Café de Nuit

"I assure you I serve none other than the Hawk, Kingfuherer of Falkovnia, Vlad Drakov. What is this remarkable nonsense of which you speak?"

Helfrieds words echoe in the dusty cellar, his only reply the faint hint of a dusty, wheezing laugh.

F"Better ignore the wordplays of a sword-made shade Helfried"

After taking a few seconds, no more, to look at the sword and examine the fine blade and the exquisite runes that run through it, Seradon sheathes the sword if able to do so and picks up a cloth and covers the blade. Before his protective spell runs out, he has made a bangle of the sword and carries it by the cloth, avoiding to touch the handle or the blade of the cursed thing.

M/F: "OK, I have the accursed thing, should we go back up now? I want to bury that in a backpack or something"

"Yes better put it away and then we can try and talk to Huldra again. She seems to know a way to destroy it. If it is the direct sun light maybe we can put it at the garden tomorrow morning."

"Awright. let's get outta this dusty place, I need a drink and that dame better tell us what we need. I don't care bout hurtin her if she don't tell us what we need. We bin jerked around enough. Faerie shmaerie I say." Unwrapping his chain he stomps up the stairs and to the kitchen without waitin for anyone.

Seradon is a bit suprised by Gorn's words. M: "Gorn... since you're part faerie your self, don't you feel more kinship towards Huldra?"

Gorn calls back "I aint no faerie, I'm a caliban ya dolt! Now yer with me or yer not!"

M/F: "Yeah, I think it's past time we confronted the fey lady upstairs"
Seradon starts to move towards the Cellar's entrance, as he passes by Gorn he says
M: "Callibans are similar to the fey Gorn, that's why I said you're part fey. Your people are obviously bigger than traditional faeries, but still you have things in common with the fae folk"

Catherine follows them without talking, after all she doesn't know mcuh about callibans or fey.

The passage seemed long on the way down with so many interruptions, but in fact it is only about twenty feet to the trapdoor. Huldra ends her song as you emerge and gives her sly grin.

"Sweet success!"

Seradon doesn't release the sword around the fey, but he still holds it folder in the cloth.
M: "OK fey lady. We have the sword. I'm not sure about this, but I've heard you people don't want us expressing our gratitude with words or you take offence. My mother was telling me to leave small tokens of my appreciation in front of the door if I wanted to thank the fey; a favor for a favor.
Now, do you want some tea before you leave the house for your own residence? I've bought some nice sage."
Seradon takes out of his pocket the little bag with sage he bought the previous day and throws it on the table.
F: "Helfried, I offer Huldra the Fey some tea for her advice and help and politely ask her to leave after that"

Gorn doesn't leave, just leans against the wall, chain in his hand. He eyes Huldra, trying to gauge her body language as Seradon speaks with her.

Huldra laughs

"So suspicious, Spellcaster? I take your tea and deftly depart. Satisfied is the sword of sullen smiths, done the dreams of dull waiting. Bathe it in blood and gain glory! I wait to watch your desperate deeds!"

She slips smoothly forwards, scoops up the gift and a shimmer flickers towards the door. As it ends a small animal, perhaps a squirrel? is briefly seen flicking away.

The house is silent as dawn approaches, no songs or visions to disturb its owners. Weariness settles upon you as if you had walked a hundred miles, and all you can think of is sleep.

As you retire, the peace of the house seems to settle around you, the first echoes of the dawn chorus beginning... and then abruptly breaking off.

From downstairs comes a noise. Not the sound of ghosts or strange song, but a sound that stirs a memory within you even so. Tunk...tunk....tunk...

It seems to approcah, a rhythmic impact, slightly more muffled. You are awake, you think, but unable to move a muscle. Even your eyes no longer blink.

Tunk....tunk... the noise seems to come closer, then pauses. It begins again, but this time fading, growing more distant and then, abruptly, stopping.

The strange paralysis leaves you, and you can move once more. The sleepyness also passes, and your obsession with retiring to bed now seems strange. Investigation will reveal new objects have been left in each sleeping room: weapons glittering slightly in the darkness, armour sleek and well made, a spellbook looking slightly thicker than before.

But the sword Tyrfing is nowhere to be found