Yojan182004.htm

January 18, 2004

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Montmouth Manor...

Grisham stands by the massive spread of the desk. His deft fingers skid over enigmatic knobs and withdraw a small leather-stitched sack. This he hands to Yosannah, holding the item flatly upon a craggy palm.

Yosannah considers the pouch with a skeptical eye, lifting her gaze to the man's as she reaches out a hand and closes her long fingers over the item. She inquires, "This is from Ada then?"

Grisham nods a dry shake of his impeccably groomed graying head, "The Dowager Ada-Shazandra bequeathed you this. I believe there is a not inside." The leather back is sewn with arcane runes and rattles with the eerie chime of loose teeth.

Echo passes through the Oak Doors.

Yosannah holds a small pouch in her hand appearing to fiddle with it in an effort to expose it's contents. She pauses and peers over her shoulder when Echo arrives.

Echo begins to step through the doors, her eyes widening slightly when she spots the library already in use. She nods softly and retreats backwards. "My apologies for the intrusion," she whispers.

Grisham stands tall in front of Yosannah, his lanky arms limp at his sides. The butler eyes Yosannah with a glare of vivid derision, yet bows low and grave as Echo enters the room. He hovers reverently crooked, intoning softly, "Welcome Seraph Grace and good evening." He adds quickly, "No intrusion, mistress, do come in."

Yosannah's expresion is bland as she regards the woman, still hands remain clutched around the tiny pouch.

Echo bows to Grisham and folds her wings behind her as she slips back into the room. She glances to Yosannah and offers a smile, but it quickly fades as her attention drifts. She moves to a nearby table and produces a graphite stylus and some plain white paper. "I was merely seeking someplace quiet to work," she whispers.

As Echo settles herself at a table, Yosannah turns her attention back to the item in her hand, she opens it and spills the contents into her left palm.

Grisham methodically slips a palm over the spot on his dapper vest where his heart ought to be and clicks his heels denoting blissful servitude to Echo, "If it pleases you, Seraph Grace, I shall escort this woman out."

Echo tilts her head, somewhat alarmed. "What? I... she has done nothing to offend me..."

Echo says "And even if she had, it is certainly not my place to decide if she should be removed or not... this is not my home."

A slim strip of tightly rolled parchment falls onto Yosannah's palm along with a multitude of jagged bestial teeth. These macabre items radiate enchantment - exuding an aura of raw yellowed ivory.

Grisham shrugs. He looks disappointed.

Yosannah's focus narrows in the items. She rolls them in her hand for a long moment, inspecting. The pouch is tucked in the rear pocket of her pants. Her right hand sweeps gracefully over the teeth and she intones something inaudible. After a moment, the items begin to emit a soft blue aura. The fingers of her right hand fist closed and the aura fades. She retrieves the parchment and works it open.

Grisham sighs heavily, stepping aside, selecting the farthest corner from Yosannah. His limber frame is prepped to dodge beneath the shelter of a bookcase. The teeth upon Yosannah's palm rattle, aglow with eldritch sapphire light. They seem wickedly keen on jumping from her palm, quivering violently.

The magic is keen to your will - these teeth seem to possess a protective quality - and are posessed with necromantic energies. The parchment reads, "May they guard you well, Yosannah. Blessed be, fair mistress of Pain. ~Ada~

Yosannah's attention turns from the parchment to the items in her hand, fingers splayed so as not to hinder their ricochetting movement.

Echo's logrus defense is for a moment visible around her as a prismatic shimmering sphere that encompasses the table she's at, before it flicks out of visibility again.

Grisham coughs, suddenly stretching tall as though a hot metal rod was rammed through his spine. The butler strolls over to where Echo stands, his sour face chiseled with flawless decorum.

Yosannah's gaze lingers on the items for a moment longer before clutching them in her fisted hand. She opens the pouch and begins to slide the chattering teeth back into its folds.