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Things were happening fast, almost too fast. Arms crossed as the dragonborn leaned back in a chair, raven familiar perched on the chair back. It wasn't just that the party was on their way to Moonsteppe. That was a major part of it, but there were other things happening. Magpie rose and moved to the window, looking out at the clouds.

Somewhere down there lay the province of Amatta. Strange that such a place existed here in the realm of Exsilium. A plane that seemingly existed for the lost and exiled, strangely a fitting place for Magpie to find themselves. The lost seeing the lost.

Loathe as one was to admit, there had been a nervous twinge back at the Silken Embrace when the plan was laid out before the others. A part was afraid that the others would simply offer a goodbye when presented with the ultimatum. Come to the Moonsteppe or say goodbye to the dragonborn. It had been surprising that, not only did they want to come along, but that Jynx was more than eager to help with the task of replicating their airship tickets. Admittedly, Magpie could have done a better job, but knowing that the others were supporting and willing to come along? Might have added a slight shake to their hands. Was grateful that the tabaxi had helped cover the errors.

Tail swayed slowly as Magpie peered out the window, not a stitch of clothing on at the moment. Grig was off somewhere, perhaps with the others, perhaps getting food. The bear was a guest in the room after the incident with Cavalay. Which was beyond curious. What had driven that lady into a murderous state? They had pulled from The Deck, but would that have sent an innocent into a blind rage? And why her specifically? Perhaps some trickster magic taking advantage of a golden opportunity of having one of Narzire's crew here?

Narzire. That name still left a foul taste. Given the opportunity, Magpie would repay Narzire for what was done to Martigan. Ten years ago, that had been the talk of every seedy tavern. Stories of the kenku and dragonborn that had double-crossed Narzire and his Firebrands. Always complimented with a grisly description of what had been done to the kenku. Magpie knew that Martigan wouldn't have gone down without a fight. For him to wind up killed and literally pinned to a city wall as warning to others? Narzire must have wound up rather badly wounded himself. Which was a curious thing since the Narzire they'd met with had been unmarked. Granted, a skilled cleric and a lot of money could help there but it still bothered.

Speaking of meeting with Narzire, there was another matter at hand. Cavalay being on the same airship was odd quirk of fate.

"Fate," Magpie snorted at the window. Ask them about fate a year ago and the answer would have been decisive. While Magpie knew very well that gods existed, fate was something they'd always scoffed at. The idea that somewhere out there was some unknowable force that determined what would happen in one's life? Laughable.

And yet here they were. On their way to the Moonsteppe while plotting to face down the creature of nightmares. Why? Because of a quirk of fate? It seemed strange, hilarious even, when laid out. Magpie glanced over a shoulder at the room's table and the two items laying on the scarred wood. An ornate weapon. Not unlike a hand crossbow, but entirely alien at the same time. A heavy signet ring. Silver, carved by a master craftsman to bear the crest of Amatta. Strange how two items needed to prove that ne was the ruler of a country had fallen into their possession through luck.

The Conduit had came to Magpie by drawing a card from That Deck. Martigan claimed the ring had been won in a card game, but then again Martigan claimed many things over the years. If the kenku was talking, it was likely that he was lying. He'd raised Magpie with the same virtue. Always tell the truth when it helped your lie.

Without thinking, a thumb began to rub over the finger where the ring usually resided. How much of what Martigan said had been the truth? Ten years ago, Magpie had parted ways with Martigan, promising to meet their adopted father months later. The temptation to take most of what the daft bird owned had been there, but only the ring had found its way into their possession.

Magpie kicked themselves for that so many times. While the cover of Graf had worked wonders, it took weeks to build it. New clothes, travel expenses, inns, food, it ate through the scant funds faster than expected. Especially when clothes befitting a noble had to be purchased and scribes needed to be bribed. Could have grabbed the Graveminder, a magical weapon would have fetched a pretty penny.

No. They never could have done such a thing. It was Martigan's most prized possession. A gift to the kenku from Magpie's mother. It was as precious to his adopted father as the scant memories of Mother was to Magpie.

Shaking a dark head, Magpie turned to the room and breathed out a sigh. No time to reminisce at the moment. There was a job that needed to be taken care of, one that couldn't involve the others. If they knew what Magpie was planning then they would want to interfere somehow. Stop it perhaps. Overthink it more likely. There was that nervous twinge again. For the last decade, Magpie had been hiding behind the mask of Graffion DeLuc. Drifting from one noble home to another under the guise of a foreign noble. Well bred, charming, with a handful of magics that any noble would be proud to know. The last few months had been stressful and enlightening in more ways than one.

It was time to stop running and make a stand.

Before coming here, it had worked to their advantage for so long that Amatta months away from anything resembling civilization. It was more likely to have a brick of gold drop into Magpie's lap than they was to run into someone that had actually been there.

And yet... eyes roamed to the Conduit of Kings. Draw a card from that daft Deck and the Crown Jewel of Amatta had literally fallen into Magpie's hand. Fate or some slow-burn of a joke by the trickster god? Ask a gods-fearing man what it meant and he'd have announced what it meant with a bloated ego. Magpie was slower to work. Thinking over thing and planning as much as possible. A good con had to be planned out, everything laid bare and practiced. Roles becoming second nature until it was impossible to tell that the kid raised by a strange little kenku wasn't of noble birth.

Or a historical scholar.

Magpie lifted a hand and called on that well of power that swirled about his core. The frost-like markings on their idea growing colder. Icy power flowing from their fingers to twine about the air, twisting into a cocoon. In the blink of an eye, an exact copy of the dragonborn stood in the room. Staring ahead with blank eyes. Magpie took a moment to look over their own body. Circling the illusion slowly and inspecting every inch.

A thought made the form shift, calling upon memory from weeks ago. A disguise hastily donned. Dark cloak draped over shoulders, tail tucked underneath, hide tinted a coppery color, and a name grabbed at in an instant. "Juno," Magpie's head bowed in a slight greeting, "You are a mess. Why don't we fix that?"

Stepping in, Magpie ran their hands over the illusion. Stripping away the cloak and clothes. It had been an incredibly simple matter to get several outfits. Not just for Graf, but for 'some lady friends' as well. There was one outfit that would work well with Juno. Calling up the memory of the clothing had them drop onto the illusion. Roaming around the figure, little details were pulled and tweaked. It'd take a whisper of magic to hide the tail. Far better than tucking it under a robe and introducing that unsightly bulge. Wouldn't stand up to intense scrutiny, but the neckline of the gown would draw attention away from the rear.

Makeup would replace magic for the scale tinting. Just a matter of when and where to use it for best effect. Perhaps some highlights here? A bit of shadow there? There were prosthetics to alter the shape of the frill, as well as fake jewelry, but it was surprising just what one could do with makeup alone. Magic would be needed to color the tongue and gums though. Magpie's icy blue tongue was a bit of a giveaway. Dye could work, but it tasted horrible.

In a matter of minutes, there was a far better version of Juno standing in the room. A coy little smile on her lips, eyes sparkling at the promise of something scandalous, the barest cant to her hips completing the picture. "What do you think, Qistling?" the raven, having been silent this entire time, trilled a croak. "Yes she is looking far better isn't she."

Sadly, spells were a finite thing. Magpie could already feel the threads of power starting to fray. A moment more and it'd have to be cast again. Which was a bit of a waste when there were readily available mundane methods to remember Juno. Magpie had come up with the perfect thing years ago.

Digging into a satchel, Magpie fished out a simple metal case. It was entirely innocent enough inside and out. Trays, sectioned off into various powders and dyes to make a comprehensive makeup kit. "I have to look my best," Graf would say if anyone inspected it, using that charm of his. Under the trays was an ill-fitting false bottom. Hiding a book, resting in a velvet lining. Of course more of the kit was hiding under that velvet, but no one looked beyond the book.

Graf's little black book, "A gentleman never divulges," he'd say with a wink.

As it turned out, drawing was a rather acceptable past time for nobility. Graffion idled away many afternoons by sketching the countryside or whomever he was entertaining at the time. While Magpie was no master, there was certainly enough skill to sketch out a quick charcoal drawing of Juno. A light use of dye tinting the paper, adding to the work. Juno would get a whole page, as did some other fake identities. A book of conquests hiding so much more.

Magpie allowed themselves a moment to leaf through the book. There were his party members, sharing a page. Various nobility from the last decades getting a page here, half one there. Asher had earned a full two page spread, but then again he was a demi-god. Any less would be an insult. Even if they were on less-than stellar terms currently. That was on the list of things to rectify. In time though, there were more important things at the moment.

Kicking back, Magpie roughed in the sketch of Juno, a smile easing into place. What would Grig say if he came in right now? The poor bear strolling in to find a naked Magpie sketching another dragonborn. "Come on in, Grig," he said to no one, waving a hand.

A twist of magic made Juno lick her lips slowly, "There's room for another." Magpie's lips twitched into a frown. Juno's voice was wrong. The illusion repeating the motion and phrase a few times, voice slightly different each time. Add in a touch of Rajan's mother, a hint of that sweet, coarse-voiced lizard girl from a tavern years ago. Letting the image move and repeat, Magpie stood and followed, letting the movement become memory. Matching the tone and style of voice. Learning to mimic his own creation.

Qistling offered a croak, wings flaring as the raven swept them around. "More like this?" Magpie tried to follow. Feathers ruffling before the motion was repeated a few more times to an approving caw.

The spell broke, Juno disappearing in a swirl of frost. Magpie strolled back to the table and added a quick sketch or two to the Juno image. Things that looked as if they were remembered from the heat of the moment. Her crawling on a bed, looking seductive. Laying among the jostled covers with the hint of a weary smile. All innocent enough despite their risque origin. The temptation to sketch her atop a unicorn was quickly discarded though. No need to annoy one of the handful of people he could trust.

Putting the book aside, Magpie grabbed the dyes and sponges before getting to work. Using a tidbit of magic, Magpie brought several lights to life and set them hovering about the table. The lid was a piece of metal polished to a mirror finish, letting the dragonborn watch as makeup was applied. First, a test to an area that wouldn't be seen. Qistling hopping over to peck at a jar, "A bit more brown?" Another mix and test, "No... some red?" Harsh croak and a peck at Magpie's fingers. "Green? Really?" Frowning, the sample was tested, "Well, it does look better." The raven familiar ruffled proudly and watched Magpie work. Quickly covering dark scales and telltale frost-like markings. Now this would be a bit harder to explain if Grig came in. Best to hurry rather than risk having to explain his plan.

The act of transforming from Magpie to Juno took time. It was nothing that could, or should, be rushed. A whisper of magic helping the makeup dry and set. Juno checked over herself in the mirror. She stretched with a quiet sigh and stood, drawing the gown out of the satchel. It felt odd to put on clothing without having the bindings in place. It almost took her longer to get things situated than it did to apply the makeup. Or at least that's what it felt like. It had been years since she'd tried to be sexy and a female at the same time. Although it did change the way she held herself. Those restrictive bindings kept Graf's back straight, shoulders back, and kept him from swinging his arms too much. Without them? Juno felt freer. Each step flowing smoothly into the next. She took a few laps around the room before feeling herself falling into Graf's familiar gait.

Something had to be done. It was an easy enough solution. Just a bit of loose wood placed into the left shoe. The piece finding its way between the arch of her foot and the materials of her specially shaped shoes. It wasn't much, but it would introduce a small change to the way Juno would walk. What caused it? Maybe an injury as a child that wasn't healed properly? Who knew, could come up with something later.

Juno stood again and tried another lap around the room. As expected, a bit of wood in the shoe did change how she moved. Not a noticeable limp, but the slightest hitch in her step that made her hips sway. It felt good, falling into a new character and doing so properly. She made a final lap before turning, "Hello."

"My name is Juno, I hope I'm not bothering you too much," she asked with gentle smile. "I just had to come and see the lady who is the talk of the entire airship." A little sigh, not a huff, but more sympathetic, "Just a shame it wasn't under more scandalous conditions."

Cavalay gave a sad smile and laugh, "If only. No, I've sworn off wine for a while after what happened. For a while at least." A slight shiver rolled through the lizardess. She looked over the stranger slowly, "I'm sorry, but do I know you? I don't believe I remember your face if we have."

Juno laughed softly, "Oh no, we haven't met before. May I?" waving towards one of the only seats in the room. Cavalay nodded, so Juno sank down with every ounce of grace offered her. "I have met your employer before. Rather dashing man if I do say so." A sly smile crossed her features as she looked over the lizard, "Certain that I don't have to tell you that. Sure he's approached you before, he is a man after all." Cavalay's cheeks colored and she mumbled something. Juno held up an understanding hand. "Ladies don't have to speak of it," she winked, "Although, I do have a small favor to ask if I may. One lady to another."

Cavalay straightened slowly, "Well, I don't know what favors I could offer."

Juno waved her hand, "A simple one. I'm certain this matter will be cleared up rather quickly once we land. I was just wondering," she bit her bottom lip for a moment, "Well, it's rather unseemly, but I was wondering if perhaps you could pass on a letter to Mr. Narzire." From a pocket, she drew a note with a simple wax seal on one side and his name on the other. "I have been meaning to get in touch with him again, but my business keeps me abroad so often, and his," she waved her hand. "You know how these things can be." Features softened, "I do hate asking you this after all this excitement."

"No, no." Cavalay held her hand out, "It's quite alright. I do know how these things can be." Juno handed it over without hesitation. Tracing the letter back to her using magic should be impossible. She'd gone to the bar earlier and borrowed a letter kit from the staff. Using the opportunity to test out the disguise while drafting a quick note.

"Dear CB," it started. Using a handwriting script that was similar to the Baroness' from so long ago. One that was only half-remembered, which only added that much to the authenticity of it. "I have heard rumors that you are looking for me. I have business in the Moonsteppe for a while. Perhaps we could meet there and discuss our mutual acquaintances? In two weeks time there will be a letter at the Crescent Shine's front desk, addressed to Narzire. It will have where I'm staying there. Don't keep a lady waiting, Juno." All entirely innocent if someone were to take a peek at it. For Narzire though? Oh it would possibly drive him up a wall to be taunted like this. First, she shows up out of nowhere, listing off Martigan's alias from years ago, and now here she was sending him a letter, which referred to a coded letter stolen from his home? Juno felt a rush at being this close to the enemy, something Graffion had avoided.

Juno kept the joy off her face, only offering a sweet smile in return. "Thank you so much for this." A quiet sigh slipped out as she looked around the room, "I just wish that perhaps we'd met under better conditions. I do hate asking this after all the excitement you've been through."

"Please, it'll be nice to do something normal once all is said and done." She let out a quiet sigh and put the letter beside her on the bed, "I still can't believe I tried to kill someone."

A quiet sigh slipped out, "From what I hear," Juno looked around quickly and leaned in. "Some people have been talking about there being magic involved in the whole ordeal. Which I'm sure you know can only complicate things." Sitting back, "But you didn't hear it from me, it's all just rumors." Quick glance to the door, "Hate to ask favors and leave, but they only allow so much time here. Might be afraid I'm trying to break you out otherwise."

Quick goodbyes and a little while later, Juno was back at the room. A sigh slipping out as the gown came off. Quickly folded and stowed away. A curious croak came from the raven, "Everything went well enough. It didn't seem that anyone noticed anything odd about Juno." Magpie glanced down at the dyed areas, "I didn't get too near the others though. If any of them saw through the guise, at the very least they'd be wondering what I was up to." Eyes narrowed as Magpie lifted their arms and unleashed another whisper of magic. Simple little spell that was one of their favorites. The dye lifting cleanly from scaled hide and wafting away into the air. Just had to make sure not to breathe it in. Magical or not, the powdered dye often set them into a coughing fit.

Cleaned and divested of any persona, Magpie sank back into a chair with a heavy sigh. Qistling hopped across the table before dropping onto a thigh with a croak. "Can't believe you didn't want to be a noble hawk." Reaching down, Magpie used the very tips of his nails to scratch the familiar's head. "I mean, a teacup Kenku, who ever heard of one of those?"

The scratching slowed for a moment. "What do you think of the concept of fate?" A curious trill. "Well..." a sigh heaved from the dragonborn, "Ten years ago I got this ring from Martigan. He claimed that he won it in a card game, but he made a lot of wild claims."

Qistling ruffled and stretched out, croaking, "Magpie," in a haunting familiar voice.

"Should have kept you as a bat," Magpie frowned down at the too-smug looking bird. "Would have kept you from talking." Qistling, a creature he'd only known for a matter of months. Summoned through some spells he'd happened upon at one of their ally's place. He had a book of these useful, if time-consuming, spells. Calling up Qistling had been a time-consuming effort, but it was nice. If only because the creature provided him with someone whose loyalty was without question, someone who his very being was connected to. They'd spent countless hours, speaking in silence through their bond. While he could speak, the fae seemed to enjoy deceiving people in the same way that Magpie did. It was a game, and a fun one at that. "No, Martigan was someone my mother trusted to care for me. More an uncle, really." That smacked of a lie. "He made it clear that he didn't know who my real father was. Barely even remember my mother."

Throat tightened as memory resurfaced. Magpie lunged to his feet, Qistling squawking in protest as he was dumped to the floor. Uttering some very rude noises before lighting on the back of a chair.

Magpie shook as power surged and rolled within their core, threatening to break free unless allowed to be free. The now-familiar shape of a spell spiraling within. Rather than tamp it down and wrestle control back, Magpie extended both arms and let it explode outwards. Watching as they wove themselves into a tapestry. While it was the same spell used to create the Juno-image, it was being handled differently. Arms shook as the scene took shape.

The room grew cold as the illusion took shape. It had been a hard winter, snows several feet deep. Roads thankfully kept clean by a dutiful guard force. What was going on? All he recalled was being pulled from the warm inn bed and hurried off. Nose pressing into his mother's cloak to breath her scent. That comforting perfume, blend of exotic fruits and flowers that always put him at ease. Not this time though, he knew that something bad was happening. Why were they running? It was only his mother's presence that kept him quiet as they hurried through the streets. Something made them stop, cloak falling back as she twisted. They were in an alleyway, the city's wall mere feet away.

"Martigan," his mother's voice trembled with worry. The silver dragonborn turned, her hood falling back to reveal her features. "Take my Magpie and keep them safe."

Martigan began to protest as the child was shoved into his arms, _"_No argument now." She flashed a smile, but there was sadness in her eyes. "Go, run. It'll be okay." Gloved hands fell to Magpie's cheeks, lifting their face to gaze into hers. "Mommy loves you." She would plant a gentle kiss before turning. Cloak billowing in the wind as ice began to swirl about her. "Martigan," she said as she began to stalk towards the unseen danger, "You're not running." The air grew cold, even for winter, as raw power swirled about her.

Magpie froze the spell with a waved hand. It was obvious how the memory played out. Martigan fled with the toddler in his arms, carrying when he could, Magpie perched on the kenku's back. They ran through the snow-covered countryside, stopping at some inn perched in the middle of nowhere. Martigan had dropped a sizable amount of coin on a table, asking the innkeeper to watch over Magpie for a couple days. Then he was gone, returning several days later. It was probably the only time he'd seen genuine sorrow on the bird's face. He knew that his mother died that night, felt it to his very core. He'd asked Martigan about it so many times, but the old bird only responded that it was an old enemy of theirs and that she made sure they'd never show up again.

That was old news though. Magpie focused on his mother in the memory-shaped illusion. She'd always towered over him, but then again he was only a couple years old when he saw her last. There were vague memories of her standing alongside Martigan, which meant... He began to reshape the illusion as he had earlier. Discarding the alleyway and chill. Knowing how tall the kenku was helped him figure out his mother's height. It was a matter of seconds before she stood before him. Silvered hide almost glowing in the room's light. Traces of frost curling about her even in the frozen image. He was a touch taller than her, but even the illusion had an air about her that made it feel as if she were towering over him.

"Who were you?" it was hopeless questioning the image, but voicing the question helped somehow. "I asked Martigan about you so many times, all he ever told me was that you used to be adventurers together. Never even told me your name. And when I'd ask him about my father?" he breathed out a quiet snort, "All the old bird knew was that it was a black dragonborn." Arms stretched towards her to show off his dark hide, "As if that isn't obvious." They dropped limply as he stared at the image. "There's so many questions I need to ask. So may things I want to tell you, that I want to hear..."

Hands, warm against chilled skin, brushed his cheek. "I love you," She leaned in, almost touching her forehead to his, "My Magpie."

The door burst open, "Hey, Graf..." Grig froze mid-way through the door. The bear blinking as light burst from in front of the dragonborn. Might be mistaken, but he was certain that he'd seen someone else there a second ago. "Not... interrupting anything am I?" the tone was cautious as he averted his eyes, realizing that his companion was utterly naked. "Going to catch a cold like that, especially where we're going."

Magpie had turned to face the window again, quietly wiping at the corners of his eye with a thumb. "The cold's never bothered me." A quick glance at the cleric did bring a slight smile. "You might want to hand me my robe though, unless you want to walk about with your eyes covered."

"Right right."