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a Lucy is born in Geb
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"Well, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that Hulrun is on the warpath against the Desnans, and the good news is that you have apparently been passively defying Hulrun ever since they pissed him off; one of them has been hiding here as a musician, according to her friend who asked us to check up on her." 

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"Oh? Perhaps these last two days haven't been such a waste after all. You have no idea how dreadful it's otherwise been. While I suppose there have been a few new musicians in attendance, everyone seems to consider the attack to mean that we should completely abandon anything fun. Would you believe I've had people asking me to allow hymns? In my manor, of all places?"

The shudder that comes after this is probably exaggerated.

"I think fully cleansing this place will require me to burn it to the ground. Perhaps I should call it a performance art, something about the state of Kenabres? But obviously until that happens I needed to stay as far away from any performances as possible, so I can't narrow things down much off of them being a wanted criminal. Do you know anything about the girl in question?"

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"Her name is Aranka, and she's friends with someone named Ilkes. The Desnans also had a warning that the demon attack was going to come, and the Prelate of course decided to confirm all my paranoia by deciding that that meant they were in on it. Also he came, like," she holds up a pair of fingers pressed together, "this close to deciding to kill us, just because--well, because I distracted him from trying to murder Ramien so that Ramien managed to get away, but I did it in a plausibly deniable manner, so I don't think he gets much credit for that! If he can't murder people while someone calls his title unexpectedly that kind of seems like a him problem, you know?"

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"I see. Well, I don't recognize the name, but there aren't that many people here so it shouldn't be an issue."

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The inside of the Arendae manor is not exactly a party, but it's still more of a celebration than most things that aren't. If there is one useful thing that Daeran absolutely cannot be said to be short on, it's large quantities of food that will go badly quickly enough to not be worth rationing, and even with the influx of people seeking relative safety it's hardly more populated than the largest celebrations he'd thrown before. She'd still much rather be out helping people with her friends, but as places to not get murdered by overconfident fools go it could have been much worse - for all his other faults, the count at least seemed willing to step up somewhat in a crisis like this, and playing music to keep people's spirits up wasn't nothing. 

The count bringing someone backstage in person was a bit unusual, but from the looks of the girl there was an easy guess why, and as long as the girl in question didn't seem unhappy about it it wasn't really her business.

"Are you here about a request for music?"

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“Nope. Are you Aranka? Ramien and Ilkes are okay.”

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"Who's asking?"

The moment the words come out of her lips, she realizes her mistake. She's being needlessly confrontational, and for what? If she said that to an inquisitor that didn't recognize her it would still be basically as good as a confession. 

"That is, yes. You spoke with them?"

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“Yeah. Ramien had…an altercation…with Hulrun, but he got away before Hulrun could do actual violence to him. We guessed he would go back to the temple and went to check on him—I’m honestly kind of concerned about that, if it was that easy to guess I bet Hulrun also can—he’s okay for right now, though, and when I asked if I could help he gave me Ilkes’ message for you. And my name is Luzai Seshka. Is who’s asking.”

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Aranka softens at that, Luzai's explanation quelling the rest of her fears.

"And then you came all the way here to tell me? Ilkes has really made a brilliant friend this time - it's a shame we didn't meet in better circumstances, but I appreciate hearing he's alright."

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"It was sort of on the way to where we were going anyway." 

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"Also Luzai thinks flirting with the Count is fun and a good idea." 

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Sisterly elbow to the ribs. "Sorry about him. Brothers." 

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"Well, you could definitely do worse."

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"What exactly are you trying to imply here?"

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"She could also do much better." 

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Daeran staggers back, clutching his chest as though injured.

 

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Luzai laughs. 

"He's pretty, he has a sense of humor, and Hulrun loathes him. What more can you ask for, in the middle of a demonic invasion?" 

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"My three most charming qualities," Daeran easily agrees. "If I only measure up to your august standards in the middle of a demonic invasion, though, I'd better make a move."

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She grins at him. 

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"Luzai I cannot emphasize enough that you are not having sex with this man right now, we have a mission. Multiple missions!" 

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"I'm sorry, we were slightly raised by ghouls and he thinks tact is a vegetable." 

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"I wouldn't know; I've certainly never had any myself. What missions would these happen to be?"

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She ticks off her fingers. "Scouting an assemblage of demons and cultists at the Tower of Estrod, and finding someone called the Storyteller who might have any idea what's wrong with the Wardstone. He was last seen at the Blackwing Library...I really hope it hasn't taken too much damage." 

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"A storyteller? Perhaps I ought to be joining you; with any luck whatever they have to say will be more interesting than waiting here."

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She looks up sharply. "Would you? It would be--on a practical level, it would be really, really useful to have a better healer than Seelah--no offense, Seelah--on an impractical level, can you imagine the face Hulrun would make if I pulled the angel sword out again while you were right there--plus, also, it would serve my brother right for teasing me--" 

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