(2025-04-25) Mingling in Highbank

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Author:	Alli
Summary:	On the day of the Red String team's arrival in the highlands, a few of them (Aszera, Averlena, Bertrand, Joelle, Merelda, Oslynn, Siamus) gather in the common room to make better acquaintance of one another. Some new friends are made? ~6100 words.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: The Red String Game

+ Show additional content warnings

discussion of pregnancy and couples

The team has arrived in Highbank, and has already managed all the logistics of getting a large party housed and settled in a war zone. Now, after all the panic and urgency in Stormwind, everyone has a chance to catch their breath. The common room of the new inn is fairly quiet at the moment, with only a few scattered groups of off-duty soldiers and a smaller handful of locals at the tables scattered through the open room. At one of the tables, three very different women sit, one red-haired, one blonde and one dark-haired. It might be the start of a joke, a warlock, a worgen and an elf walk into a tavern…

"The area is really rather nice in some ways, when you settle in," Lena is saying. "The Wildhammers are pretty friendly — though I suppose I came up after a lot of the diplomacy work was already done. We've Cobalts Blue Squad to thank for that."

Merelda nods. "A number of my people — the Gravehowls, that is — have joined the company as well, though I don't believe any of them are up here at the moment beyond our team."

Aze sits quietly for the moment, her face slightly downturned, an expression of quiet focus in the lines of her face.

As though summoned by the word "Gravehowls," Ozzy wanders into the common room, wearing the same semi-civilized outfit she was wearing when summoned. It might be… her only appropriate outfit. She has been washing regularly, judging by her faintly soapy smell, but her hair has turned back into unruly ringlets, and on closer examination, she is… not wearing shoes or stockings.

She goes to drag a chair over so it's right next to Merelda's, and kind of flumps over so that her head is on Merelda's shoulder.

"Ey," she says. It seems to be a general greeting to everyone at the table.

Merelda reaches an arm around Ozzy's shoulders with an easy familiarity. She sniffs. "Cleaned up, I see. We might have a long night of it, with the innervation shifts."

Aze turns her face towards the newcomer with a quick flash of a smile. "Hey."

Lena looks over at the younger druid curiously. "The two of you are in the same pack, right? I don't really know much about it — is it like a family?"

"Naw," says Ozzy, a bit defensively. "Everyone's real good to each uvver."

Aze raises an eyebrow.

Merelda gives Ozzy's shoulder a supportive squeeze and says, "I suppose it depends on how a person thinks of family."

"I didn't mean anything bad by it," Lena says, wincing sympathetically. "Really, it's good to have people you can trust, whether you call them a pack or whatever else. Speaking of trust — thanks for answering the summons, even though we didn't know one another. It'll be easier to find you, next time."

Ozzy's eyes light up. "Tha' was weird, roight? There oi am, just settin' there wonderin' if Merelda's gonna be awroight, since she just disappeared into a big glowy black 'ole, an' all of a sudden there's loike this VOICE in me 'ead, but not loike an Old God one or nuffing, not all up in me intimate brainmeats, but faraway-loike."

She leans over a bit, cupping a hand behind her ear to illustrate. Then she sort of flails her hands around in a bewildered manner.

"Loike someone calling, yeah? An' it's not a VOICE exactly, not in me ears, but all the same I feel loike it's Merry, some'ow?" She gestures toward Merelda to indicate who 'Merry' is. "But also, ickle bit o' News Man in there. An' I'm so curious why News Man's callin' from the same 'ole Merry fell into, I just… GO. Loike, ain't even fink about it really, I just let somefing grab 'old o' me and suddenly it's ME in the glowy black 'ole, feelin' loike I swallowed dead snakes fer a minute, and then BAM! Different room full o' different people."

Aze's focused expression shifts fully to Ozzy now, as the non-native speaker tries her best to make sense of all that. "Dead snakes, yeah, I could see that. I don't think it bothers me as much as some, but then it wouldn't. Is Gilnean a dialect?"

Merelda raises a hand to her mouth — she isn't laughing, no not her. "No, it's just a style of speech frequently heard in Gilneas. But I do agree about the bewildering nature of summoning. I felt a little off my center for several minutes there afterward, though I confess it was quite convenient. " She turns slightly to Ozzy, "And I should speak with your News Man further at some point. We had little time at the summoning, but he seemed an interesting fellow."

"A warlock," Lena adds. "Not with WEB, though."

"Oo's Web?" Ozzy asks, turning her gaze to Lena.

"Oh, the Warlock Ethics Bureau," Lena explains, shifting to look to Ozzy with a smile. "Probably you've heard how the fel is always a corruptive influence? Though the amount of the fel you're exposed to in a summon is really nothing to worry about. But anyway, WEB is a group of us, together with some friendly priests and paladins, who keep an eye on one another."

"Oh, that's noice!" Ozzy agrees. "Bein' in a group can 'elp keep ye honest. Weww… oi guess it depends on the group, roight? An' oo's in chawge. But 'avin good people lookin' awfter ya can keep ya outta trouble. An' outa the other kinds o' groups. Gangs… cults… you know." She casually waves a hand. You know.

"I know, and that's absolutely the point," Lena nods firmly. "The other warlock organization was the Slaughtered Lamb, and they were guilty of at least three murders in the brief period I was associated with them, as well as the attempted murder of my best friend. Not to mention the other non-WEB warlock who kidnapped and tormented one of my other friends — he ended up losing a leg to the injuries. So if you ever feel wary of warlocks, you're right to feel that way. But our goal — myself and Lord Tyrrell and Lord Ference and Luu and the others — is that no one needs to be wary of WEB warlocks, because yes, we keep each other honest."

Aze turns her attention to Lena during this spiel, clearly never having heard about all the warlock murders and kidnapping before.

Merelda blinks. "That does sound rather like a gang, doesn't it? This Slaughtered Lamb of yours, that is. I commend your effort to clean up the profession."

Ozzy listens wide-eyed to Lena's harrowing tales, and then nods in enthusiastic agreement with Merelda. She jerks a thumb toward Merelda in the wake of her response. "Wot she said."

"Well… if you're talking with your News Man friend sometime," Lena add carefully, "You might mention it. I know a lot of warlocks are wary of any group that would offer oversight, but it really is intended for safety not for control. And there's a certain feeling of safety in knowing you're not going to be poisoned or kidnapped by your colleagues, and that if things go wrong with a demon there's folk you can call on."

"Oh we ain't friends," Ozzy says. "I can barely get 'im to talk to me. All I know about 'im is 'e's a news man' an' a master baiter." She lets that just sit there. Is there a twinkle in her eye as she awaits reaction?

Lena laughs, but it sounds a little confused. Surely that's not the first thing to come up in conversation with a new acquaintance.

"I guess you wouldn't necessarily need to talk much, if that's what you were doing together," Aze says innocently.

Merelda's face flushes red. This isn't about her at all, but she's still so embarrassed. Her usual composure is gone as she stammers, "That's not… That is… She didn't mean…"

"Ladies," says Siamus, strolling in. His awkward-dar has gone off.

"Gentleman," Ozzy returns saucily.

Siamus nods with only-slightly-exaggerated courtesy to Ozzy. He is indeed a gentleman.

Ozzy looks between the three women at the table, struggling to keep a straight face. She lets Merelda flounder - fishing pun intended - for a moment longer before she innocently continues.

"I suppose we didn't need to talk, but fishin's pretty borin' otherwise. Still, I suppose I'd not've caught a single fing if not for them worms of 'is."

Her expression comes very close to suggesting that any awkwardness at the table is totally the fault of weird people who heard something weird in what she said. Only Merelda might recognize the tiny, subtle gleam of triumph in her eyes.

"Oh, fishing," Aze says, realizing. "Because bait. That's a good one. Hi, S… Admiral."

Lena chuckles again, quietly, and nods to Ozzy, acknowledging the triumph.

He surveys the other three ladies with an arched brow. "Am I interrupting? Ye needn't mind me, just came to see if the innkeep's got a newspaper."

"Ask if 'e's got Azeroffian Innerest!" Ozzy says. There exists a newspaper by… a similar name at least.

Merelda, still blushing, gives Ozzy a look, then glances up to Siamus. "Oh, no, not at all, Lord Fallon. I'm delighted to see you again. Care to join us?"

Siamus inclines his head agreeably to Ozzy, his attention on the more intelligible ladies at the table. "I'd be glad to join ye if there's room. Metaphorical as well as literal; I wouldn't like to put a damper on a Ladies' Conversation." You can hear the capital letters.

"Oh, not at all, we were just talking about…" Aze pauses, maybe it's too soon to repeat a joke. "The News Man and his variety of skills." She tilts her head at Ozzy. "That's his? Azerothian Innerest?"

"Yeah!" Ozzy enthuses. "I gotta get me a copy so we'll 'ave somefing to talk about."

Siamus smiles at Ozzy. "I admire a young lady with an interest in current events." Unclear whether this is directed earnestly or is a joke or is some attempt at a paternal nudge toward Edification. Some combination of the three, probably. "Let me see what the innkeeper's got, and I'll be back shortly."

He gives a sort of all-purpose courtesy nod to the group and strolls off across the common room, pausing for a moment's low-voiced conversation with a man in naval uniform.

Ozzy glows! She is a young lady! An admired one!

Merelda smiles down at her, the red slowly fading from her face. It might take a few minutes.

"I have read that one before," Lena observes. "It's a rather unusual paper, isn't it?"

"I'unno," says Ozzy. "I ain't read any uvvers."

"Maybe you should," Lena suggests, with a slight smile. "Then you might appreciate the Interest even more by comparison."

Ozzy's eyes narrow slightly, like a dog suspecting there might be a pill in that cheese.

"I don't really read," Aze says with a shrug. "But it sounds interesting. If anyone wants to, like, read part of it aloud sometime."

"Mm," Lena hums vaguely, glancing over at Aze and then back to Ozzy. "I wonder if they will have it here. I'm not sure of the circulation. I suppose we'll see."

"Can you do black 'oles goin' the uvver way?" Ozzy asks Lena. "Loike, send me somewhere?"

Lena shakes her head. "I can only bring people to where I am. The other way is mages - portals. I can't do any of those. Why, somewhere you want to go?"

"I was gonna go look for a copy of News Man's paper, if they ain't go' one 'ere," Ozzy says. "Reckon they do in Stormwind, yeah?"

"I think they would, yes," Lena says. "But I don't know any mages here. If you do go there, I could always summon you back here. All it takes is a little fragment of soul — not yours, don't worry."

"Soul?" Ozzy echoes. "Fragment?? You loike… cu' up people's souls??"

"That's, well, yes, that's part of being a warlock," Lena says, bracing herself a little for disapproval. "I wouldn't cut up your soul. Maybe the Twilight's Hammer cultists'. They're barely using them anyway."

Aze chuckles.

Merelda looks mildly alarmed.

Siamus returns to the table. He is carrying two folded newspapers under his arm, and a folded tabloid in one hand. He offers this latter to Ozzy with a smile. "I believe that's the last issue by one, rather than the latest, but a sailor at the bar was willing to part with it for a lady."

(The sailor at the bar might have been more willing to part with it because it was an Admiral asking him, but who knows?)

"Croikey!" Ozzy exclaims, snatching the paper from him delightedly. "Fank you, Admiral Sir, oi didn't fink you'd be able to foind it! Wot do I owe ya?"

"Nothing at all," Siamus assures her. "Happy to help." He steps away to collect another chair and draw it over toward the table.

Ozzy turns her attention to the paper. It's obvious that she's struggling to read it, as her lips slowly move and her brow furrows. But her attention is now fully focused on this task.

Merelda looks down at her with a smile of approval.

"On that note, any news?" Lena asks Siamus. "Here, or elsewhere, I mean. Seems there's always plenty happening in the world these days."

Siamus flips one of the papers open. "Lumber and iron futures are down — lumber looks fair criminal. Loss of ports in the northern Baradin Bay still has shipping bottlenecked. Finster's tariff legislation's still held up in the House — bless 'em." He flips a page and scans intently.

It's possible that Lena did not mean business and finance news, but some men have priorities.

Oh, war is also a priority: "And the Horde withdrawal from Tol Barad looks to be going apace." He nods at the page approvingly.

Ozzy looks up from her paper sometime around Siamus's last sentence, and politely (though with obvious impatience) waits for him to be finished speaking before she holds the paper in front of Merelda and asks her very quietly, "Wot's 'in-uh-MIGHT-able'?"

She points to the word 'inimitable.'

"It means you can't imitate it," Merelda says, looking down to see how it's used. "That this 'Talley Cat' is unique."

"Talley Cat," Aze repeats, a thoughtful look on her face.

Lena is paying attention to the news. "Oh, that's good. Frees up our ships a bit, doesn't it? We'll still have to leave some defense, of course, but if Tol Barad isn't an active battlefield anymore…"

Ozzy nods, nods, nods, at Merelda's answer, and then pauses a bit before she asks, even more quietly, and with a look of deep embarrassment, "Can you maybe say it to me in anuvver sentence, loike?"

Siamus nods firmly at Lena and drops his attention to the page again, turning the next absently.

"The inimitable Oslynn Gravehowl has a perspective on the world that none can duplicate," Merelda says with a fond smile. "As her life has taken so many unexpected twists and turns."

Lena glances over at the two worgen. "Including this one. Being up here in the highlands to help a… person you can barely get to talk to you, I suppose."

Ozzy is reading her paper again, but her ears are very red. Her lips silently shape the word inimitable several times.

Joelle, a tall man with dark hair pulled back into a tail and an unreadable expression wanders into the room, pausing when he sees people gathered. Oh, it is gathering time. He finds a place to sit, after waving a greeting to Aze and Siamus.

Ozzy looks up from her paper briefly, and just kind of… stares at Joelle. Wow.

Joelle catches her looking and stares back. Despite the lack of expression on the rest of his face, his gaze is warm and friendly. He waves at her, too.

Ozzy waves back and smiles. "Oi dunno you," she says.

Aze's face brightens into a smile. "Elle! You made it. Great to have another friendly face here. You haven't met the Gilneans?"

"I'm Merelda Veyne," Merelda says, holding out a hand to shake Elle's. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Joelle stands back up to shake Merelda's hand. "Oh. No," he says to Aze. "I'm Elle."

Siamus glances up from his newspaper. He missed the wave, sorry, Elle. He smiles. "Elle! Lady Merelda and Miss Gravehowl. Ye recall Miss Coit, I expect."

Ozzy watches Merelda and Joelle shake hands, then goes back to staring at her paper with a furrowed brow.

Joelle nods in greeting to Lena, then turns his dark chocolate eyes on Ozzy. He offers a hand, despite her renewed interest in the paper. It's okay, he can wait.

Ozzy, nudged by Merelda, glances up and blushes. She tries to do the same sort of handshake Merelda did and is about 68% successful.

"Ello Elle," she says. "I'm Ozzy."

"Ozzy," Joelle repeats. There is a smile in his eyes if nowhere else. "Thank you for helping Lathrik. He's my friend."

"Oh? 'E seems to 'ave a lot o' friends," she says in a sincere tone of admiration. "In my experience, that's a good soign someone's worth 'elpin'."

Joelle considers this seriously. The start of a question begins to form, but he swallows it back down. "He is," he says instead. "He would help you, too, if you needed it. So would I."

Ozzy's gray-green eyes go wide for a moment, and then she just says, "Fanks… tha's really noice. You… seem loike noice blokes, bof' of ya."

She clears her throat and glances around the table. There's something a bit anxious in her expression as she checks each face, as though she expects someone to be scowling at her or shaking their head or making frantic ABORT, ABORT signs.

Merelda does not seem to be making ABORT signs.

Siamus is, in fact, smiling faintly at her, with vaguely paternal approval. Cat with Loud Manners.

Ozzy smiles back at Siamus. She keeps staring at him for a minute, maybe waiting to see if there is a delayed frown, maybe just because he has a nice smile.

Joelle reaches out to gently pat Ozzy on the head.

Siamus flicks a glance up at Elle and then back down to Ozzy. He winks and returns his attention to the paper.

Despite appearances, Ozzy's brass-blonde chaos of hair does not actually entangle Joelle's fingers like some sort of carnivorous plant. Her eyes go HUGE, though, and she holds still like she is either afraid, or afraid she'll scare some rare wild creature.

Both? Both is good.

Joelle continues until he is satisfied, then says, "You have nice hair," and sits back down. He seems happy.

Ozzy just stares at him for at least nine seconds, her mouth slightly ajar. Then her gaze slowly sinks back toward the paper like a balloon that has just now passed the necessary helium threshold to stay aloft.

As her eyes focus on the words again, her brows draw together in concentration.

Merelda pats her on the shoulder. Have more pats, Ozzy.

"How's he holding up?" Aze asks. "The… bloke… with lots of friends, that is, Lathrik. And even more now, seems like."

While the others are talking, Ozzy holds the paper up to Merelda again and very quietly asks, "Wot's 'GORmit'?" She points to the word 'gourmet.'

"He doesn't look at faces," Joelle dutifully reports. "He says they look like black voids staring back into him, and it makes him feel weird. But he doesn't like people feeling sorry for him, so he hides so no one can, at least not in front of him."

"Gourmet," Merelda repeats. "It means… ah… delicious. Particularly to someone who specializes in delicious things."

Ozzy looks deeply confused by this explanation. "…Sentence?" she whispers.

"Ah, yeah, that's hard to get used to," Aze nods with sympathy. "But I can be callous about it if that would make him feel better."

"The gourmet meal at the Highbank inn would satisfy even the most discerning palate," Merelda says after a moments thought. "I've no idea the truth of it — I haven't yet had a meal here."

Siamus looks politely to Lena. How does she find the quality of the Highbank cuisine?

Ozzy just stares at Merelda. It's possible that there were a couple other words in that sentence that she didn't understand. She goes back to her paper.

Lena shrugs lightly, "It's not the worst warfront fare I've had, not by a long shot. I'd have to mention pungent seal whey, if we're comparing."

Ozzy silently mouths inimitable again, and gourmet, as she stares at her paper.

Then suddenly she looks up, directly at Joelle.

"You're the Knight!!" she blurts, like she's spitting out something that had been stuck between her teeth all this time.

"You're Ozzy," Joelle tells her, as if this was some sort of test.

"No, no, from the play!" Ozzy says. "Innit? Or… you look just loike 'im anyway."

"Yes, I think so," Merelda says, considering Elle again. "Him or his twin brother."

"Oh. The play. Yes," Joelle says, nodding. "I don't have a twin brother. Or a sister. I have a cousin."

"Does 'e look loike you?" Ozzy asks, in a way that suggest the next question might involve the cousin's marital status and tolerance for shoddy personal grooming.

Joelle considers the question. "Her name is Hana. She's smaller than me," he says.

"Oh," Ozzy says, clearly losing interest at the 'her' part. Or at least, the particular type of interest she previously had. A new kind of interest immediately replaces it. "Wot's she do?"

"It's a pretty name," Aze observes. "She going to be coming out here, or is she well clear of all this?"

"My proper name's Oslynn," Ozzy says apropos of very little. She tries to make it sound pretty.

"Oslynn, yeah, " Aze repeats and smiles in her direction. "That's pretty, too. Suits you. And we have a similar approach to nicknames. Aze. Ozzy."

As always, Ozzy absorbs the smile and returns it at twice the brightness; it's like gently lobbing someone a ball and having them punch it back to you at lethal velocity.

"Wot's Aze short for?" she asks.

"Aszera," Aze answers, her own smile brightening at the clear rebound. "Some people call me that, but usually when they're being more formal."

"Fancy," says Ozzy. "Sounds real elfy!" By her expression and tone, it's clearly a compliment.

"She works in bars and cafes," Joelle reports. "She shouldn't be out here. It's better if she's not."

Ozzy nods, seeming to understand. "So loike a barmaid? Maybe I'll say 'ello sometime! I can say I know ya?"

It is perhaps impossible to gauge the weird, convoluted thought process going on in this feral creature's head that explains why she's interested in saying she knows someone she doesn't really know but who is sitting right in front of her in order to get to know someone she literally just learned existed.

"It was an elf who gave it to me," Aze says with a brief laugh and a half-shrug. "She's down in Stormwind then? Maybe we'll run into her sometime, yeah, when all this is done."

Joelle nods. "We can be friends," he tells Ozzy. "If you want."

"He gives good hugs," Aze says, a low aside to Ozzy, as if this might influence her decision.

"Wot?" Ozzy says, her expression one of pure naked shock. "You an' me?"

At Aze's sales pitch she goes a little pink. She looks at Aze, than at him again.

"You?" she says. And gestures up and down to encompass his general… situation. "Ain't you… some kind of… loike… ain't you somefing special?"

Joelle looks himself over. "No?" He looks to Aszera for confirmation.

"You're Elle, which I'd say is something special," Aze says, tilting her head toward him. "And a good friend to have. But then, there's probably stuff that makes each of us here special, right? So maybe like… we could all be friends?" She tilts her head back towards Lena and Siamus, maybe for support on this.

"I would not say no to more friends," Lena confirms, smiling faintly.

Siamus glances up from his newspaper. "Aye," he agrees. "Everyone here's a friend, or ought to be, or will be soon, I expect."

Ozzy looks very doubtful, borderline wary, as she looks from person to person. She looks like someone who is pretty sure she doesn't get the joke and so is not going to say anything.

"We're certainly allies," Merelda says, resting a hand on Ozzy's shoulder. "And from there it is a small step to friendship."

Ozzy mutters something inaudible.

Joelle looks almost a little wilted as he gazes at Ozzy. "Do you…" he begins, but stops himself and falls silent.

She peers at him, tilts her head. She seems to pick up on the change in his demeanor and looks confused still, but now also concerned.

"Wot is it?" she says kindly. Then she looks around at the others, and does just the Ozziest thing.

The shortest way to him is across the table, so she plants a hand on it and casually vaults herself over it - without upsetting anything on it - so that she lands kind of in a crouch next to his chair. It happens so fast and so quietly that if you weren't looking, you might have missed it entirely and think next time you looked up that she must have walked around the table at some point, like a person, instead of some kind of monkey in a green dress.

If you were looking, and you did not notice before, you definitely are aware now since her feet just went swoosh over the table that she is not wearing shoes or stockings.

Siamus folds his newspaper slowly and lays it aside. Miss Gravehowl is proving more interesting than even the market reports, if you can believe that. He's smiling his tilted smile.

Merelda makes a kind of abortive movement to stop Ozzy, but she is way too slow. She settles back. She is used to not being able to stop these sorts of things.

Aze claps, delighted.

Lena raises an eyebrow, but she's still smiling faintly.

Once she has landed she says to Joelle, sotto voce, "You can say it quiet, if you want," and leans in, turning her face away but her ear toward him.

Joelle hesitates a moment longer, then asks, quietly, "Do you not want to be friends?" He barely blinks at the table hopping. Maybe he thinks that's normal.

Ozzy gives Joelle the biggest softest eyes she's capable of, which are pretty big and soft.

"Aw, I ain't mean it loike tha'," she says, her accent going even more unintelligible in her agony of contrition. She pats his arm a few times. "I jus' f'ought you was loike, y'know, Big Fish? An' me the kind you either swim by or eat."

"I wouldn't eat you," Joelle says. "I… think."

"An' I guess you ain't swam by neither," she says, and gives his arm one last firm pat. "So friends I guess? if you want?"

A tiny smile actually reaches Joelle's face this time. "I would like to be friends," he says.

"Noice!" says Ozzy, eyes sparkling. She stands up, levering herself with a hand on Joelle's shoulder, and notices people looking at her. She lifts her chin defiantly as if to say, WOT.

Siamus's smile widens and he inclines his head to her.

She mimics the gesture almost exactly.

Bertrand stands by the foot of the staircase, grinning. "Nice vault," he says.

"Oi!" Ozzy brightens even more at the sight of Bertrand. It might be a little hurty if there are night elves present. "It's you!" She points at him, in case he doesn't know who 'you' means, I guess? "Ummmm… Lord Aspingwood or somefing?"

Bertrand walks over to the table and holds a hand out to Ozzy. "Bertrand. You can call me Birdie, if you want." He looks curiously at Elle. "Hey."

Ozzy pumps Birdie's hand enthusiastically. "Birdie! Oi loike tha'. Suits ya better. You're one o' them big fish wot acts like regular fish. Best kind o' fish! You know all this lot?"

Joelle processes the name, then says, "Like Mordecai."

Birdie laughs and shakes her hand. "Yeah, I guess I am. I know some better than others. Mordecai's my brother-in-law," he adds to Elle.

Ozzy impulsively gives Birdie's entire arm a hug, then frolics over to sit by Merelda again.

Aze raises a hand in greeting.

"Good evening," Lena says to Bertrand. "Would you like to join us?"

Merelda rests her arm around Ozzy's shoulders again, maybe to forestall any more sudden vaults.

Ozzy cuddles up to Merelda, resting her head on her shoulder and watching the others with a sort of drowsy, glowing contentment.

"Sure." Bertrand smiles at Lena and fetches a chair, which he pulls over to sit down in near Siamus. "Any good news in there?"

Siamus offers the paper to Birdie. "Tol Barad, yes. Economy, no. Your pick."

Birdie takes it and nods, scanning through.

"Is Priscilla doing well?" Lena asks, as Bertrand takes a seat. "I meant to ask, when we met up last, but there was so much going on."

Bertrand closes his eyes for a moment, then looks up from the paper and says to Lena and the table at large, "My wife is having a very difficult pregnancy. She's managing, and she has the best care available. She told me I should 'stop hovering' and that there were enough people to fuss over her while I went to give Dinnsfield a hand. If you want me to pass a message on, Lena, I'll be writing to her tonight."

Ozzy gives Bertrand soft sad eyes from where she leans on Merelda's shoulder.

Siamus, his gaze concerned, reaches over to give Bertrand a manly shoulder-clasp. There, there, Aspenwood. Good man.

"Sorry to hear, but glad she's got people to care for her," Lena says, wincing. "I suppose you can tell her I was thinking of her? If it might help to hear."

Bertrand nods to Siamus and smiles a little. "I'll do that. Thanks."

"Please, send her my regards as well, though I confess I've not seen her since your beautiful wedding," Merelda says with a smile.

"Yeah, best wishes, though I've not had the chance…" Aze pushes to her feet, and adds, "I should probably head back up to the room and get settled in — I sort of just left my stuff piled against a wall. Hope to see you all tomorrow, though… friends?"

"Mm, friends," Merelda says, as Aze takes her leave. Glancing back down at the paper, Merelda says, "Do you suppose they'll need to do much rebuilding, in Tol Barad? I'm not entirely clear on the structures that might have been there, and what damage they may have sustained in the fighting. My specialty is residential, of course, but I remain interested."

Ozzy watches Aze leave, looking speculative.

"There's a village there," Siamus says, "or what's left of one. The place used to have more residential areas, but the only people who really lived there were the Wardens and their families, and the wars put paid to them. Stromgarde's people went to the defense of their homeland, and then the orcs razed the place. It may be someday the isle will be enough cleaned up to support law-abiding Alliance villages again, but I expect that will be some time down the road. For now it's ruins, ghosts, watchtowers, and the Hold and its outlying prisons. Not the homiest of places."

"I'll have to keep an eye on that, then, for later," Merelda nods. "I trust the land itself is unharmed? That is, I suppose, another druid specialty, recovering damaged lands, as we were in the Blasted Lands when we came to join you."

"The land is… corrupted in some way," Siamus says. "The dead don't rest in it. But aye, as to the Blasted Lands — how's that coming along?"

Ozzy snorts softly at this.

"Then it might be worthwhile to ask the Cenarion Circle to have a look," Merelda nods. "The Blasted Lands… are coming along. The whole village is built there, and settlers are still arriving. The land is green and thriving, with a large forest to the north where once there was just bare rock and demons." Despite all this positive news, there's a faint look of concern on Merelda's face.

Ozzy lifts up off of Merelda's shoulder to give her massive side-eye.

"Reawwy?" she says. "Tha's wot yer goin' wif."

Siamus arches a brow and looks between the two.

"There have been… troubling things, as of late," Merelda admits reluctantly. "Of the fel variety. And our head druid, Marl, remains unconscious — but I think that's really not so terribly uncommon for druids taking on massive revitalization work."

Ozzy gives Siamus a level look. "Listen, Adm'l, oi only been wot ya'd cawl an actual druid for a year'n change, an' me Shandoe barely speaks Common, loike, but even oi know tha' druids 'ave an 'ist'ry of meddlin wif fings an' foindin' out later they fffuuhhh they mucked it up real bad. Loike the two or free words Shandoe ever says to me are all warnings, loike, about bad druid mistakes from the past. So when oi see fel treants wandering abou' I am no' inclined to say fings are fryvin' as milady 'ere puts it."

Joelle turns to look at Siamus as well. Because that's what we're doing now, and fel treant doesn't sound good.

Lena's interest rises at this. "Fel treants? Those are… not demons. Do you think it would help if a warlock took a look at things?"

Siamus regards Ozzy politely. It's his turn to try to parse words.

Bertrand folds the paper and passes it back. He blinks at Ozzy, trying to translate this internally.

"Possibly?" Merelda says, raising her hands. "I couldn't say. Of course, you're quite busy here, and my cousin is tied up at the Molten Front. Not literally, you understand me, to my knowledge he has not been kidnapped. I mean that he is currently fighting there, with the 7th Legion. And then Mr. Farrens is naturally busy here as well. I'm not sure I know any other warlocks. Perhaps… after this business is concluded?"

"Maybe," Lena says, thinking. "There's May, and she's good at mysteries. I don't know if she'd be able to travel, though, with the baby."

"Ah!" Siamus is distracted from talk of shandoes. "Mrs. Hazan had her child?"

"Mayellen Hazan?" Bertrand smiles suddenly. "That's wonderful, good for her."

"Oh, yes," Lena says, smiling. "A healthy little girl, Aprilanna Hazan. All well, with mother and child. Oh, and father, naturally, but he was in no physical danger."

Siamus smiles crookedly. "No, I expect not, but I can tell ye it's a tense time for a father. I'm pleased to hear it. I'll send the lady something."

Bertrand leans back in his chair. Having a success story seems to set him at ease somewhat. "I'm going to write Scilla," he says, getting up abruptly. "I'll give her your regards."

Lena raises a hand in farewell.

"Take care," Merelda says with a smile, resting casually against Oslynn.

"Give her my best as well," Siamus tells Bertrand. "We'll see ye later."

"Will do." Bertrand smiles more easily at the group, waves, and heads back up the stairs.

Ozzy is back to leaning on Merelda now, but her eyes follow Bertrand's departure.

"It's good to hear happy news of children," Merelda says, something in her gaze going a little distant in thought. "I always assumed I would be an aunt one day. I have the Gravehowls. We have each other."

Ozzy nods emphatically.

"I should probably head out to the Keep myself," Lena says, rising from the table. "Let me know if you need anybody else summoned, alright?"

"Certainly, Miss Coit," Merelda says, softening the formality with a smile.

Siamus smiles up at her. "Good afternoon, Miss Coit."

Again, Ozzy watches the departure with silent pensiveness while leaning on Merelda's shoulder.

Lena smiles back at Siamus, and says "Good afternoon to you, too, Admiral," before she heads out of the inn common room — for now.