only made it sound more like one -- and he didn't understand where she got the notion that they were friends. What the hell did she even know about him? He'd threatened to kill her. How did that make them friends?

I wonder though... she began to ponder, speaking beneath her breath. This action only made the on-edge man all the more suspicious, not understanding the reasoning for her cryptic displays.

"Leave," he commanded, brandishing his weapon as he his teeth ground together, grimacing plainly for the woman to see. They weren't sharp like hers or his named adversary; but they were postured in a way that certainly displayed his threatening intent. She began to go. Taelian swung his blade forward as she began to take off, performing Flash, bringing forth a frontal dome before him that followed after his fiery Claymore. It was meant to obscure him, and it worked; the dramatic display acted as an all-encompassing cover as Taelian quickly skittered off behind the fire, fleeing into the woods where he hoped to distance himself from the supposed Botchling.

[Paragon]

Alyssum

Experience: 8/8
Magic: Yes, Semblance

Persuasion: Bullying someone into showing emotions
Semblance: Recognizing a "bland" aura
Semblance: Everything has an aura
Semblance: Colorless auras sometimes indicate a shock victim
Semblance: Recognizing pyromancy in auras
Semblance: Recognizing what the lead up to overstepping feels like
Semblance: Angry auras
Semblance: Hesitant auras

Taelian: Funny Elf
Taelian: A New Friend!!!
Taelian: Doesn't realize we're friends yet, but he doesn't get a choice
Taelian: Seems broken, I should help

Taelian

Experience: 8/8
Magic: Yes, Sigilic Pyromancy

Sigilic Pyromancy: Flash
Sigilic Pyromancy: Flash: Frontal Dome
Sigilic Pyromancy: Shaping a Flamelance
Sigilic Pyromancy: Arcing a Flamelance throw
Sigilic Pyromancy: Flamelance does not burn the palm when held
Intimidation: Threatening someone
Intimidation: Using the threat of violence to force someone away
Investigation: Detecting a supposed 'con'

Alyssum: A very strange woman
Alyssum: Rathari
Alyssum: Dranoch(?)


Notes: Ha. Oh man. That was a close one for Alyssum. It's interesting to see the thought process of each character when faced with a confrontational situation. Well done. PM if you have comments, questions or concerns.