Frost Gale seems like a completely different world from Moonglade, even if it isn't really that far away.

Its even more strange and foreign compared to the temperate and lush Crescent Isle that Cirice has known all her life. From the biting chill of the wind, the deep, wet cold that seeps into your bones and makes your blood feel like its freezing in your veins, and the seemingly endless blanket of unmarred snow, Cirice was wholly unprepared. Upon setting foot in the country, she realized she needed an entire new set of warm clothes and fur lined boots and spent far too much money decking herself out in more appropriate attire. Having pretty much depleted all the funds she's collected in her travels, she starts looking for jobs in the area. The mountains in the distance stretching large and looming and enticing on the horizon invite her to venture out of the Pale City and see what other wonders, natural and unnatural might be out in the white void and what work might be available out there. 

Deciding that traversing this strange new land alone might be a bit too ambitious, she heads into the biggest tavern she can find and see if there are any people that might want a traveling partner. She heads into the Winter's Howl tavern and grabs a hot cider before grabbing a table to herself and looking over the patrons inside. Surely one of these people are friendly and would like a companion...

The Winter’s Howl was a welcome respite from the harsh elements outside. Cyran had rarely had the chance to spend much time in Frostgale, and as time dragged on, he was beginning to see why he didn’t often venture this far north. Centuries he’d spent in Eclipse City had acclimated him to warm, comfortable weather- not unbearably hot, but pleasant and calm, and a touch humid. Since leaving home, he’d taken to wearing thick coats and layers, but even his current attire could prepare him for Frostgale’s harsh climates. Somewhere along the line he’d procured a dark, fur-lined cloak to ward off the chill, but even the cloak did little from preventing him from looking like a bedraggled, frozen cat as he stepped into the tavern one cold evening after the day’s work had been taken care of.

He’d been tasked with disposing of a merchant who’d stolen rare goods from a competitor- it had been surprisingly quick work, but at least he would have the chance to unwind and rest the day’s troubles away. Yes, a night in would be deserved, especially considering he’d heard from a few locals that a blizzard would be blowing in soon…

A waitress approached him as he rubbed his arms, brushing off some of the snow that had accumulated on him as a waitress approached and offered to take his cloak and hang it up. He waved them off, not willing to part with his only source of warmth- but he did order a mulled wine and a bowl of stew, which would hopefully warm his insides. As she scurried off to fill his order, Cyran surveyed the tavern, taking in his surroundings.

The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a fireplace crackling in the corner and a couple groups sitting around telling stories. It seemed that, despite the harsh atmosphere in the Pale City, the inside of the Winter’s Howl was a warm respite from an otherwise bleak life. He found himself smiling as he searched for a place to sit, when he noticed another moon elf at a table in the corner, similarly bundled for the cold weather and shivering slightly while she sipped at a warm drink from a mug. Another Moonglade native? Cyran recognized the markings on her face as the kind some followers of Lunala wore- Rowan once had a similar ebony moon marking on her forehead. Despite the markings identifying her as a woman of the cloth, she had a friendly smile on her face, and almost seemed to be looking for someone to talk to.

Cyran supposed a little conversation wouldn’t hurt. He might not have considered Moonglade... home for a long time, but he still had moments of nostalgia, on quiet nights like tonight, especially upon seeing something so hauntingly familiar.

He approached the other table with a smile, gesturing towards an empty seat at her table. “Hello, there. Would you mind terribly if I sit?”

The handsome moon elf coming over and asking to sit breaks Cirice out of her reverie and she smiles warmly at him, trying to not seem too excited for the company.

"Please, join me!" Heat rises to her cheeks, perhaps from the cold or perhaps from the unexpected attractive company. Her skill at guessing at someone's age is terrible, but she's sure that the man sitting with her is older than she is, his movements much more graceful than hers and his eyes full of confidence and experience. Then again, everyone has more experience than she does. This trip to Frost Gale is her first time leaving the Crescent Isle even. If Mother Moon hadn't told her to venture elsewhere and spread her name she might never have left the Isle, but she's glad she did. She wonders what brought her companion up here to the frozen north. 

"Hi, I'm Cirice! Cirice Lunestra. May I have your name? What brings you to this chilly place tonight?" Her questions are innocent enough she hopes. She's learned by now not to talk too loudly or ask too many questions or people in taverns might follow you out and try to stab you. Iryla taught her that. She promised she wouldn't forget the lesson.

He was immediately greeted by a grin and a plea for company, confirming Cyran’s guess that she’d been lonely over here. Her enthusiasm was certainly a change from the last time he’d shared a table with a stranger in a busy tavern- her ready acceptance for company was nearly startling in comparison to Tellan’s hesitance. He seated himself across from her nonetheless, a sheepish smile on his face even though she had clearly voiced that he was welcome to join her.

The waitress came over a few seconds later with his order, and he delicately picked up his cup in an attempt to warm his frostbitten fingers. Even the heat from the warmed wine did little to bring feeling back to them right away, but after he sipped at his drink and set the cup back down, he did not release his grip right away. Just as he was settling in, the younger girl, who introduced herself as Cirice, hit him with a series of rapid-fire questions. The name sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place where. Perhaps from Iryla, or Zarius, or any other inhabitants of the Rookery?

Cyran took her enthusiasm in stride- he was used to working with more excitable people by this point. Upon closer inspection, Cirice appeared younger than he’d initially expected, especially for a woman with her particular religious markings. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say she was still barely in her first century of life, maybe even around Vi’ira’s age. The difference was in her eyes- hers were still bright and lacked any world weariness he would expect of someone older. The revelation only made him more curious as to what she was doing so far north.

“My name is Cyran.” He said, only slightly hesitating before offering his name. Even if Cirice was from any of the temples in Eclipse City, there was still only a slight chance she’d heard of his name given her apparent age. “And it’s lovely to meet you, Cirice. I was here taking care of a job, but I have since finished, and I’ve mostly been looking to relax somewhere warm.” He did not elaborate on exactly what kind of job he'd been working on. 

“But what brings you this far north? I assume you… practice?” He gestured towards his forehead in the spot where Cirice’s mark of the moon was. “It’s been some time since I’ve met a priestess- I wasn’t aware they ventured up here all the way from Moonglade.”

"Cyran?" Cirice's eyes light up with delight, not noticing his small hesitance, "Wait, are you Iryla's dad? She mentioned you! She was woefully sparse on the details though. Can you tell me why she's so uncomfortable getting compliments?" Her excitement over meeting someone related to her friend almost makes her forget his questions. She immediately forgets to be guarded or careful, happy to discuss herself and her adventures with someone that could be a new friend as well.

"I'm actually from the Crescent Isle, I think we might do things a little differently from in Moonglade proper. I am a priestess of sorts, though I didn't train in a temple." Her blush deepens, a little bashful about her humble origins. "Mother Moon saved my life as a child and she guides me now. I'm here because she told me in a dream there was opportunity to spread her name through my deeds." 

Beside herself with excitement she takes a swig of her cider, practically bouncing in her chair from the good fortune. What were the chances of meeting Iryla's dad out here? If he's been working out here maybe he can show her where the best place to find work might be. 

"I actually met Iryla in Starlight City, that was the first place I went on my journey after coming of age and leaving home. I met lots of wonderful people there! Iryla, Astrid, Blue Raspberry, and Zarius! Mother Moon said that I should find someone with horns and they'd help me, and she was right. Zarius found me and helped me get new clothes and sent me to work with Iryla! She's adorable, by the way. I love Iryla so much!" 

Cirice prattles on joyfully, a completely open book happy to share.

Cirice definitely recognized his name… though not for the reasons he expected.

“Dad?” He repeated, flushing red to the tips of his ears as his composure unraveled like a spool of yarn. “Um. I don’t. I suppose in a sense, yes, but I would not wish to assume she sees me as such-” He paused- “Did she actually call me that?” He asked, perhaps a bit hopeful. Vaguely, he remembered Zarius discussing some mission with Iryla down in the Crescent Isles, which Cirice claimed she was from. As for the compliments… he had noticed a similar trend, though he assumed it was because she was unused to receiving them. It eased his worries somewhat knowing that she had friends aside from the Rookery’s inhabitants looking out for her.

He was still reeling from being identified as Iryla’s father so he almost missed Cirice explaining that she wasn’t quite a priestess from a traditional temple. That didn’t sound quite right… but Cyran wasn’t versed enough in the differences between mainland and Crescent Isles practices to dispute her point. The phrase Mother Moon struck a chord with him, however, and not an especially pleasant one. He suppressed a grimace at the phrase. Cirice’s connection with Lunala seemed far more kindly than the one Rowan had, though, and she spoke about her savior with kindness and reverence.

She launched into a story about Iryla that quickly morphed into a story about meeting Astrid and Wolfe for the first time- small world, Cyran thought to himself- and how Zarius helped her. There was a lot to process there, but Cyran nodded along with all the infinite patience of someone who was used to excitable kids babbling in his ear.

“Yes, I am fond of her, too.” Cyran admitted. “We are not related by blood, but rather circumstance. I am happy to have met her, and Zarius as well.” The criminal had been helpful to Cyran, and while he was under no illusions that it was for the tiefling’s own gain, it was still a worthy relationship to foster, and Cyran still appreciated his company. “Astrid and Wolfe included, of course.”

He laughed as she nearly launched herself out of her chair in excitement. “Well, any friend of Iryla’s is a friend of mine. So tell me, are you here because this… Mother Moon… sent you to spread word of her in Frostgale? Or are you here for something more specific?”

Cyran's obvious pleasure at her revelation about Iryla warms Cirice's heart more than the cider ever could. She guesses that Iryla is about as good at showing affection as she is receiving it and he says he loves her too! Honestly even if they aren't blood related then loving each other makes them as much of a family as they can be and she will do anything she can to help Iryla feel more happy and confident.

"She absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent called you dad. It struck me really odd because before that she'd said she didn't really know what she was and just kind of went with being a moon elf... But if you are more of an adoptive dad that makes sense. She seems like she needed a good loving family to build her up. I'm happy to know she has someone so nice taking care of her!" Cirice's memory might be a little fuzzy on the details, a lot was going on at the time, but she believes wholeheartedly that Iryla mentioned Cyran was her father and she can't let him down now. Look at how happy he is! 

"You know everyone! Zarius got me a bunch of new clothes and I earned this necklace that matches his eyes to remind me of him!" She shows him the small topaz nestled against her throat. "Well... I don't know who Wolfe is, wait, do you mean Blue Raspberry? Do you call him that because he can turn into a big blue wolf? HE CAN RUN UP WALLS! It was the scariest thing I've done and that was my first adventure!" Flashbacks of nearly falling off a sheer cliff face and watching harpies get slurped and smashed flit across her mind and she shivers a little. 

"I am here because Mother Moon came to me in a dream and said to come spread her name here in the north. I commune with her in my sleep, you see. Iryla said its weird but I love it. It makes me feel so close to her! But I spent all my money getting warm clothes and now I'm looking for a job so I can make more and travel around. I want to see the mountains! Have you seen the mountains yet, Mr. Cyran?"

“She did?” He wasn’t sure how to handle that information- on one hand, Cirice seemed completely confident in what she was saying, but on the other, Cyran wasn’t sure he’d done anything to be deserving of the title yet. Doubt lingered in the back of his mind like a poison, the stinging reminder that he did not deserve such nice things, or that Iryla would never truly think of him that way. Yes, Cirice must have been trying to make him feel better. Still, it was a nice thought to entertain, even if it was only pretend. “I am not very knowledgeable about her lineage, unfortunately. I know the moon elf half, but the other…” He shrugged. “But I am happy she has a friend that cares about her wellbeing so much.”

Cirice then proceeded to show off her necklace for Cyran to gaze at, babbling on about Zarius and Wolfe and their adventures together. He didn’t understand why Cirice might need a reminder of the tiefling, unless they had some deeper connection that he didn’t know about. “Um, yes, Wolfe is a new name of theirs, I believe.” If he understood correctly, they’d picked it to help blend in as a human, but Cyran wasn’t sure the extent to which Cirice knew about their nature, so he would refrain from commenting.

He had nearly finished up his stew at this point, and he pushed back his bowl as Cirice happily described her connection to Lunala, and exactly what had brought her to Frostgale. Cyran felt a shiver creep up his spine, unbidden, at the mention of dreams and communion.

That sounds… dangerous.

Cyran did not respond to her question for a long time, letting the conversation lapse into silence as he mulled over what she’d said. It almost sounded the way heretic followers of Lunala described their connection to her, but Cirice spoke about the moon the way one would speak about a grandmother rather than a dark goddess. He wasn’t sure what to think about it anymore.

“You need money?” He asked, shoving those lingering thoughts aside before he let the silence stretch for too long. “Do you at least have a place to stay for the night?” He asked, concern lacing his words, though Cirice sounded rather nonchalant about lacking any funds. “If you’re looking for work, I’m sure there’s plenty that can be found around here, depending on what kind of skills you have.”

He took another sip of his wine. “I have not had a chance to visit the mountains of Frostgale yet.” If he were being honest, he hadn’t really been planning on it. He wasn’t exactly fond of freezing to death, but he wasn’t sure how confident he was leaving Cirice alone to go galavanting around in such extreme weather. “But if you’d like help finding a job, or a travel companion in the mountains, then I would be happy to accompany you.”

Cyran seems like a good dad. Cirice likes him a lot already. Its nice to know he knows practically all her friends too, he must be a really wonderful person. They discus their shared friends and Cirice nods along happily as he gives her more information on her friends. She finishes her cider as the silence stretches between them, feeling far warmer than she had since she got to Frost Gale. 

"Well no I don't have a place to stay tonight really, I was going to see if anyone had any need for healing and see if I could earn the money for a nights stay here. Don't worry. I'm very good at healing! Mother Moon gave me her blessing to heal the hurt and sick. Its makes me happy to help others!" She's very proud of this power, her healing has gotten her pretty far and she's certain that she will be alright and able to fend for herself okay. "I can also make light and fight with magic. Oh and I'm pretty sneaky too! I needed to be after my adventure with Iryla."

She stands up with a gasp of pure excitement, her eyes shining with excitement, "Yes! Please! I would love that!" She squeals in delight, practically bouncing from joy. 

This is the best night! Her heart dances in joy. Her journey has been so strange and wonderful, finding wonderful people more and more on her way! The path of moonlight is truly paved with the friendship made along the way!

“So you’re a healer?” That was unexpected. He’d met many of Lunala’s followers, and none of her priests had been versed in the healing arts. It was a relief to hear that she was able to make money by helping people rather than using her gifts to harm, the way he had done. She clearly still held a lot of love and passion for life, and even though she held a lot of energy, far more than he was used to dealing with, it was a nice change of pace. At least, until he heard her comment about her adventure.

“Wait… what happened with Iryla?” He asked, alarmed, but Cirice had already moved onto another topic, throwing him for another loop by bouncing in her seat, clapping her hands at the excitement of getting to travel the mountains together.

Cyran was about to interrogate her more about what happened with Iryla when the front door opened, and a handful of angry men blew in like a storm, arguing loudly enough that Cyran could hear them from where they were sat enjoying their drinks.

“... We’re going to lose the whole shipment at this rate!”

“I can sooner divert nature from its course than I can spontaneously summon the cart here!” The second man shouted. “What do you suggest we do?”

Cyran shot an uneasy look to Cirice as the jovial, peaceful mood of the tavern was broken by their entrance. He wasn’t sure if he should intervene, but whatever they were talking about, it sounded serious.

Completely undeterred by the angry men, her happiness from Cyran inviting her to travel with him is too great to be brought down by the trifling issue of people being angry and loud. She spins on her heel, her joyful smile warm enough to melt the snow off the newcomers.

"Hi guys!" She chirps, "Sounds like you have a job you need help with! I'd be happy to help if you're hiring!"

Cirice is not good at reading the room, nor does she notice the various pairs of suspicious eyes that glance hers and Cyran's way. "Whatever the matter is I'm sure we can handle it!"

Here they go, a great way to make money and travel! Now she and Cyran can go and have an adventure together and she won't have to rely too heavily on Iryla's dad's generosity. It would be really rude for her to rely too heavily on him. Even if he is her best friend's dad. Maybe she can even brag to Iryla about all the cool stuff they did together when they see each other again. Speaking of she really wants to get a souvenir to add to her outfit that represents the father and daughter duo, maybe a cool cloak like they both have! She'll need money for more clothes so she hopes this job will pay well!

Cyran had been about to suggest to Cirice that they keep their heads down and mind their own business, but the young lady had already spun around and skipped up to the men, a bright, innocent smile on her face that gave Cyran the impression that she was a fish unknowingly swimming into the shark’s den. The two men did not soften at her approach- in fact, their glares only seemed to deepen when she approached, upset that someone had the gall to interrupt their business.

“... What do you want, girl?” The first one spat suspiciously as Cirice waved, introducing herself and offering her services with their problem, going as far to extend Cyran’s services as well. And of course Cyran was going to go along with it, because who else was going to go along and stop Cirice from getting killed from going around and talking to any suspicious individual that looked like they might have had a job? Was this what Iryla had experienced during her mission from Zarius? A thousand warning lessons about stranger danger and don’t talk to angry people in the middle of an argument died on his lips, however, as the second human looked from Cirice to Cyran, raising his eyebrows slowly as if considering the offer.

“You folk mercenaries, then?”

“Nah, girl’s dressed too pretty to be a hired hand.”

“The guy’s got weapons though.” The second one pointed out. "And she looks like one of those spellcasters."

Cyran took that moment to stand from the table, abandoning his now-empty plate and bowl, standing at Cirice’s side protectively, resting his hand on the very dagger that the men had spotted. “Apologies for interrupting you. My friend here and I couldn’t help but overhear your argument,” Hell, the whole tavern would have had a hard time missing it, “And we happen to be looking for work. If there’s something that needs to be done, then we’ll be happy to offer our services.”

The two shared a look, having a mental argument with one another before the first one gave up, and the second human turned back to the two moon elves. “We’re expecting a big shipment tonight from Dragon’s Cradle. But our men were supposed to show up at the meeting point an hour ago, and we haven’t heard from them since they sent word they were about to pass through the Ice Fields.”

“They must have gotten turned around somewhere up there- if they’re not lost, then they got stuck.”

“We really need those supplies.” The second man explained. “If we lose them, we’re out hundreds of solars of our time, effort, and goods, and we’ll lose a big business partner.”

“We’d be willing to pay a good chunk of cash to make sure the shipment gets here safe.” The first added. “Well? Are you two in?”

"Very astute, sir! I am a cleric of Mother Moon!" Cirice answers happily, his tone barely fazing her chipper smile as she gives him a little curtsey with her long layered purple skirts. "Thank you very much for the compliment, I just bought all this nice winter garb here and was looking for a new job!"

As Cyran comes to join her she happily leans her head against his arm for a moment as he talks, nodding along with him. They had been really loud and kinda rude to just ruin the warm, inviting atmosphere of the tavern. She listens carefully to their problem, if people are missing then she wants to go help find them and get them home safe to their families. Family is so important. 

"We're absolutely in!" She chirps, leaning in and poking both men's noses playfully, a flash of soft lavender light racing up the runes on her arms under her elbow-length gloves¹. Both men's expressions soften considerably. "We'll get your things for you, no problem, but more importantly we'll make sure your men get home safe! You should care more for your employees, not just your goods and money." She tuts and the men nod along a little².

"Please give us alllll the details! But you don't have to be so loud and mad about it. This is such a nice place, its rude to just go shouting and bother everyone else." She continues, ushering to their table for them to join the two of them.

---

1 Be Jolly [1 of 2]
2 Smooth Talking

Cyran opened his mouth to reply to their offer, but Cirice beat them to the punch, poking them in the noses and casting some sort of spell. What had she done? It didn’t seem to be offensive, but Cyran watched from behind, shoulders tense as he waited for one of them to yell at her for using magic on them, but the men only relaxed, plastering almost vacant smiles on their faces.

“Well, we’re glad to finally have someone competent on the job.” The first one said, turning to the other one, who was already digging into his pocket for a coin pouch, which he tossed to Cirice.

“Half up front- the other half will come once you get back with the cart.”

“Yeah, you’re right- sorry for the aggression.” He started, much to Cyran’s shock. Their attitudes were completely different than they’d been moments ago, as if they had seriously taken her words into consideration, but that didn’t seem right. He’d met people before with beguiling words, people who could twist the perception of others with only a smile and some platitudes… or was Cirice’s joy simply that infectious? He made a note to ask Iryla about her strange new friend when he was back home at the rookery.

Speaking of, he should try to get her something while he was here. Everywhere he went in his travels, he tried to pick up a trinket for Marlow, something small to carry around for him that he could give to her if- when, he sternly corrected himself- he saw her again. Somewhere along the line, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, he had begun to include Iryla in that tradition too.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the merchant speaking up again, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

“We’ve just been stressed about this shipment coming in. We really don’t know much- just that they should be somewhere in the ice fields. If they’ve gotten held up, they’ll probably have started some kind of fire as a signal. There are eight men in total, and one wagon full of scrap metal. We’re supposed to get it to a blacksmith around here for a big order of weapons.”

“But you folk are the first people that have offered to reach out and help us. We’re really grateful for your assistance- and on such short notice, too. You two were probably in the middle of a nice evening in.”

“But whenever you’re ready to set out, we’d be greatly appreciative.” The other man added. “Do you have any other questions for us?” That was addressed to Cirice- the two didn’t seem especially focused on Cyran at all, which was just fine with him. He was not someone that tended to be noticed, and those that did usually didn’t remember him afterwards. He leaned back and let Cirice do the talking for both of them- gods knew she was more than sociable enough.

Catching the coin purse out of the air not exactly gracefully, nearly fumbling it, Cirice smiles, "We won't let you down!" She holds up the coin purse to Cyran for approval, jingling it slightly before putting in her pocket. Then she nods seriously at the merchants.

"I understand, it must be very hard to be a merchant. Nature, time, monsters, customers, all of them take their toll. But don't worry. We'll find your guys and bring them home. Cart and all! Then everyone will be happy! We were in the middle of a nice night, but I can't say no to people in need. In the future people are more likely to listen and help you if you're not upset and loud. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar my mother always says!" She pats their shoulders affectionately, another flash of soft lavender traveling up her arms¹. "Take a deep breath and try to relax and let go of a little of the stress². We'll leave first thing in the morning and hurry out there and get everything back! I don't have any questions. Thank you. I think we were just about to retire for the evening. We'll see you fine gentlemen in the morning. Good night."

With that she gives them another curtsey and looks at Cyran with a smile before going to buy them a room for the night. Once she's secured them lodgings she skips up the stairs and into the room. As they pass the merchants and head upstairs their fog of happiness seems to be slowly lifting and they look a little confused. Plopping her bag down and kicking off her shoes Cirice perches on one of the two beds with an eager look in her eye, anxious for Cyran's approval as she offers him the coin purse from the merchants. "How did I do? I was trying really hard to be a good adventurer. I hope I didn't mess up too much..."

---

1 Fade from memory (she erased their memory of her cursing them)
2 Be jolly [2 of 2]