We deserve it, don't we?

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus lives in a well-appointed home in the Upper City, which is a surprise to most of the people who know both him and the political and social structures of Baldur's Gate. It's a swanky neighborhood, is the thing, and Barcus has never been the sort of man to admit he's well off. It's not something he thinks about; he measures his wealth in the time he has to pursue his private projects, and in that sense he's...comfortable, yes, but there's always going to be something he wants to learn that he can't get around to. Ah, well. Life is too short.

In any case, his home is very nice indeed, though it isn't one of those ridiculous patriar mansions like Cazardor's gothic monstrosity. Three stories, one of which is entirely underground and which houses his equipment. The ground floor is a living area. The top floor is a library, with a collection that impressed Gale the first time he saw it. (Not a tenth the size of his own shelves in Waterdeep, naturally, but a good piece of work nonetheless, never knew you had it in you, Barcus!) Outside is a small walled garden, which he never bothered to grow anything in before, but now that he's "home" again, ostensibly with the ability to travel to and from Caldera as he likes, he's set a few potted plants in place, trying to decide how much care he can remember to give them.

Satchel, to her great credit, has settled into the place like it was made for her. Mornings, she can be found sunning on the patio. At night, she prowls the upper-floor library, as if patrolling for mice. Or bookworms.

Should a visitor from out of town arrive, it would not take much effort to find him. The Ironhand-Gondian alliance has picked up steam fast, gathering immense influence in a short amount of time. His name is known, as is his work, and--perhaps to his detriment, in the long run--his address.

Do come visit!

Comments

Arrival of Elf Family

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas' departure from Caldera had come with no fanfare. The house had been left furnished, the hearthfires cold, everything carefully closed up and warded against time and its depredations. The wise and clever amongst them would have seen it before-hand, in the generosity of gifts, and the private assurances; of course they would visit. Of course. But they had other duties, another home, and unlike many, Solas possessed the tools and power to cross between any world— not merely the doorways Caldera's permeable walls had left open to them.

So it is when, one sunny, cheerful morning, a slim, scintillating green spark crackles into being in the air above the courtyard of Barcus' dwelling. It hangs there, hissing and popping and then, as if satisfied at what it sees, draws a long, writhing line of lightning through the air, down, down, down, until it meets the flagstones. And then, as if that contact had been some sort of trigger, the way springs abruptly open. In one moment it is a captive bold of virulent green lightning, and in the next a smooth and pale surface, shimmering and faintly-blue, like a mirror, or the underside-surface of a shallow pool of water.

A face emerges, and then a shoulder, and then Solas steps out from the Eluvian portal.

He surveys their surroundings with calm aplomb; the streets, the sky, the shocked and terrified face in a side-window, and the young man, scrambling to run and abandoning his delivery-cart in the process. Sensing no genuine threat, Solas turns back to signal the all-clear, and is met by another elf, who comes through with one arm burdened by a tightly-wrapped bundle, and her other hand tight around the hand of a third— a child with a riot of curly, copper-colored hair. For a moment they simply stand close together, speaking quietly, while the little girl peers around in every direction, clutching at knees.

With the wave of a hand and a sharp crack, the portal vanishes, and Solas walks ahead of his little family, to make the appropriate noise at the door:

Knock, Knock... is anyone home?

[lost_and_foundry]

Lest anyone be concerned they came to the wrong house, a flash of movement in one of the windows draws the eye, and they should see a familiar cat peering through the glass. Satchel is wearing a new collar, with an elegant butterfly bow, but otherwise looks the same as ever she did in Caldera. Meeting Solas' eye, she meows, though the sound is inaudible through glass.

A second later, the door opens, and Barcus is standing there with a pair of reading glasses perched on his forehead, and a worn leather apron tied over his brocade doublet. It's been a busy day, and it's only mid-morning.

He blinks at Solas, glances into the yard as if looking for the portal that brought him, blinks again at the children, and then smiles, folding his arms over his chest. "So you didn't forget me after all! Hello, dear."

"You may as well come in, all of you." His expression softens when he looks at the child, and he gives her a friendly nod. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where she must have come from, but he'll have exclaim about that later. (Is that a second one? An infant? Magga camarra!)

"I was in the middle of something with Thulla, but we were almost done anyway." If Solas looks past him, he'll see a woman about Barcus' size, but with slightly darker skin, blue-violet eyes, and close-cropped white hair. She seems to be sizing him up, though not necessarily in an unfriendly way.

"He's still got six pages to initial," she says primly. "Dibs on his right hand until that's done, but you can have the rest of him any old time."

[goethbeforethefall]

"You are unforgettable," Solas replies, with stalwart serenity, and smiles when he notices Barcus' attention pass over the ginger cloud at his knees. The child is staring with enormous eyes, "...This is Avisenehn. My daughter."

The girl glances up at the sound of her name, and then back at her mother as if to ask for permission— or reassurance. Evidently satisfied by what she sees there, she babbles a lilting stream of fluid elvhen.

"Try again in Common, da'len," Solas admonishes, indulgently, and the child scowls, "...She has not spent much time in mortal realms."

"Hello," She says, in her small, accented voice, "I am the Wolf's daughter, Avi. You are very small!"

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus' smile widens slowly, but he doesn't interrupt, simply listening to the child. Sometimes it takes a while to understand what they're talking about even when they're speaking Common, in his experience, but he's grateful for Solas' eventual intervention.

"I'm afraid andaran atish’an is about the only elvhen I know," he tells her. "But perhaps you can teach me a bit more while you're here."

He offers a handclasp. "Well met, dear. I'm Barcus. My kind are a small people, comparatively speaking."

"Or everyone else is just too big," Thulla suggests, and holds out a sheaf of papers, determined to get the work done. Barcus hums and moves to the side, beckoning his guests in, and then leans over to scribble his initials on the papers. "Depends how you look at it."

"Give me just a moment and I'll get you all some refreshment." Barcus says. "What do you like to drink, Avi? I know some of us don't much care for tea. Solas, how long has it been for you? I suppose time passes differently where you've been staying."

[goethbeforethefall]

"It has been a few years. But time passes strangely in the Fade, or so I am told. Or perhaps," With a knowing nod towards Barcus' businesslike aide, as his daughter dubiously accepts Barcus' hand in her own chubby fingers, "It is all the rest of you who pass the time at an unusual pace."

Behind them, the bundle in Beleth's arms has begun protesting the injustice of his ill-treatment— or perhaps merely the presence of the myriad smells and sounds of Baldur's Gate, and the consequential absence of their routine atmosphere. Solas, observing these struggles, smiles with helpless affection, and together they go in. The room is darker than the outer sunlight, and the change soothes— well, some part of the children.

"Please, take your time. There was no way to easily send a warning ahead, of our visit. Clearly, we have—"

"Vherlin!" For her own part, Avisenehn points and gasps. Satchel, who stops her confident parade into the room with an abrupt bout of stage-fright, "Papae! Vherlin! Sathan vherlin'dara ma?"

"...Common, da'len," He reminds her again, but she is too excited to heed him, tugging on the corner of his sleeves and pointing again with an insistent Papae!, and Solas sighs a little, "How is Satchel with children?"

[lost_and_foundry]

Thulla smirks at that, appreciating the acknowledgement. Between that and the wife and kids, you have earned her seal of approval, saer. You can stay.

"Well, I left some pieces of clockwork on the dining table," Barcus says, "so perhaps discourage your little one from climbing on it. Aside from that, once Thulla's had her fill, I'm free for the day."

"No worries," the female gnome says cheerfully. "I'm not so hard up for company I'd spend the day with you, boss."

The way Barcus snorts and stifles a grin suggests this is a common joke between them. "Away with you, then," he says, and tucks the pen behind her ear in an almost brotherly gesture. "Tell the Toobins I'll see them tomorrow. Now--"

Whatever he was about to say to Solas gets interrupted by Satchel and Avi locking eyes from across the room. Oh. Well, then! He doesn't need to speak elvhen to get the gist of this. "Truthfully she's never had much interaction with children, but she's let Night Sky, Zenri, and assorted druids maul and snuggle her in various shapes both large and small, without complaint. Speak gently and don't pull or squeeze her, dear, I'm sure she'll be all right."

Satchel has yet to meet someone whose attention she doesn't ultimately want, so at worst, this will be a learning experience for everyone. "But I will," Barcus adds, "insist on a proper introduction to the baby before much longer. You lot have been busy."

[arlathvhen]

"I would certainly like some tea." Beleth speaks up finally, having lulled her fussy infant into sleeping in the sling around her chest. "If the offer is still available. Floral, if you have it. I worry about herbs and caffeine with Nori." There is a gesture to the now sleeping baby, still young enough to nurse, and thus, young enough for Beleth to fret over what she puts in her own body.

"The little one -- littler one, perhaps," She says, as she watches her little-but-not-as-little daughter peek over the table at the cat in question, too distracted to argue that she's not little at all. "He is Aenorean -- though I suspect he will be Nori for a while yet." Aenorean being a mouthful for any little mouth. "He'll grow into it, though, as will Avi. And Lini as well -- Lingrean, Nori's twin. She is with Felassan. She was being fussy, so he located a store where people were doing... party tricks?"

An odd thing to see, when so used to Southern Thedas, where magic was shut away from the public eye.

It is then that she manages to pull her mind off of the children, and put her focus on something besides.

"But what about you, falon? How have you been? I kept meaning to come sooner, but..." A meaningful glance at the children once more. "...I got distracted."

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas looks up from his task of ensuring their daughter's gentleness, and easing the cat's rightful caution.

"There are three," he says with what he is clearly trying to make a humble tone; his pride in the accomplishment, in the children, and in Beleth herself, spoils the effect, and he isn't sorry for that, "Twins run in Beleth's line."

And how own, now— a thought no less strange and satisfying for being the hundredth time he's had it. He has never had family before, not like this, and despite his dignity Solas is dizzyingly, brilliantly happy.

"We have all been busy. It has been three years, for us; the work is significant, but the reward worthy of it. Our children will grow up in a world free from Blight."

[lost_and_foundry]

Satchel's caution is easily assuaged. The trick will be to keep her from trying to climb into Avi's lap while she's still standing.

Barcus nods at Beleth as if to say tea is absolutely still on the table (figuratively speaking; he'll have to make it before it's literally available). "Chamomile all right? I get a taste for it in the evenings before bed."

His hospitality is promptly derailed by the additional information, however, and the way his face lights up you'd think he'd just been introduced to his nieces and nephews by blood rather than by way of friendship. "Twins?? Oh my dear, congratulat--you know, I'm not sure Sorcerer's Sundries is ideal for children, but never mind that--congratulations!"

He makes a move to hug Beleth, adjusts his approach so as not to squish the baby, and embraces her gently before forcing the same sort of hug on Solas. "Gods, I'm a little envious. We'll have to adopt if I'm ever to have any, but I grew up in an enormous family. I've thought about it."

Bel probably needs time to settle in before he broaches the topic.