The Midnight Sun

Consciousness. Naoki is roused to it, as the voice of Kevin sounds in her mind, projected by her gemstone. The smooth tones of Reese join it, as the two discuss the latest visitor.

She sits up, moves the hair from her face. Some sort of tiger-fellow downstairs, evidently.

She stands, and begins her waking stretch routine. As fingertips reach to meet toes, an aching of the loins reminds Naoki of a few hours past.
Eighty centimeters. Even with his rough, amateurish movements, the verbally directed technique, his - ultimately futile - effort was still impressive… Quantity is a quality, in and of itself, I suppose. If he ever learns to fully harness that… thing…

She shudders at the thought, and pushes it from her mind. Apparently, the beastman downstairs seeks an audience with her. Standing upright, and wincing at the action, Naoki waddles over to one of her wardrobes, and selects a dress; a rather simple, sleeveless blue one, lacking any real texture or pattern. Hardly the most stylish, far from the warmest, this garment is chosen for the ease by which it removes her nudity. Up, down, over the shoulders, and bam. To the casual observer, fully clothed.

Madame Naoki shuffles out into her office, shutting the door behind her. She had cleaned it yesterday, everything should be prepared… What is that?

Sitting there, smack in the middle of her desk, perkily upright, as if it belongs there, is the chocolate memento Maelik left as a token of appreciation.

Naoki blinks, once, twice, with disbelief... Did that object escape from the dungeon while she was asleep? Did Maelik’s demonic magic animate the objects of the dungeon? Panicked, she glances up to either side, checking the tops of the bookcases flanking the door, half expecting to see an army of resentful rods descend on her from above to have their revenge.

Amber globes flick from surface to surface, checking for mad members. Seeing none, other than the prominently curved subject still sitting on her desk, Naoki relaxes.

Striding over to the desk, she takes a moment to examine the tool. Hm. Not one of theirs. A cautious hand reaches out to grasp it, dextrous fingers reaching around to grasp the girth. She recoils, caught off guard by the texture.

Pulling back, she looks at the residue left on her hand. She sniffs. Is that… chocolate? Despite the best efforts of her danger-sense, Naoki sticks one finger into her mouth. Chocolate. Good chocolate, at that. Cleaning the rest of her fingers, Naoki considers the veined sculpture again, silently cursing the approaching visitor. This would have to wait.

Taking a clean cloth from a cabinet, Naoki first cleans the rest of her hand, before moving to carefully grasp the base of the chocolate replication with the rag, attempting not to distort the shape or marr the craftsmanship as she takes the thing over to the door of the dungeon. Stepping inside, the deposits the thing in the seat of a shackled chair, leaving the cloth to sit beneath it.

Checking her hands again, Madame Naoki returns to the office proper, making sure the door of the dungeon clicks shut behind her. She begins to undo the locks on the office door in preparation for the visitor. Behind her, Naoki hears a door open to her right. Artemis.

At Kevin’s knock, the door swings inward silently. Madame Naoki stands to meet them on the threshold, and nods to Aithen, then to Kevin in silent greeting.

As she does, she subtly takes stock of Aithen. A different sort of cat-person. Less like a human with ears, more like a massive tiger standing upright. Interesting. Big sword, no pants. Goodness. Naoki moves from the doorframe, and gestures towards the guest seats, suggesting that Aithen be seated.

After closing the door, she takes her position across the desk in her high-backed chair, and addresses Aithen, voice polite and even.

“I am Madame Naoki, owner of The Midnight Sun. I understand you’d like to speak with me.”

Naoki considers leaning back into her chair, but decides against it.

With the stone orcs, hm? Hm. She had dispatched Arteraxes and Cyronin to assist what she understood to be a remote tribe of orcs a few days previously with some sort of Necromancer issue. She sent them to gather information about the previously unheard-of tribe, as well as test their mettle a bit. They both claimed considerable skill, but Madame Naoki had no way of assessing that. So Reese suited them up with some of his advanced scrying gear, and she sent them off.

She had checked in on their progress remotely the night before last; their journey was progressing well, and they seemed to be traveling together well, and based on what the quest-giver had said of the location, they would be reaching the settlement the next morning.

And evidently, ‘Aithen of Kardeth’ is here to speak to her on the behalf of those Orcs. She had hardly expected an emissary. Not from what seemed to be a remote and primitive tribe of orcs, and not so very soon after the arrival of her agents. She speaks, aware of the delicate nature of the conversation, choosing her words carefully.

“I became aware that a group of orcs, of which I hadn’t heard of before that point, were in need of assistance with a local issue. I dispatched two of my men to go investigate the settlement, and assist them with their issue in a show of goodwill. I intend to, through my agents, learn of the Orcs of Falkreath, as I have no first-hand information about Falkreath or its inhabitants. My intent is first to meet them. Once I know of them, I can begin to consider what additional actions might be taken that would be beneficial to both parties.”

Madame Naoki retreats slightly into the cushions of her chair, leaning back. She finds herself slightly irked at Aithen’s tendency to suggest things are beyond her understanding. Her understanding of the world, she thinks, is probably deeper than his. She doesn’t take Aithen for an academic, and even though he is the only one of his kind with whom she is acquainted, he doesn’t seem to be very old.

However, she betrays no signals of her ire, knowing such display would be detrimental to negotiations. Instead, she maintains her even and respectful tone, and begins to answer the question.

“My people, my Midnight Sun family, we’re many things…”

She trails off, searching for the correct way to describe The Midnight Sun. It is, as she said, many things.

“We’re an organization, a group of people affiliated under my banner. We run this establishment, where the citizens of Isra can come, and exchange their currency and goods for the best food and drink available. I use the proceeds from this business to expand our organization and the reach of our influence over the world. Our goals are relatively simple. We seek to use our united strength and influence to create the best possible world we can for ourselves and those we call friends.”

She begins to lean forward in her seat, delivering each word with an increasing amount of emphasis.

“Isra is a city that accepts all. Regardless of race, history, or any of that, if an individual agrees to abide by Isranian law, they are welcome. I take that ideology of acceptance to a rather extreme degree here at The Sun. The only characteristics that matter to me are characteristics relating to one’s character. If one is willing to cooperate with us, abide by our rules, and work toward our general goals, all are welcome within The Midnight Sun. I employ demons, monsters, flesh abominations, and vampires, among other sorts. And they all are both loyal and content with my leadership. I provide a family to those who have none, a place to live for those who don’t belong anywhere else.”

Pride swells in her voice, as she’s evidently rather passionate about the topic.

“And together, our little... well... our somewhat sizable rag-tag group can accomplish a much. Our subtle influence, I would say, is essentially world-wide. A side-effect of accepting all is that you run across a lot of individuals whose powerful talents alienate them from mainstream society. For example, our head hostess, Miss Skarlet. She was encountered by one of our associates… a few months ago now, alone, starving. Lacking a home, a job, a family, and companionship. She has found all of those, as well as a feeling of contentment here at The Midnight Sun. More than co-workers, business associates, allies or comrades, we of The Midnight Sun are a family, in all senses besides literal.”

Realizing that she’s now standing, Naoki sits down and composes herself before continuing.

“I do not- nor will I ever, seek to make enemies of any individual or group who has not first wronged myself or my family. As for the Stone Orcs of Falkreath, I seek nothing besides amicable and mutually prosperous interactions.”

Madame Naoki stands, and shakes the offered paw, nodding slightly and maintaining eye contact as she does so. As she does, she reflects briefly on the sheer number of hands she’s shaken, attempting to guess. Unable to form what might seem like an accurate estimation, she resolves to begin keeping track.

“It was good to speak with you; I look forward to our next meeting. But for now, I would like to offer you every hospitality. If you would, perhaps, like to rest at the Inn before your departure, or accept some food and supplies for the journey back.”

If Aithen would accept, Naoki would insist upon providing lodging in the inn, as well as giving him a pack of supplies, filled with delicious food from the kitchen and traveling supplies.

As Aithen leaves, Naoki considers what he said more deeply.

“The Stone Orcs have lived in isolation, yes. But I had taken part with them, before their declaration to draw away from the world. These people are old, older than you can imagine.”

She leans back properly, and contemplates, twirling a quill between the fingers of her left hand absently.

“have lived in isolation...” That implies that they currently are, and have in the past, but at one point, did not.
“their declaration to draw away from the world...” This references when they decided to withdraw into isolation. Unless the tiger-fellow was exaggerating or relating a false tale, his words would seem to imply that the Stone Orcs of Falkreath are quite old. Older than written record, and presumably predating the most recent cataclysm.

The quill pauses in its rotation, before starting off in the other direction, more rapidly.

Hm. She had intended to have Cyronin and Artaxerxes assist some primitive village out in the hinterlands as a way to test their mettle. But now, it seems as if she’s just involved The Midnight Sun in the affairs of some long-forgotten, yet not lost nation. One capable of sending an emissary the many miles to to Isra speak with her, a matter of days after her agents made contact. This warrants additional investigation and consideration.

She turns to glace sidelong at Artemis. "What do you think? I think I left a bit of an impression."

Artemis moves towards the desk, visibly relaxing. "Hard to get a read on that one. I'd definitely say you left an impression, and it seems to be positive, but I could just be interpreting him wrong."

She flexes her fingers. "I'm not too fond of him personally, though. He enjoys fiddling with his weapon too much. I was a muscle twitch away from caving his skull in during about half of that conversation. Still, if what he says is true, his people would be one to keep an eye one. I look forward to hearing from Artaxerxes and Cyronin when they return."

Reese noticed Naoki and Artemis file in, but didn't outwardly acknowledge them. He was absolutely certain that the latest fix would allow his marvelous work to function as intended. Carefully, oh so carefully, he diverted a bit of his essence into the gem.

And promptly vanished.

Five seconds went by, ten, fifteen. Just before the twenty-second mark, there was a flash. Reese was back at his desk.

The lich promptly stood, grasped his hat, and flung it into the air. "I am a genius! It took sixteen explosions to the face and my right arm, but it's functional!"

The chair squeaked as its owner plunked back into the cushy depths. Realizing that his outburst may have seemed unnecessarily exuberant to his guests, he thought it best to address Naoki's question.

A sound mirroring the clearing of a fleshy throat emanated from the corresponding part of the skeletal anatomy. "You are aware, of course, of the family artifacts I have created. That was a work from back when these old bones had some meat. I've been tinkering with the power matrix behind it all, trying to graft variants of the common weaves I have used the past."

Reese "cleared his throat" once more and reached down to pick up his hat, returning it to its perch upon his head. "The one I just completed, right there, was a bound teleportation spell. Now, I hear you. Teleportation is common, isn't it? There are a plethora of mages capable of it. But this gem works similarly to the family artifacts, meaning that a person with little to no prior experience in the arcane could make full use of it!"

Some of the enthusiasm fell out of his voice. "There are, of course, a few snags. I'm pretty sure some of my fingers were swapped around." The skull dipped to inspect them. They appeared to descend in the proper order, but the index fingers had switched places. A scratch on what was now the left one confirmed it.

"Ah well. I'll work it out soon enough. I have others, though, plenty of others! Look at these!" Reese opened a drawer and remove a small pouch, tossing it onto the desktop. The strings holding the bag closed loosened on impact, allowing a few gems to spill out. "This one shines with light when triggered, this one creates an illusion of a dancing man, this one sends out a spark that could light candles, this one lowers temperature the in an area."

"I know, I know, these all sound like pointless gewgaws. But you just saw the bigger example. Think of what else I could do with it, given a bit of time and more experimentation. Magic for the common man!"

If anyone was well-versed in the facial cues of a skeleton, they would realize that Reese was positively beaming.

Megan had gotten a room for herself following the directions Kevin gave her and stowed her belongings. She'd get some rest then come back to the bar later. If and when Raulio Fletcher returns to the Midnight Sun, he would surely recognize Megan on sight from her signature blue outfit.

While Reese was elated that his newest project has met with such positive encouragement, he realized that he should probably focus his attention on what had brought the Madame to his offi--good gracious, what was that?

His skull bobbed into a nod in the appropriate places, a chuckle at her pun, and whatever else that a normal fleshy being would display to show their attention. In the meantime, his focus was surreptitiously directed at a mirror on his rig, facing back towards his desk. Lacking pupils to reveal the true area of his focus was oh-so-handy in a variety of situations. It appeared as if Maelik and some tiny armored girl were in the midst of some scrap. He flinched slightly as the demon chef swung powerfully, muscles visibly twisting and bunching. It was hard to imagine such a tiny little person as a challenge, but she seemed to be doing quite well, evading that attack and countering into her opponents massive bulk.

Regardless, some portion of his mind picked up on Naoki's general gist. The prospect of expanding his one-man department would certainly ease his time constraints, allowing him to concentrate on further developing his infused gemcraft.

"This idea is most appealing! I have a couple of people in mind, even, so it should be possible to get that up and running relatively expediently." He paused. "I do hate to interrupt, but this is excellent entertainment. Take a look."

With a wave of his hand and a bit of mental stretching, Reese hooked a blank mirror to the one that was currently peeking in on the duel. A flick of the bony wrist sent it skittering across the surface of his desk, to rest before his visitors. He now abandoned any precepts of attentiveness on the pair and leaned back into his chair, enjoying the show.