14193/The land of the Picts

The land of the Picts
Date of Scene:	14 March 2022
Location:	Loch Ness area, drumnadrochit
Synopsis:	A trip to Loch Ness and a hike to the Ogham stones of the Pictish kingdoms, came with a surprise.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

---

Sinister has posed:
First night in a new place, always interesting times. New experiences last night lead to a morning where the world is clear and keen and the tang of fresh air fills the lungs, along with the scent of kippers and proper scottish porridge oats. And good tea. There's always good tea.

But the best tea to be had is probably the kind put in a to-go thermos, bought at the tourist trap that is the Nessie centre in Drumnadrochit, from which an adventure in hiking into the hills can commence. There's even a little touristy map of hiking trails from a stand that shows all manner of other things one can do in the area, including going for a walk to the falls of one of the rivers that feeds into the loch. And kelpie hunting. And touristy boat trips onto the loch itself.

But as noted, Lucifer isn't dressed for walking about in Scotland, so at least one 'Go on, go get something you can actually hike in, from the Penthouse' was had, as the sun slips up the sky, proclaiming it's arriving at nine o'clock, whether you like it or not.

Lucifer has posed:
Kippers and porridge oats for breakfast with a lovely tea is a wonderful thing to have in the morning. Surely makes up for all the calories that were burned last night - statistically speaking. Lucifer is back to looking like his normal human self which will serve him good since they're going to be out and about today. Though Nathaniel begins to fuss at him to go pick up something from the Penthouse that he can easily walk around in and not stick out like a sore thumb.

There's a couple faces made, but the man doesn't argue. He does disappear for a good half an hour only to come back and throws four outfits onto the bed. All of them have jeans of varying wash types from dark to mid. He's got two tee shirts, one polo shirt, and a couple of vestments. "...I need help."

Sinister has posed:
"How..." Sinister just laughs softly. "Sartorial indecision. What kind of impression are you wanting to make? And did you bring hiking boots or good DM's? If not, I can make some." So now it's to examine what was brought. "Polo, it's cool out there. T-shirt underneath, because I know you don't like the cold... I think the darker jeans will show less mud, if we end up that way." He stares at the wall for a moment. "Because we can just walk on air -over- muddy ... honestly, sometimes..." he gives himself a little heel-of-the-hand slap to the forehead.

A moment is given to eye Lucifer, before his biker jacket is offered as a warm outer layer, working to clad himself in a grey jumper and a longer black leather mod jacket and Bovvah boots. His own jeans are black. "That work?"

Lucifer has posed:
"You said I should wear certain items so I don't stand out and am comfortable on a hike. Though I then wondered why bother when I can do a tee shirt and jeans, but then I didn't know if that was maybe TOO casual or something so I started thinking about what I could wear with the tee shirt and jeans." Lucifer stops himself mid explanation and then looks to Nathaniel with humor in his eyes. "You've turned me into a fashion mess! Whatever will I dooooo???" Lamenting playfully before he looks over himself and then eyes the jacket Nathaniel offers him. "Also, if we're going to be walking around, that'll keep me warm enough. It's not that cold out there right now is it?"

Sinister has posed:
"About nine degrees celcius, but there's the potential of a windchill factor taking it down to chilly," But Nathaniel's grinning, as he considers the indecisive archangel of the moment. "I simply meant wearing something that an average person might wear, but you are ineffably you, so a vest isn't out of the question. Nor is adding your own style to street clothes. I just.. like..." he gestures at himself, stylish, but monochromatic. "There's a few standing stones up in the highlands here, which might also be worth a visit. We're where the ancient pict kings used to rule."

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah. So a jacket will be needed then, cause that is a bit more cold than I would like it..." Lucifer says this and then looks over everything once again. He picks up a tee shirt that reads 'Kill Them All, Let God Sort Them Out' and smirks. "Yes. This then. With the vestment and the jacket. I can always shed layers as needed." Then he's changing into dark denim jeans, tee shirt, vestment and jacket. Tugging things so that they are perfectly in place, he looks himself over and then sort of presents himself to Nathaniel. "What do you think?" Also, "Oh right. Boots." He frowns. "I don't think I own hiking boots..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister stoops then, placing his hands on both Lucifer's besocked feet. A moment of concentration has those hands going black and pouring the surface of his skin in a casing around and beneath the sock, until both feet are enclosed in essentially highly polished sixteen hole Doc Martens, with a comfortable thick sole of Air-walk technology. And even better, they don't need to be worn in. Clothing a'la Sinister, is always interesting to feel. He stands, flexing his fingers returne to normal skin tone and looks over the whole of the thing. "I approve. You look street savvy and debonaire, but you don't look like you're rocking Armani in the middle of rural Scotland. You'll turn heads, my dear." He gestures to the world outside. "Shall we?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer grins and then nods. "Well, I am glad you approve and these shoes feel amazing." Offering this as he looks himself over one last time. "Ha. Turning heads is something I do best, though I think I will feel better about turning them even while dressed down. Rather than turn them because I am dressed up." That much more as Nathaniel gestures and he inclines his head. "Yes. Yes we shall. Where will we go first then?" Asking this as he begins to head outside, actually using a door this time!

Sinister has posed:
It is brisk outside but the little village still has a number of tourists on its streets even in March. It's pretty much one long street that winds around a dip in the road, sports some smaller roads that head up to camp grounds and even has a highschool. But the trails are further in and off the beaten track where brown 'national trust' kinds of signs put directions and information together to guide individuals.

Also when one of you is six three and one is six five, you stand out. People look and indeed, heads are turned, smiles are offered, because that's part of the nature of looking at something good. Sinister even looks like a younger man in his twenties, something in the fresher face, the devil-may-care that he might have borrowed and the pair of gold earrings hoops in one lobe. But the icing on the cake is probably one young backpacker and her sister or friend, who walk into a lampost whilst watching.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is drinking in the attention, and doesn't even mind the slight bite of brisk in the air as they begin to walk. The smaller trails to campgrounds and the highschool are regarded but only just as they keep walking to make it to the actual hiking trails where they plan on taking to get...somewhere. A river? The mouth of the loch? Somewhere so they can go hunting for the lochness monster? Who knows!

He even drinks in the stares, the little flares of lust and desire that people put off when spying on them. It's when two ladies literally walk into a lampost while watching them that he pauses and turns towards them. He wouldn't really be the Devil if he didn't take advantage of this lingering moment, walking over to the ladies and offers his hands so they can both have some help up. "Are you ladies alright? Ought be careful where you're walking...or perhaps looking." Then he grins.

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, aye, uh, yeah, nae both'r," The one girl who just kind of went down with her friend, blushing profusely and adjusting her glasses. Sixteen, maybe seventeen years old? Mop of curly blondy gingerish hair, practical anorak wearing brigade for the wonders of hiking in Inverness area. Rain can literally sneak up on you up here, which apparently is a thing for them to watch out for.

Her friend seems to have just lost all ability to do more than just grin like an idiot, giggling nervously. She's a brunette, no glasses, but struggling through those years where zits just won't leave you alone.

Girl 1: "Yuir raight bonnie, tho. T'was worth the look frae behind."

GIrl 2: **GASP** Slap slap slap at her friend's arm, with more embarassed giggles.

Sinister paused, sauntered back and is merely standing hipshod, looking like he's one step short of out and out grinning, clucks his tongue and shakes his head, thoroughly amused.

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah, right. Ye're both a couple'a right bonnie lassies yerselves." Lucifer offers in the best Scottish brogue he can muster. "Nae-ow, off ye go on 'bout yer day.. an' ya can keep dem mem'ries o'me backside in yer minds for s'long as ya want." Then he grins, kisses knuckles, and turns to return to Sinister's side. Though he has to smile at that very near grin the man wears. "What's gotten into you?"

Sinister has posed:
There's a gesture. "You. Prince Charming with your halo balanced nicely on your horns," he chuckles, shaking his head. "Nice memory they'll have though and a story to tell over a pint later." And indeed, one of the girls has her camera phone up and snaps a picture for the sake of posterity. Sinister waves at them, which makes at least the non-verbal one run around the corner.

"You're glowing by the by. I think this fresh air and walking incognito thing suits you." He turns about though, heading toward the rough trail that leads up into higher trails. "You don't suffer fatigue easily do you? Physiologically speaking that is."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer just grins and then shakes his head a little. "Yeah. It'll be a nice one indeed. And now that they have photo evidence, no one will be able to refute that.." Though watching the non-verbal one take off causes him to chuckle a bit and then he motions so they can continue to walk.

"Glowing? Well, heh. Yeah. I guess all this does me a bit of good." This and then that last question and he shakes his head. "No. Not that I've ever experienced anyway. I mean, consider how expansive Hell is..." Wait. "Well that's not a good example cause I can zoom all over it." A shrug then. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Unless you're asking cause you might get tired. We can always rest if you need."

Sinister has posed:
The unpaved trails are quite lovely. Moss-covered rocks and occasionally, a beck that trickles over the pathway, cleaning sand and mud away to leave crystal clear water over well-polished stones. Here and there, because this is Scotland and not New York State, narcissae can be seen in the hedgerow, in amidst the heather, particularly where there's abundant water. Birds twitter and honestly, the view as they climb the low hillocks up into proper highlands is quite spectacular. The loch is covered today in a loose mist, patches of it clinging and elsewhere nothing but a diaphonous breath upon the water.

"Oh, it takes literally days for me to get fatigued. I can carry on going at full tilt for many hours at a time, without toxins building up. A legacy of Thunderbird and the gene splicing I conducted on myself using his DNA. Remember, I highlighted how the transfusion you gave me isn't the first time my physiology has significantly altered? There are bone markers on my body that are at least partly native american and I never had a single ancestor from these lands."

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah. Well that's good to know. That you and I can essentially keep up with each other." Lucifer says this as they continue walking. He takes moments to pause here and there. Listen to the birds, or the babbling water, take a moment to enjoy the scents and sounds. He even diverges off the path to walk over to where the water runs over rocks and such to clean itself and drinks a few handfuls. "Oh my. That's delicious... I do wonder if people drinking from these waters is how a fountain somewhere in the world got coined the Fountain of Youth." He offers this and then smirks. "Well, at least no one will really question your heritage anytime soon unless you try to claim things you're not really entitled to."

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, my word, can you imagine me attempting to get indigenous status? That would be one of those situations which would be a long stretch of surreal coincidences to achieve..." Paused with his hands in the pockets of his mod jacket, Sin watches the sampling of the beck with a smile. "I imagine that's why every single spring of worth was associated with a spirit that eventually became a saint of some kind, when christianity became a totalitarian homogenizing blanket. And why wells and springs of that nature are fought over, guarded and ascribed such properties beyond just quenching thirst. Highland springs are particularly crisp, I've found. I think the aquifer is particularly high." Gesturing to the loch down below. "Geography plays a pretty epic part in that too, when you have a lot of igneus substrate beneath your feet. Water has nowhere to go but out and it does so so delightfully."

Well, that was wordy!

"ANd was there any doubt that I can keep up with you?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Right. Cause they likely wouldn't just go off the whole excuse of, 'well I have it in my bones'..." Lucifer offers with a chuckle before listening to Nathaniel's long ramble of information concerning brooks, becks, fountains and geography. A glance it given to the mist-covered Loch before looking back at him. "It tastes like it. Still nice and cool. Crisp and fresh. Honestly... it's probably the cleanest water I've ever had that wasn't in my little mind garden or something.." He chuckles. Final questions are final and he shakes his head. "No. Especially after last night. I've got no doubt that you can keep up with me."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister can but chuckle at that. "C'mon you," reaching out his hand to his partner, he braces to help him stand from the beck, for no real reason other than the desire to be chivalrous, then inhales deep of the air. Looking up the hillside, down it a ways and across the loch below, determining that there are no nearby hikers in sight, he flexes shoulders and pops the wings, leaping from the hillside just to soar in this very unique countryside, sheltered from prying eyes by the banks of the river moriston -- it's a short river, but it has spectacular falls and the waters are cool as snowmelt and clear, clean also. Old growth trees line each side of the gorge, before the river flattens and broadens out higher up in the highlands. But sometimes just flying... is special.

He lands in fact, on another hike trail that heads up the steeper escarpments to the moors above, where signage suggests an ogham stone resides. And when he lands, he does so at a jog, under no illusions that the devil can keep up.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer accepts the hand of chivalry, and even gives a faint smile as he does. Moving along with Sinister before watching as the man sprouts his wings and takes to the skies. He's following suit in no time at all, lifting upwards to soar with him, doing a few glides through the air just because they can without worry of being seen. The river they fly over gains Lucifer's attention for a moment before he continues to follow the flight path, rolling and spinning as they go. Then they're landing and he surely does keep up with Sinister, seeing the sign about the ogham stone - figuring that's where they're heading. "Oh that was... that was freeing. I enjoyed that." A pause. "You're getting better at controlling your wings."

Sinister has posed:
"They were itching, so I suspect that's more that I'm getting better at giving into them at appropriate moments," Sin replies with a wry turn of the lips, "I enjoyed it too, there's something about the landscape of scotland that really can take you to an older time. The mountains and glens are still what they are, but the whole of them seems like they've weathered millenia and gotten... squished down by the sky, don't you think?" He glances behind himself as if he could look at his own back and returns eyes to Lucifer. "But I thank you for the vote of confidence. It's helped since the interloper imprisoned in my head taught me how to tell them to go away, in enochian. They're a part of me, a part of the shape of me, but I'm still not entirely convinced that they're of the opinion that I'm the boss of them. The amount of times I've had to fight the urge not to flare them at someone, or launch them out to buffet someone back like a great whiffly boxing of ears..."

THe stone can be seen from afar, it sits above the glen in the shadow of trees. Beech and mountain ash, mostly, with a few oaks, all of which have the promise of spring in their buds; black as soot and lady greensleeves both.

Lucifer has posed:
"It's nice when you can let them out when they want to be let out. Sometimes you also have to fight the itch. I mean, it's fine most places I guess... but somewhere like this. I would definitely be careful and making sure that we're not going to be scaring anyone.." Lucifer offers. "You know, I'd love to fly up into the skies when the sun is a bit higher, on a slightly windy day... and just watch the hills 'roll'." He uses finger quotes on the word 'roll'. "Isn't that the term they use? When the wind is just right it moves the grasses in a certain way the hills look like they're moving?"

He glances to the rock on top of the glen in the shadow of trees and smiles. "So, what's the story of this rock. Do you know?"

Sinister has posed:
"I would like that. Maybe if it's raining down here, the wind will be sufficient to make the hills roll more than they already seem to do." Sinister nods in agreement, pauses, then chuckles softly. "The feathers are more likel to get people to hurry to church."

"Well, the picts used them as boundary markers between fifedoms, but also as teaching devices. Unlike in england where they were just placemarkers, the scottish picts carved thier language into the stones. For the longest time, it was a bit like the ancient heiroglyphs, in that nobody quite knew what they were saying." Coming to a stop after a hip and a hop to get up there, it can be seen that it's covered in what almost looks like tithe marks or a bastardization of norse runes. "Until someone found a set carved on oak, with latin enscription, telling the story of Damborough and the vanishing of the picts."

Running a hand down the stone, he smiles at it. "Picts are all but gone, but you can still see them in some of their descendents. Short and stocky, most often with fair or sandy brown hair. There's a reasonable amount of them in the scots. I suppose, rather like the fact that there's a little bit of neanderthal in all modern humanity. More in northern and western europe, from the caucus mountains west." He pauses, laughs a little. "Turns out that cromagnon man was a bit of a sickly type. We get our immune system from the neanderthals."

Lucifer has posed:
"...Now you're going to tempt me to walk into a church here. Likely not any one in the villages. At least, not a village we're actively staying in. I'd like to go just to drink in the sins of everyone in the room." Lucifer quips, since he loves reading a room full of sinners, and what better place to find them than in a church's congregation. Following further up to the top of the hill making way to the actual stone itself, leaning in to admire the markings on it. "Do these rocks have keepers? Someone that like... takes care of them? I would suspect that this rock should be covered in moss and such but it's... weathered, but clean." Then he smiles. "Immune systems from neanderthals, huh? That...explains a lot..."

Sinister has posed:
"Doesn't it just? So, next time you see someone with a pronounced brow ridge, you can get a grin out of it," Sinister replies with a wink, leaning in to look over the stone. Hands reach carefully for the ogham carvings, tracing them down vertically. "You know, I don't know. Folklore of Scotland isn't my strongest suit, but I don't think they're tended officially by anyone barring the national trust. All these sites are National trust sites, heritage sites for Britain."

He looks down the bluff a ways, only to get beaned in the back of the head by an acorn. "Hey!" turning about he blinks at Lucifer, then looks beyond, narrowing eyes as the ruby diamond manifests in his forehead.

Lucifer has posed:
"I will have to keep that in mind." Lucifer offers, concerning neanderthals. Then he listens more as Nathaniel admits to not really knowing much about Scotland Folklore and expands that these are National trust sites. "Heritage sites for Britain? Ah, because this whole island is Britain but then further divided into Scotland, England and Wales?" Even he has troubles remembering things like that.

At the sudden exclamation, a brow is raised and he tilts his head. "Ah... issues?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister blinks at Lucifer, then looks about at the ground nearby, until he spies the culprit. Levitating the acorn, he presses his lips thin a moment, then lets it settle on his palm. "As far as I know, Oak trees aren't good at aiming their acorns horizontally. Vertically, sure." He narrows his eyes again, then the acorn pings off his palm into the treeline. "AUGH! Gonnae no dae tha'!! Ye could take a mon's eye raight ootae his head, sure's shite ye could! AIEEEE! LEMMEGO!" a rush of leaves and rustle of branches heralds a telekinetically held small green man being yoinked into view. Upside down. Held by a foot.

Lucifer has posed:
"No. No I think that defies any laws of physics at this point in time..." Lucifer offers this before following Sinister's gaze into the bushes. When he hears that yelling - and the very VERY thick Scottish brogue that comes with it - he tilts his head the other way and just smirks. "You got a foine way of tellin' people off who ya just decided tae interrupt fer no reason. Ya give me one good reason tae not 'ave me partner here hoist ya intae the muck n' mire til ya squeal!" Hands on his hips now. "And then ya can tell us both why ya up and tossed an acorn at 'im too."

Sinister has posed:
The wee green man is tossed up in the air, caught by invisible hands (or one keen mind) so that he's now dangling the right way up, by the scruff of his neck. He looks to be probably two foot tall, maybe two and a half, with a thatch of wild brown hair the colour of bark, witha bushy beard besides. He wears a tamoshanter on his head, that looks to be stained with rust coloured liquid that has long since dried. His nose is large, his hands are also and he carries a shelalagh on his back, made of an oak gourd. There's also a dagger in his boot, and attached to his spog. Those little green eyes are mean looking. "Kenn'd yuir speakin' and pegged ye fer pansy ass Sassenach. Ah wasnae wrong neither, na?" He tries to grab a weapon, but the position he's in and the grip held just isn't going to work for him. "Ah dinnae need no reasonin' tae bean a corn attae fookin' sassenach."

"My word, what colourful language. However, I have a feeling, you're not what you look like." Sinister opines.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer narrows his eyes at the gremlin. For now he's going to consider this being a gremlin. Then he smirks, and his next words come out are perfect Scottish Gaelic. "We aren't sassenachs. Well, the good doctor might be, but I am not. And we're not a threat to you either. So you will calm yourself, or I will make you calm. Understand?" His eyes flash with hellfire as he stares the creature down even as Sinister calls him out for likely not being what he looks like either. A little smirk crosses his lips and he shrugs. In English, "A leprachaun maybe? Lost his pot of gold?" A beat. "No. Wait. Wrong country."

Sinister has posed:
"Yes, definitely wrong..." Fluent scots gaelic? Actually, if Lucifer's power of Babel gears to the language that the individual speaks, it's actually pictish. "...are you...you are. You're speaking its lingo. My goodness. That's ireland, yes." One of those not oft witnessed gifts of the Archangel, is the knowing of all languages. Sinister smiles a little goofily as he's struck with the keeness of it, then looks back at the critter.

The wee folk looks genuinely quite surprised, eyes then going round at the flash of hellfire. "Och na! Tis th'laird o' th'pits!" The fae attempts covering its eyes, making warding signs or some other thing, but the grip makes it very hard for him to move around much. ~My name is Macrae, this is my stone. I'm not a very good guardian of it though, to be caught by an Englishman and the Lord of Hell, himself.~

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods at Nathaniel. "Any spoken language. It's a gift sometimes." He offers this much and then glances back to the critter. When it begins to get all trying to create wards and acting squeamish because he's in front of the 'laird of th'pits' as he so eloquently put it, Lucifer just rolls his eyes. "What, precisely, are you protecting this stone from? Can a person not just come to admire it, look it over, bask in it's existance?" He asks this much and then begins to approach the creature. "We do not mean to do anything to the stone or to the one guarding it. If you'd be so kind to simply let us have our moment, we'll leave just as quietly as we came."

Sinister has posed:
The fairy manages to get himself in a worse fix, as his little jacket pulls up over his head as he struggles in Sinister's kinetic grip, exposing a hairy pot belly for all the world to see. "Useful, that. I usually rely on telepathy to fill in the blanks, mostly as a gist of intent of meaning." Nathaniel offers, looking at the creature. "That's an illusion though, I can..." his diamond flares brighter red "...not quite see what it's actually supposed to be..."

THen with a flurry of spinning like a spinning top, the little fae groans "...m'gonnae chunder..." but it was enough to shake the illusion off. What remains is a small being, very thin, silvery furred on its chest and with long thin arms and legs and large silver eyes. A niskie, if Lucifer is familiar; old guardians of wells and springs, which makes guardianship of a stone rather odd. "I didn't think it was a redcap. Good to know I was right."

The dizzy niskie twitches in the air, then is set down on the leaf litter, rather gently. ~I didn't know if you came to steal. Beings of power always come to steal.~

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer narrows his gaze again and then tilts his head one way and then the other. "Huh. Interesting. You're not what I considered you might be..." He offers this and then looks to the stone, then back to the niskie. "Except we're beings of power and we didn't come to steal. Also, why in the world are you guarding a stone? Did you all run out of wells and springs?" He's actually asking that question with sincere curiosity even if it's worded rather harshly. "Not knowing something means attacking them with acorns in the hopes that they'll just run away. Got it. How far did that get you?"

Sinister has posed:
At the back of his mind, Lucifer might feel the tickle of Sinister's mind latching on, so that the translation circuitry works for him, too. He gestures to the Devil, as an indicator to answer.

The Niskie gives a little irritated frown, then a scratch of its downy chest fur, ears laying back like a cat's. "Well, it has a charm on it to disorient. Usually that works just fine, even on empowered folks. Not on your English friend though..." it looks at Sinister with a little scowl. "...The Stone is just the marker. My spring is hidden. Not many come up this way, so I admit, I'm a bit rusty."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods a little. "Ah. Well that makes sense. I think it's less that you are rusty and more that you didn't realize just who you were dealing with. Since you're still talking to me, I suppose you don't mind that I am - indeed - the lord of Hell. Or...was. I'm pretty much permanent resident earthling now." He then looks to Sinister and smiles, having felt that mental latch which he doesn't mind at all. "Why is your spring hidden? Or is that just a common thing for them to be hidden by something? Would it be at all possible for us to see it?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister tucks his hands into the small of his back, observing the odd and diminutive creature with open curiosity. There was a brief little twitch of the lips in amusement at 'who you were dealing with'.

The Niskie turns its face askance, regarding Lucifer from the corner of one silvery eye. "The power of springs fades, when their guardians are taken, tricked or slain. Or replaced by patron saints and ordinary men. The magic is lost. /That/ is why my spring is hidden, so that this is the Macrae wellspring and not that of Saint Dunstable..." it gnashes its teeth at that, tiny little daggers as they are, like a fish. Its tiny three fingered hand is extended. "A tisket for a tasket. You wish to see, you must make trade or sacrifice."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer frowns a little, glancing to the stone for a moment and then back to the creature. "That's not such a good thing. A spring losing it's magical property." He comments this gently and then looks towards Sinister a moment. "Well, first things are first. As you know my title, I will at least give you my name, which is Lucifer. My companion here is Nathaniel Essex." This is said first before he seems to think on things a little more. "What's considered a decent enough trade or...sacrifice...then? In order to gain the ability to see this spring of yours?"

Sinister has posed:
Macrae considers, then bobs its head to Lucifer. "The name you have is god given. The name I have is tied to the land I was born from. THey're both fitting. As to suitable trade..." it thinks, then sighs "...once upon a time my dearies, they would bring oatcakes laced with honey. Or they would bring dolls made of straw and oakleaves. The poor and the local... lords brought gold and swords. The world turns now and what has value and what takes effort is no longer a truth. It makes gifts more hollow for it." It scratches at its head. "Give what has worth. Not what is easy."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well. That's simple enough I think..." Lucifer offers and then looks left, right, up a ways and back some - making sure there aren't any coming to this spot that would freak out over what is about to happen. Then, with a strain as always, his wings flourish, all white and feathery, glowing even in the shade of the trees from what little sunlight shines through. "You have others of your ilk, yes? Perhaps some place where you all live and flourish together? Or perhaps not... and you are often on your own here.." He curls a single wing forward, braces himself for the moment, and then plucks a feather from his span. Then the wings fold back and he steps forward and offers it over. "This is no ordinary feather. If there is illness, or injury, holding and concentrating on this feather will cure one back to full health. Though it does not work on the dead...it can keep one from crossing over at least one moment too soon. I offer this as trade for myself and my companion to be shown this spring of yours. To behold it's wonder, if but for a moment."

Sinister has posed:
The Niskie looks square on at the flourish of wings, a purr coming from it because even tiny fairies can be awed by shiny things. The feather is taken, considered and nodded over. "This is a fair price. A rare price. A price worth having..." It nods, then beckons the two of them, to follow up the way just a little further. Badger trails and fox burrows make little paths up the outcropping, but it seems to be nothing but more trees and rocky moorland, until the tingle of a very potent barrier can be felt as it is crossed over. On THIS side of it, the magic can be smelled and sensed by the archangel, where but a span of steps back to the stone, it was all but invisible. Niskie magic is subtle, after all -- water fae are illusionists extraordinaire but they also excell at shields.

It's a grotto, another rock of the same basic stone as the standing ogham stone, overhangs a well. A NATURAL well, that runs deep into the earth, its surface black and glistening, for the tunnel below is hidden in the shadow and the bottom cannot be made out. The air SMELLS clean as a whistle, pebbles at the very edge of the grotto are polished and multihued. A low boulder has a natural seat on it, right by the water's edge, likely from centuries of people's bottoms sitting upon it. All manner of wildflowers grow about the pool in abundance, healthy and vibrant.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smiles as Macrae accepts the feather for trade to show off his spring which he has kept hidden. Following along, when they get to the magic barrier, he can already feel it even if he cannot see it very well until they are walking through to the other side. It is here that Lucifer takes a few steps in and then looks around with eyes wide in awe. "Oh my. This is lovely. Absolutely." He takes a deep breath, because he can scent both the magic and the clean that is in this area. Taking steps further, if there is a defined path - he follows it. Careful not to harm any of the flowers or other plant life that grows here. "Oh this is amazing. Everything is so vibrant and fresh..." A glance to Macrae then. "Would it be at all possible to have a taste of the water?"

Sinister has posed:
The fairy nods. "Take a cup and drink your fill." It walks over to one of the daffodils that look down into the water and sits itself there, mirroring the flower's fascination with its own relection. "You will taste and you will know the power of the Macrae wellspring." It smiles, a sweet little expression as it gathers its legs under its fluffy chest fur.

Sinister is looking around at all the wildflowers like he's struck gold. "Some of these wildflowers are extinct outside of here, I would wager..."

Lucifer has posed:
"A true hidden gem. It's a shame that people are assholes and would destroy something like this..." Lucifer offers as he approaches the spring. He takes two cups, filling them both and then turns to offer Sinister one of them. "To the power of the wellspring?" He asks this as if in toast. "Could spend hours just lazing about here, scenting the flowers and the water and just...everything..." Then he takes a sip of the spring water from his cup...

Sinister has posed:
This is what the water of life tastes like.
Intoxicating, burning but clear, setting heat into the belly. Ouisca.
A spring destined perhaps, for Lucifer Morningstar to taste.
Yet it is water, pure and clear and sweet on the tongue.
And it gets you just a little drunk, but with all the clarity in the world.
And brings fire to the limbs and heart.

The Macrae Wellspring was used by distillers to make whiskey once upon a time. War whiskey. Courage in a cup.

And the picts protected it as best they could, though in the end they lost to the Scots. Its writing is a mystery.

Lucifer has posed:
Possible that it might not get Lucifer drunk, but he's definitely enjoying the taste of it on his tongue. He glances back to Nathaniel to see what the man is up to before looking to Macrae. "How long will you allow us to stay here?" Asking this gently before shifting closer to Nathaniel. "It is truly a lovely place. I wish you all the best in keeping it safe and sound for eons to come."

Sinister has posed:
"As long as ye will bide," Macrae informs, then with a smile, transforms from a silvery furred little elf creature, to a silver fish, which with a flip of its tail and a hop, plunges into the well itself.

Sinister is sublimely grinning. "I think, overall, I will call our trip to scotland a rousing success." He informs slowly, but with no slur. "Even hiking in the hills! Ahahahha!"

Lets hope that magical spring water comes with no hangovers!