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Allegra finds a reasonably clear space next to a table and scrawls: lab. spirit? aligned with emotion? realm thing, aligned w/magic realm? most ghosts would be human...

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She points at the phrases one at a time: Spirit? Shrug. Emotion? Headshake. Aligned? Handwobble, headshake. Human? Handwobble, slightly more tentative headshake.

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Allegra looks puzzled for a moment, and then extremely annoyed with herself. "Oh, fuck, it's the egregore," she unhelpfully says aloud, before scrawling egregore on the piece of paper. 

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"Uh?"

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Allegra adds try not to kill them and it should go fine to the scrap of paper, hands Deskyl the scrap of paper and swiftly grabs an actual notebook, this is going to take more space.

Egregore is spirit of nation, likes to know what's going on, probably won't make a scene but might try to push you to see what happens, depends on which host we get

If they get hurt, not actually localised, there are several hosts, they will know and bad stuff will happen

what do you need right now, can I take a couple minutes to get dressed

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Go get dressed.

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Allegra closes the door. There is a lot of frantic motion and swearing, and two minutes later, a fully dressed Allegra opens the door again.

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Deskyl is staring worriedly off into the distance again when she opens the door, but looks back quickly enough. She's written I'll go get DZ and wait by the stream in the notebook, and shows it to her.

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Allegra nods, and indicates that Deskyl can keep the notebook and pencil by vaguely waving it away.

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She tucks them into a pocket and leaps onto the roof of the house behind her rather than deal with the crowd that's followed her in; she drops back down to street level on the other side of it without doing any obvious damage and speeds back toward her tent.

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Allegra spends a few minutes reassuring the Concerned Citizens With Spears that it's very unlikely anything bad is about to happen, Deskyl could just feel the egregore coming and egregores are pretty weird if you think about it, right - and, also, if it did, their spears would not help even slightly, so please go put them away again.

This seems to mostly work, although the proportion of people wandering around being generally alert and watching Deskyl from a polite distance has still definitely increased.

Then she makes her way to the stream.

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Deskyl has by this point had time to find a good spot for DZ and arrange her into a stable crosslegged seating position that will keep her upright without draining her battery; she's now explaining the situation in clipped signs, to the droid's occasional verbal acknowledgement.

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Allegra positions herself on the road, with clear sightlines both down the road and to Deskyl and DZ, and takes a steady stream of 'I heard there was something interesting going on?' 'Don't worry, the egregore's just coming back with Ytha' questions from various mildly interested citizens.

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Oh, that's useful.

Deskyl finishes talking to DZ and settles herself on the ground beside the droid with her lightsaber in her lap, to wait.

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Accompanying Ytha up the path, at a fairly sedate jog, is a heavily tattooed gentleman whose leather armour and belt contain several obvious knives of various lengths and that distinct sense that there is always another knife you haven't spotted yet. He moves with easy, almost predatory confidence.

They are sharing the job of pulling a small handcart, on which is piled up coils of copper wire.

As they get out into the clearing, Cerys looks around curiously and notices Deskyl and DZ, and with just a nod to Allegra, approaches them with polite caution while Ytha starts excitedly telling Allegra about her adventures in Sarvos.

"Greetings," he calls out, from a respectful distance, although he is still gradually approaching - in a similar way that one might carefully approach a wolf in the forest.

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Deskyl watches him closely, her caution matching his own as she absentmindedly rubs her thumb across the base of her lightsaber. When he speaks, she flinches, near-imperceptibly, but lets go of the 'saber to sign to DZ -

    "Hello, sir. Can we help you?"

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"I do hope so! I'm Cerys Liaven, egregore-host - do I need to explain further, or are you already familiar with the concept?

I do have a notebook in here somewhere if you'd prefer to have a written conversation."

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    "We're loosely familiar with the basic concept but may be missing some important details, sir."

 

   "And Master Deskyl is fine with having the conversation like this, but thank you for the offer."

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"So, the essential job of the egregore is to be the nation's Guide - not to impose anything on anyone, to be able to give a helpful nudge, to get folk into a better place in the Dance for themselves.

And citizenship is sworn to us - we spend a lot of time travelling, so every child that comes of age and takes the Binding of Thorns can swear themselves into the nation in a timely fashion - and also so outsiders who might want to join us are - appraised of what that means, and can make the right decision."

He's within easy conversation range now, but is carefully staying politely out of ordinary sword range, and warily observing all reactions.

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DZ is entirely immobile, with her voice and the gentle glow of her eyes being the only signs that she's more than a metal statue. Deskyl is more readable, though perhaps not usefully so; she's watchful but somewhat distracted in a way that might be a cover for nervousness, and she seems to want to always have at least one hand on her 'saber hilt, though in a way that seems more contemplative than threatening.

    "Yes sir. Master Deskyl isn't prepared to join your nation right now, she wants to wait until she's more fully recovered from her injuries to make any major decisions about her life going forward, but if you'd like to tell us about it that might still be useful."

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"Ah, the Navarr spiel! Stop me if you've heard all this before.

As a nation we are unique amongst the Empire because we have a shared, single cause - the eradication of the Vallorn. All Navarri are sworn to fight the Vallorn in whatever way they can best contribute - that is the Binding of Thorns, an oath that each one of us takes upon joining the nation.

Once upon a time, before the Empire existed, there was a great nation called Terunael, which stretched further than the current borders of the Empire. We Navarri are the remnants of that nation, and those who have felt called to join them. A great magical working was tried to defend the nation from the encroaching tribes of orcs; it backfired spectacularly, and created the Vallorn. Thus we are wary of magic, especially that of Spring, and our Vates who handle it are sworn to be the servants of the nation, and use their magic only for unselfish ends.

But magic can also be the tool we need to fix the mistakes of the past; our founders, Navarr and Thorn, did their own great magical working to give us the Trods, which we walk to draw energy gradually away from the Vallorn, rendering it defeatable.

Seren used to be the heart of a Vallorn; now it is our great capital city. We are building a great library in Hercynia, consolidating all the knowledge of the fight against the Vallorn, so that we might study how we apply that to the other Vallorn hearts. And we support the Empire in its works so that its borders expand, or it can make arrangements with its neighbours, and bring the Vallorn hearts still outside our reach into the Trod network - and one day destroy those, too.

The Empire has nine other nations, though - although you don't look much like an orc, so likely only eight you might want to consider. Obviously I am biased regarding which is best, but I'd be happy to give you a summary of the others too, if you think your path might lie elsewhere."

Cerys is clearly addressing Deskyl, and considering DZ to be something like a translation device - or, possibly, like a somewhat intelligent pet.

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    "Sith are inherently magical, sir, and she says she's not interested in becoming a Vate, if that narrows her options. On the other hand she is interested in seeing a Vallorn heart to find out if there's anything that she can do about them - she says she doesn't see the need to formally join the Navarr to help with them, necessarily, but she isn't sure of the cultural expectations around it."

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"You certainly don't have to join us to help with the Vallorn! There are thousands of Highborn Grey Pilgrims walking the Trods, hundreds from every nation in Broceliande right now, taking their chance to get to the heart of Terunael - under Rhianos's protection.

If you want to see the Heart of a Vallorn that's probably your best chance, too - the one in Hercynia is small enough that it's sometimes possible to get near, but still extremely dangerous. There's probably some soup left, if you make haste to the Broc.

You'd be better off travelling with some of us; if you attempt to go alone, those who live nearby might reasonably attempt to stop you - as a foreigner, you're protected by our laws, but preventing someone from interfering with the Vallorn is usually considered a good defence.

At least, I'm assuming you don't come from somewhere we're at war with? You don't much look like one of the Druj, or the Jotun."

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    "As a sensory specialist she won't necessarily need to get very close to a Vallorn to learn about it, sir, but she's not in a rush and she expects it to be a month or two before it's a good idea for her to travel in any case, so there's plenty of time to consider the logistics of something like that."

    "And, no, sir, we're not from anywhere you're at war with; we're from a different universe altogether."

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"A different... Some of the egregore's hosted have been Vates, but I'm not one myself. None of us have heard of - I'm assuming that's not just a strange way of talking about the Autumn realm, or - somewhere out in space, like where the Steinr came from?

If it's going to be a month or two then you'll miss the window in Broceliande.

Have you - a way to return? Or are you planning to stay with us indefinitely?"

Cerys definitely seems a bit off balance thinking about the idea of other universes, and his gaze goes distant a few times during this reply, as if he's mentally consulting with something or someone.

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