L
Lilynette sans Giltine
Guest
Corpus ex Machina
The Stem
The Stem
Lilynette finds carriage trips intolerable.
The wooden structure jolts and shakes along the Kingsroad, its pace reduced to a crawl by the early morning commerce hustle and bustle. People from all walks of life scatter across the great road, piecing together a strange puzzle of colorful yet controlled chaos. For any other individual, the great decorated buildings lining their view alone would likely make this worth the trouble.
Not the priestess. In fact,
Fuck this infuriating place.
Falderen, the land of light, of subjects blessed by Tyldr’s luminance. Recent developments have flooded Dunnstads with a great… Influx of people, something that feels nauseating to someone with highly sensitive magical senses like herself. The rather delicate skin tasked with protecting her body becomes her nemesis instead, picking upon a storm of magical signatures all over the place.
This place is cold, hot, nowhere in between, everywhere all the same. They are too far, too close, too many, and invoke a growing sense of disgust at the pit of her stomach.
Today, however, the priestess is here for business. Thanks to the help of a personal contact (@Jin) and his mysterious… ‘user interface,’ she has managed to hire an adventurer for a special request.
The carriage comes to a stop, and Lilynette steps out.
She wears not her cloth of faith. Rather, she wears slick slip-in shoes combined with fine black fabric covering the tender skin of long legs, further protected by a long, high-waisted skirt colored much the same. Her top consists of a black shirt highlighted red in the center, where a vertical line of frills separates east and west—her hair flows light gold, adorned with two crimson-black bows. In summary, it's a choice of [attire] akin to a nobleman's precious daughter.
As she enters the Guild Hall, Lilynette realizes she has been learning an awful lot about travelers. A great many interesting things,
…And many strange ones, too.
She’s an observant woman who often ponders; do they sincerely believe she cannot notice their swift but subtle glances? Her eyebrows furrow in response to the realization that, perhaps, the common object of obsession among some of them is—
The priestess glances downwards.
…
She cannot see her feet.
Why won't they understand she can't do anything about th—grr!
Infuriated, she storms towards the reception where a receptionist greets her with a warm smile, “Welcome to the Guild—”
“Please give me a room.” she taps the black nails of her right hand on the wooden counter incessantly.
“U-uhm, before that, could you state your—”
“I asked for a room.”
“I understand, but could we at least—”
“Just rent me a damned room alread—!!”
The large double doors to one of the VIP waiting rooms close as she unceremoniously plops down on a turquoise settee adorned in gold accents. Lilynette could still feel the disgusting sensation of the horde outside, but at least there are walls between them now. A sigh of relief slips past her lips as she sinks into the comfortable furniture…
She could only hope her hiree isn’t an elf. She often hears they are good at picking up bad humors.
Opening her blues, she at last stops to perceive the room properly. It is lavish and opulent, painted in regal tones. It boasts ornate moldings and large arched windows draped by heavy curtains. The walls are adorned with gold-framed paintings of high-profile Falderen nobility. A large Persian rug sprawls across the room, originating from its center, where another settee awaits, and a small table separates Lilynette and the other party, who has yet to come. It’s a sophisticated room providing luxurious space for refined meetings and negotiations.
A few minutes go by, until finally the large double doors are opened again.
Ah, but lo’ and behold—it’s a fucking elf.

“Good Morning. I’m Lilynette sans Giltine!” folding her hands , she greets the adventurer with a curt bow. “I am eager to discuss insightful business matters with you!” she says, her expressive and mellow blues attempting to establish visual contact with the other party.
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