Blivon's Oblivious Beneficiary

Blivon's Oblivious Beneficiary
Date of Scene:	03 August 2013
Location:	Flourgis
Synopsis:	Blivon encounters a moderately dazed dark elf, after mistaking her for his benefactor. He, in turn, has a discussion and becomes Morrighan's benefactor, in a sense of the word, even though she's relatively clueless to half of what he mentions.
Cast of Characters:	Blivon, Morrighan Alazne

---

Blivon has posed:
As has been claimed by some, the Watchtower of Fluorgis spires upward from the grounds of a seedier neighborhood, but, being made of some material harder than flesh and bone, it's weathered the hard times, and so when it receives penetration, it's oft enough enacted by a visitor, as opposed to animated bodies, which tend to be pierced by bullets and blades in these kinds of places, on particularly bad days. Just a day or so previously, the six foot something shaman had been in Traverse Town, seeking out one who was known for consultations, who went by the name 'Rosemarie', but on this day, he wanted to examine the city of flora, since he'd heard positive reviews.

Most of it was pleasant, yet, when Blivon reached the Watchtower area, he senses a distinct dip in the upkeep, but to him, this just means that nature was taking its course, as the sapient inhabitants were too busy squabbling over whatever it was they fought over; to Blivon, the stakes mattered less than the behavior itself, despite the fact that he didn't condemn aspirants, for he himself had ambitions, even if the shaman was not the type to amass as much as he could, at the expense of others- he only foraged for that which he felt was the bare essentials. A good examination of alternate cultures was a great way to expand his knowledge of the World of Ruin, if he was to see what atmospheres were like belonging to those from walks of life that were anything but luxurious, for he was not one to delve into the field of philanthropy if he had the kind of attitude one adopts when they cast aspersions ignorantly from their ivory towers.

Providence shines on him, for this tower was hardly of such splendorous substance, else it'd've never been 'graced' with such neglect!

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Morrighan, though the name was not known to the girl who currently wandered Fluorgis. On this day it would seem that she was alone, without the company of Ivo or any of the other Shard Seekers. Her curious wanderings eventually led her to a far corner of the city. The shadiness of the neighborhood was entirely lost on the dark elf and she was lucky enough to not have gotten caught up in any schemes so far.

Passing through the streets, she eventually slowed down to a stop in front of a tall tower. "...Ooooh..." She mumbled out in awe, staring upwards at the structure for several moments before beginning to approach. Entering inside, Morrighan looked about, finding little to be of actual interest once she was there. ....The place looked well kept, save for some barrels strewn about. And the stairs looked to be impassable. "Huh....." Whether or not she realized she had company....nah, she totally didn't.

Blivon has posed:
The tall witch-doctor was studying the inside of the tower, after having soaked up some of the local customs, not actually assimilating them into his own pattern of gesture or manner, but merely being information he could acknowledge, that probably impressed him in a minor way, since there were no evident, conscious shifts in his outlook; this isn't something Morrighan would be able to judge accurately, anyway. When she enters into the spire, Blivon spied her from his position on a ledge farther up, which seemed as though it would've been incredibly tough to reach with the collapsed steps.

"Ah, be right down!", is spoken, followed by a display of his own uncanny brand of leaping, which wasn't the most spectacular thing viewable in the World of Ruin, even if it was impressive in its own way, Blivon steps off the foothold he'd managed to secure, and enters into a free-fall, almost tailspinning as he descends towards Morrighan's location. Via some peculiar power that had been, his descent actually slackened in acceleration as he reached the bottom of his drop, magically cushioning his plummet, which would've ordinarily costed the average individual either a pair of broken patellas, or worse, some ruined vertebrae; the druid, on the other hand, is unscathed by the little nosedive.... all part of his training as a former Ivalician dragoon, granting him the ability to almost bypass any standard obstructions that come with steep elevations. A small cloud of dust rises when his feet hit the floor, because there's still considerable force behind the impact, necessitating that he contract his knees to help absorb the residual force of the fall, before he straightened to his full height of eighty three and a half inches.

Blinking at Morrighan, he puts his fingers to his lips, a bit startled, mostly due to the fact that he'd thought he recognized her. The warrior-priest hoped that he hadn't frightened Morrighan by suddenly 'dropping in' on her so dramatically, but he figured he was only convening with somebody he already knew; the fact that this woman is a stranger means that he must recognize a need to possibly make amends for his intrusion, being that he really didn't have much business foisting his attentions on her, "My apologies. I thought you were Miss Rosemarie, you both have nearly the same skin tone, the long, tapered ears.... with a starkly pale coloration of hair to contrast with the aforementioned skin." He bows a little, "I don't normally barge into other people's personal space....." He'd only landed about a meter from her- and the fact that he'd come from that high above might've caused a mild spook, since large, metal objects falling usually mean that a lot of pain would ensue shortly after, if a collision were to have occurred!

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Huh?" Morrighan mumbled quietly at the sound of a voice above, pausing in her curious wandering to look up to see Blivon sailing downwards towards her position. She briefly wondered if he was going to splat, but then his descent slowed and he landed safely. "Eep!" She cried briefly, double taking upon his landing.

Well, he was safe. Okay then. Recovering her composure, her eyes inclined upwards a tad, her head tilting curiously as she watched the warrioer-priest scrutinize her. "....Rosemarie?" That's a name she'd never heard before. Listening to his general description of her racial features, Morrighan only continued to stare in confusion at the man.

His apology was lost on her. "....Um....do you live here?" She decided to ask, vaguely pointing above. "And...how come you're not hurt? You were falling..."

Blivon has posed:
Under most circumstances, someone would've become paste if they'd hurled themselves down, but since neither he nor Morrighan were injured from the fall, she quickly recomposes herself- quite a quick recovery for the shock to've worn off so quickly, perchance it was that she was specialized in the departments of intellectual pursuit, mental training, and.... or maybe she was just really desensitized from a lot of harsh experiences, if she hadn't actually undergone official accustoming to unusual situations. But with his apology seemingly unnecessary, he dismisses it as unimportant, and doesn't dwell on the fact that she isn't begrudging him for his breach in proper protocol, due to ignorance- if she'd tried to incriminate the man, he might've made a stronger attempt to redeem himself, but eventually, if she'd been taking advantage of his 'good samaritan' nature, he would've moved on- it's one thing to be apologetic, and another to be a groveling heap of guilt-stricken, self-imposed martyrdom.

Keeping a polite distance between himself and the woman, so as to give her elbow-room, he nodded his head, "I do live here, but this is not my home, if that is what you are actually asking me." He likes to be precise when it comes to strangers; with Artemis, he was a little more casual, but that's due to an extended duration of what both expected from one another, and having a mutual comprehension of how the other thought.... to a degree.

"I am not hurt because I applied a technique that is known to lancers of my world of origin, which absorbs some of the force before actually touching the ground..... sort of like 'air-brakes', but not exactly." Deciding that he might be here a few minutes, he pads over to a crate, and seats himself on it, settling on it gently at first to test its strength, so as not to thrust all of his weight upon the thing at one time! "I will not be making my departure for a few minutes, so, in that span, do you feel that I may be of service to you?" He asks, generously- there is nothing in his tone to suggest he's being uppity, or flippant; it should sound like a sincere question, even to the ears of one who has the socialization level of a pre-teen.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Oh...You live here...but it's not your home? That..." She paused then, trying to find the right word. "...Doesn't make sense." She finally decided on, bringing a finger to her cheek and tilting her head slightly the other way. "...Well...okay." Morrighan watched then as he explained the general mechanics of how he wasn't hurt, moving to sit down meanwhile.

"I don't really get it, but..." The dark elf just shook her head then and let it go, not quite sure what to say about it any further. Upon being asked about whether or not he could be of service to her, Morrighan simply blinked slowly and...offered no response initially. "I...don't know? I was just...wondering what was around here..." She shook her head then and continued to stare. "....Who are you?"

Well, that was the only thing she could think to ask at the moment. There was no other sort of 'service' that really came to her mind as necessary.

Blivon has posed:
Blivon nods to Morrighan, then tilts his head curiously as she declares that what he's said doesn't make any sense, to which he grins mirthfully and remarks, "I'm alive, and I'm here." He hopes this will explain the situation to Morrighan, since her ability to comprehend his words is falling short of perfection- maybe she didn't understand the language that well; some worlds were allegedly filled with folk who spoke in different tongues, for instance, there was a rumor that a people called the 'Al Bhed' differed in how they spoke.

He wasn't going to blame her for not having the capacity to process his words properly, because he felt that each person was gifted in their own way, and maybe she had something great to offer the world that'd yet been untapped! Morrighan persisted in stressing that she couldn't make sense of his words, but he maintained a patient air, not tensing up his shoulders with uneasiness that would normally come to most folks who weren't getting the results they wished for; it's then that she mentioned that she wondered what was around their vicinity, and the holy man nodded his head, "That is something I was wondering, too. I've had a little time to peruse the region, so I have a better grasp of what encompasses this area...."

Finally, she asks his name, and he hooks a thumb at himself, "I am a Bodom Druid, of Ivalice. Most refer to me as 'Blivon', but I am not opposed to other titles, if they make others more comfortable. If I may surmise that you wish to catch my attention at some point when it isn't already in your possession, do you feel that you would like to call me by this name?"

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Oh." Well okay, that made more sense. She nodded her better understanding then, continuing to stand where she was and observe in addition to listening. "Um....I've been in this city for a little while. Some people here have been...kind enough to let me stay with them." She was talking about the Shard Seekers of course.

But that detail was left unsaid for now. Upon hearing his introduction, Morrighan smiled a bit and nodded. "Blivon? ...Okay." She went on to say, taking a few steps closer as she no longer felt all that apprehensive about the man. "You don't seem like a bad man, so...nice to meet you."

Blivon has posed:
The druid knew very little of the Shard Seekers, but he'd heard the name a few times, while in the city, however, more important to him is the task at hand, which is helping Morrighan in whatever method availed to him, "I'm glad some people allowed you to stay with them. I hope that they have not asked from you too much in return, but I understand that everybody who is not a hermit, needs to 'earn a living', so to speak" he chuckles a little, at the thought of being dependent on society. Not looking down on it, necessarily, but inwardly wishing that people would realize they 'need' far less than they 'want', and often confuse wants with necessities.

Nonetheless, he is ignorant to her reference being an allusion to the Shard Seekers, and as one who doesn't venture too far to infer without adequate evidence, he isn't going to even try to guess the identities of her helpers. When she offered to call him by the name 'Blivon', reaffirming what he'd just said, he nods calmly, even as she moves a couple paces closer to him; his level of comfort from her increased proximity doesn't seem to cause him distress or additional happiness- he appears to be contented, in spite of whatever she does, "I hope that I can live up to your perceptions of me." He says, when she proclaims that he doesn't seem like a nefarious sort, "I'm glad that we have met as well, Miss." he doesn't ask her name- which is unusual, but there is a reason for it, and a quite valid one.

"I feel as though I would not be doing my job right if I didn't make an attempt to assist you." He opens his arms up to the sides, in a self-disarming posture, "If there was one thing you could have right now that would make you happier than you are at this specific moment in time, that you do not have, what would it be, and why?" The shaman doubts he carries in stock any such thing she -thinks- she craves, but if he gets the ball rolling, perhaps he can enlighten her to truths to which she's yet to still be introduced! Then again.... maybe she already has everything she needs in life.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Yeah, I am thankful...I don't really understand it, but...I've been told that I shouldn't stay outside, so...yeah." Smiling still, Morrighan nodded a bit more and folded her arms behind herself, idly teetering back and forth as she spoke. "You job? ...It's your job to help people?" She'd never heard of something like that before.

"Someone's whose job was to help people? ...I thought help was never free...someone told me..." That was new. And here she was told that help was never free. Was she lied to? "One thing I could have right now that would make me happier...?" A pause then as the dark elf brought a finger to her cheek, looking upwards slightly in thought.

It took maybe a minute or so before she finally answered. "...I...um..." Tapping her cheek lightly, she thought a bit more before finally saying so. "...maybe if I could remember..." Well that was awfully vague. And decidedly something non of material nature. What she was referring to though was left entirely vague.

Blivon has posed:
The shaman looks tranquil as she informs him that she's grateful, though he's a little concerned that she was told not to stay outside- maybe there was somebody who meant her ill? Maybe they didn't want her catching hypothermia, lord knew.... Blivon sure had a distaste for the cold weather, and though he'd endure it if need be, that didn't mean he'd be a little disgruntled over such a contingent. When she asks him how it's his job to help people, he nods his head in agreement, confirming any doubts she might have, until she mentioned that someone else told her that help was never free, then he raised his brow, showing skepticism, and disbelief, "That all depends on what your cohort meant by 'free', after all."

He smirks, "At present, as I understand it, you must expend calories to lift your arm to accept help from me, if I were to relinquish munny, but I would not insist on an additional charge other than whatever you volunteer to give of your own choosing. I have no reason to hold you in debt to me, because everything that I have, I was given by someone, or something else, including my own existence- I am not responsible for the creation of this world..... I was simply lucky enough to inherit it, instead of being born into an airless void, which would've stimulated immediate suffocation on my part." He shakes his head, sighing, "I can't say I'd find gasping for breath to be agreeable, so....." Blivon shrugs nonchalantly, as she begins trying to figure out what she actually wanted, "I have various sorts of healing abilities that aid in restoring one to a more optimal condition, and sometimes I can weaken, or even fully reverse curses, stabilize physical wounds...."

He lowers his hands to his sides, resting the palms on the crate, "Do you wish for me to try to mitigate whatever embargoes your ability to recall whatever it is you are trying to recall?" The way she speaks, and acts, is already hinting to the spiritual occultist that something is amiss, and that she bears semblances to some of those who'd been struck on the head badly during the Fifty Years War, which in turn, impaired their memories. Blivon was a master at the healing arts, though more specifically, he was geared towards soothing ailments such as toxins, hexes, and bodily ruptures, so trying to diagnose the root of her memory problems would be a bit of a shot in the dark..... but worth a try, if she were partial to the idea, that was!

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"....Eh?" In one fell swoop, the calorie/munny/creation of the world analogy banished any understanding that Morrighan had amassed and exiled it to the void. In the end, she decided not to question this all and instead let it go, moving along to his actual abilities. "Um...Well...I don't think I'm hurt."

To demonstrate, she moved her arms and then each leg, one at a time. "My arms and legs still work..." The dark elf shook her head and sighed, listening to him again. "...I don't know what I'm trying to remember. But someone tried before to use a spell like that on me...they got scared or something...It was weird."

A moment's pause and then Morrighan nodded again. "Well, maybe you'll have better luck. Okay then, you can try!"

Blivon has posed:
Blivon had been trying to explain that 'free' meant no expenditure was needed in order to benefit from the graces of another, but apparently Morrighan was having a hard time following- if it were something that she cared deeply about, though, there was always an opportunity for her to ask him to paraphrase! No such thing happens, but he was just as easygoing as her, at this stage of the game, not clinging too staunchly to any particular subject, just transitioning from one topic to the next without a care in the world. He nodded his head with an expression of delight when she alerted him to the fact that she didn't believe she was injured; it was a good start.

Scratching his head, Blivon shrugged, "I shall infuse my all into the attempt!" And no, he didn't have an 'All' materia that he was going to employ, but he wasn't about to derail the matter at hand by going into detail about such potential digressions. The druid beckons for Morrighan to lean forward, towards him, ever so slightly- and then he stretches out both hands to either side of her, as though framing her face without physically touching her, but trying to 'contain' her. Straining mildly, he squints as he draws to usher into existence a brand of force designed to erode at whatever malignant energy or power has impeded her ability to draw upon various parts of her mind; this is provisional, for if there's actual neurological damage, all the magic in the world won't help recover memories embedded in the grey matter that was destroyed....

But if it's related to mysticism in any form, his incantation should ideally have a reasonable probability towards at least mitigating the devilry at work, even if he has not the power to eliminate or reverse it entirely- Blivon is an expert healer who has devoted his life to defensive and restorative ventures, after all, ergo, in the last several battles, the shaman administered intentionally not a singular blow designed to harm another, even amidst the onslaught of Heartless, whilst alongside Artemis and Ramza!

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Morrighan followed his instruction and leaned forward a tad, wondering just what he was going to do. She got her answer when he framed her face without actually touching her, seemingly straining to perform some manner of spell. What that was, she was ignorant of, but she didn't seem to actually mind one way or the other.

Upon exerting such force, Blivon would likely feel that nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Rather, he might have been able to feel a diminished presence emanating from her. Diminished in the sense that while most other normal people were 'whole', she was...'incomplete'. It wasn't just simple memory loss. It was much more than that.

"....?" Remaining clueless as to what was happenening, Morrighan just tilted her head and stared at the man before her. "...Did you find out anything?" She asked curiously, remaining where she was in case he wasn't finished.

Blivon has posed:
Being knowledgable of some of the weirder divinations in the world of Ivalice, he'd heard of people who'd lost their souls to 'Lucavi' in the ancient texts, and had even opened a crack to the realm of demons where he got a glimpse of Reavers, and the like.... but this was a little bit different even than that, from what he could decipher. Sitting back, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, with a quizzical countenance, trying to go over the possibilities, based on what he felt, then it hit him, "You know what this reminds me of?" It was a rhetorical question, but Morrighan might not be sly enough to catch on, and might inquire- if so, it wouldn't matter, since Blivon would promptly answer his own query thereafter, "I've had some time to research different legends, and fictional tales in different lands; not so much in China, since I could barely understand the language until Arte started to assist me, but in the western world, there was a popular children's novel that was about a boy sorcerer with a scar on his head, and glasses."

He snapped his fingers, "Harry Potter!" The druid folded his arms over his chest, and nodded approvingly to his upcoming deduction, "In that story, there was this evil wizard called Voldemort, who split his soul into multiple fragments, and attached them to things called horcruxes. In one rather appalling part of the series, there was something about him drinking the blood of a Unicorn, and having to live a 'half' life, or something." Peering at Morrighan, the man remarks, "I postulate.... that, something of the same nature happened to your spirit. Something chipped away at it, or subdivided it; I don't know much about this type of magic, but I'd be so bold as to say it's possible that pieces of your inner essence have been subtracted from the whole."

The mystic points at Morrighan and asks, "I /might/ be able to construct for you some kinda tracking relic, which would pulse it you came into proximity of something related to yourself, with time, and help." The druid swished his hand in a circle, emphasizing that the certainty level wasn't assured, ".....if it works." he appends to the very end, which might seem a tad disheartening to the she-drow, but Blivon won't be dishonest with her. He shakes his head, "But I think that's the best I can do for you; I can manufacture some restorative items, including ones that help others regain life-force, mana, and even their very chi." He wasn't as familiar with manipulations of the destinies, and souls of others, since that was more in the territory of Yin-Yang magics known to Ivalician Oracles.... fortunately, he'd had a very mild introduction to the stuff, or he might not've known anything at all of what to do, which might explain why Blivon had an ability that was very similar to the physical defense boost for which said types of seers were known, occasionally.

On the other hand, the chances were, with Blivon's limited experience in manipulation of atrial-auras, he'd need time just to /find/ a book on the subject. Providence might've been with the dark elf, for one thing the shaman prided himself on was his scholarly fortitude, and if he could access some decent libraries, he might've been able to get a few leads!

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Um.....What?" Nope. Magic and all that hoo ha was mostly lost on her, which is quite funny for those that knew who she previously was. But easygoing as she currently was, she just took it in stride. "Well, okay...I don't really get that Harry Potter Voldmort Horcrux stuff, but...if it will help then...."

Another pause then as Morrighan seemed to realize something. "Oh! I think I know something that might help... Maybe. I think." Straightening up, the elf brought a finger to her cheek, furrowing her brows in thought as she looked upwards. "A while ago, I had this weird sort of dream...Only, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt really....real."

She shuddered to remember, but went onward anyway. "It was night time and I was moving through a forest really fast...and then I came upon some people and....I think I ate them. But..." Morrighan shook her head at that and sighed lightly. "...I woke up then, but still...I don't remember doing anything like that before...and I can't remember anything before a few weeks ago, so...it didn't make sense."

Blivon has posed:
The druid blinked as Morrighan retells the story of how she dreamt that she ate some folks, if it was even a fantasy at all- there were entities in the world who fed upon mankind. This wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but since Blivon had taken a vow to help those in need, even the wicked, so long as he wasn't aiding destructive deeds -directly-, then he would have few qualms about easing one's suffering. The shaman points up towards the high ledge some few stories above themselves, and remarked, "Metaphysical stuff seems to still exist in this world, else there would've been nil a chance that I would be fully intact from my cascade."

He nodded, "Therefore, I'm of the mind to conclude that your problem is engrossed in something sorcerous." Blivon refolded his arms and remarks, "Maybe.... you're trying to chase down the facets of your former identity, and reabsorb them, if my speculations are correct." Shortly ensuing his mention of trying to interpret dreams, something which he has almost no experience and likely is wrong about, the spiritual guide rummages through a sack of his, before pulling out a book on Yin-Yang magic.... but it's only simple stuff, really, nothing advanced. He begins to leaf through the pages, after spying the glossary, and then pressed his fingers against his forehead, concentrating, ""This tells about a spell that drains vitality from a living target, and that it works in reverse on undead. I have such a skill, but it's related to siphoning through my lancing teachings....." He goes down the columns, leaving Morrighan to her own devices temporarily as he tries to find something of use, until he reintegrates himself into the previously suspended conversation, ".....This here says that more advanced ways of prolonging one's existence through stealing energy exist, as well as using the displacement of one's soul into a phylactery in order to live longer."

His head sweeps from side to side as he reads, "....It says that there are often side-effects that cheapen one's existence when they've diluted their inner spirit..... But there is absolutely nothing on how to achieve this, or how to recognize an object that has been infused." He nods, "Additionally, sometimes a person can 'disembody' their aura, and they can exist on their own, however, the original retains some autonomy, while the others tend to be stationery." Blivon shakes his head, "I don't know if the same rules apply to your condition, so I'm hesitant to give you a /precise/ diagnosis, but I will say that your transcendental mojo isn't fully intact. Assuming they're still on this plane...." He nods at her, "....I would say that they can be found, with specialized equipment." He stuffs the book back in the bag, and grins at her, "What you need is the /opposite/ of an exorcism. I'm pretty sure if you pay some diabolist they'll tell you the same thing.... but if you end up buying the services of a quack, then who knows what swill they'll try to convince you of, to get you back in the door" he cackles a little bit at the notion of that, lightly, then stops, "Ah.... My mistake. This is not a piddling issue."

Blivon oscillates his head a little as he considers, "So, I'll volunteer my help, if you want it, but if not, that's perfectly fine; I'd be just as content to walk out of this tower and be back on my way, since one thing I am -not- in the business of, is imposing on others...!" he smirks.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Well...." Morrighan mumbled, tapping her lips in thought idly. "...I guess I'll take the help." There was nothing to lose. And there was no little reason to refuse anyway. "Imposing...what does that mean again?" She asked, staring at Blivon and tilting her head inquisitively. "....Mmn, well, either way..."

A pause as Morrighan took a moment to look around the surrounding area. It was no longer interesting to her. "...I think I'm done here." That said, she turned tail and made to leave, quite done with this place and vaguely expecting that the man previously before her would have followed. "...You said something about a thing that can...track things related to me?"

Pausing at the doors leading outside, the dark elf glanced back at Blivon slightly, awaiting his answer.

Blivon has posed:
Looking at Morrighan with a serene expression, Blivon states, declaratively, "Imposing is an action or verbalized sentiment that is imperative in nature- it includes some caliber of force which the recipient may not necessarily appreciate. So to impose on you is to insist you behave in some way or another, while simultaneously being ignorant to your personal needs or desires, and consequently, also not even being respectful of your preferences." He nods, hoping that this makes perfect sense to her; given that half of his notions fell by the wayside the moment they erupted from his mouth, he had doubts that all of it would sink in, but if he expressed the concept in various ways, maybe some of it would seep into the dark elf's comprehensive portion of her psyche.

When the semi-fickle woman decides to dismiss the watchtower, and heads towards the exit, Blivon cinches up his sack and places it where he doesn't have to manually hold it the entire time he's walking, so that he can reach for his shield if some hooligans attempt to accost himself, or the significantly attractive woman who'd doubtlessly be strolling beside the shaman! "I think that with assistance, I can forge such a thing. I can't do it alone, though, because I'm not heavily versed in the construction of spirit-oriented conduits. I mainly make standard healing items, for physical and mental afflictions; my training in the metaphysical departments alongside my fellow Bodomn druids didn't reach completion before I hiked it out of the woods and into.... well... the rest of whatever this is...." he spreads his arms out wide, indicating the whole world, at large- hopefully Morrighan gathers that he's not just referring to the dusty old spire.

"I'd like you to accompany me at some point to meet a woman named Rosemarie.... I'd mistook you for her earlier- by coincidence, she is in the field of orphic things, both common and atypical. If you don't want to come with me, that's alright too.... but..." he rolls his eyes a little, "I might have a harder time crafting something that's customized specifically to resonate with other elements of your being, which we're trying to locate...."

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Oh, I see..." No, she didn't toally get it, but at least her understanding of the term and it's general meaning had been improved slightly. That was something for now. Leaving the watchtower, they descended into the apparently 'bad part of town', though that didn't seem to mean much to Morrighan, if she knew of it's status at all.

"So you can't make it yourself, but...you can do it with someone else? Is that it?" She asked, trying to understand the general situation at least a little. She looked about once Blivon spread his arms to indicate the world. "...Oh." ...Whether or not she got it, she didn't say. Instead, her attention was firmly set ahead, with the occasional glance here and there when something caught her interest briefly.

Hearing a name mentioned; Rosemarie, Morrighan didn't seem to recognize it at all, but she glanced at the man beside her curiously once he mentioned that the woman looked like her. ".....? Mistook for me? ...Huh." Well that was slightly more interesting. "...Well, okay." And so she agreed. Not that it would have been hard to string this gullible elf along into doing anything. Which is probably why Alma was worried for her. Oh well! "...When should I go? Or is it we? ....Where is it?"

Blivon has posed:
Blivon inclined his head a little, when she asked whether he could fashion the relic independently, or codependently.... and he said "Heh.... There are many things in this world I cannot do on my own, if one considers me to be comprised of this body, and its components. On the other hand, I do try to use what I have more obvious, and immediate command over, to accomplish tasks, rather than to employ extensions to which this particular structure might be numb."

Which was an affirmation to her query, but if she didn't understand it, it might not have mattered anyway, since Morrighan's current state was one of impresssionability, thus causing her to go along with whatever hair-brained schemes people had; in the shaman's case, it actually happened to be legitimate! "I'm not sure when you should go..... On the other hand, if you aim to get this item within the next decade or so, then it'd make sense for us to go within said window. Shoulds and oughts aren't exactly my thing.", he turns to her, smiles, and winks. "At the next juncture whereby you end up finding yourself in Traverse Town, either by accident or deliberation, that would be a good time to come visit, because that is where we will be."

He folds his arms over his chest, and shifts his gaze off to the side, "I think I'll be heading in that direction, from this point on. You may accompany me, or you may choose a different route-- I will take no offense regardless of what you decide....."

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Morrighan nodded slowly to Blivon's explanation. Not entirely getting it, but picking out what bits and pieces she was able to. "I see...Well okay then!" Which was all it took. She left it at that then and continued on. "Um...decade? Why would it ever take that long?" She asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

She, she might actually have the time, based on her racial qualities, but in terms of the situation? Ahaha nope! "Well, I don't think I want it to take a decade, so..." A pause as the dark elf trailed off, looking on ahead and simply staring up at the sky as if it held the answer to all of life's mysteries. "...I'll go with you."

She nodded, affirming her decision then. She had no other plans, and the Shard Seekers were quite busy doing what they do best. So it wouldn't do to sit around their empty HQ for days or weeks on end. Smiling then, Morrighan turned around to face the shaman. "Let's go then! I want to see what you'll do!"