[Xanth]

As Alistair left the throne room, a tinkle of gay laughter echoed through the exit tunnel. When he turned the corner, he would find himself face to face with a spritely young woman with regal bearing, lilac-blonde curls that bounced cheerily around her hips, and the faintest hint of enormous floor-length wings glimmering in the snowlight. She was a head shorter, but her violet eyes sparked with a power that sizzled throughout the maze and hummed the length of the statue within. Her features were identical to those of both the statue and the holographic avatar.

Xanth touched a fingertip to the mischievous pout flirting across her bow-shaped mouth, her hips swaying as if to music only she could hear. “Leaving so soon, Alistair? Come now, surely you have not come solely for the gifts I may bestow upon you? And why is it my job to correct your sister's personality?”

OOC: This is a random encounter for Alistair continued from Xanth's Grotto 2012.

[Alistair]

The small squeal of surprise which left Alistair's lips when he found himself face to face with the goddess he had once been cynical of, was not the manliest noise he had ever made. His mouth slightly agape, any doubt left his mind as he shifted from one foot to the other nervously. What exactly did one say to a goddess? If he angered her, he might end up as nought more than a steaming pile of ash. She might shoot thunderbolts from her eyes. She might have like, x-ray vision, and be eyeing him up now as they spoke. He hadn't exercised in awhile, and he didn't want her to see the little pot belly he was getting from all of the delicious pastries and cakes he had been gorging himself upon.

The 'Varian took a moment to formulate a response, one which he hoped wasn't rude or forthright. “I guess because, since you're almighty, and good and stuff, surely you get a say in how people turn out? She's pure evil, honestly. Once, she cut off my hair so that I had a French swear word shaved into the back of my head, while I was sleeping.” His hand protectively touched his short, silky hair, pleased it had all grown back alright, and also that she had received a slap from their mother. That had been... brilliant.

He felt he should say something extra, instead of boring the deity. It was like he had permanent word vomit, sometimes. “So, thanks for the gift, it was lovely. I've been good this year, you know, I'm not a bad person. You don't have to smite me. I'm okay.” His voice was a little high-pitched by the end. He didn't want to displease her with his stupidity.

[Xanth]

She had forgotten how amusing it could be when mortals, however long-lived, were confronted with the reality of her existence. Xanth twined a curl around a finger and bounced on her toes, her free hand tucked behind her back. Layers of lilac gossamer, thick and numerous enough to keep her modesty intact, twirled around her legs.

“Relax. I only smite people who annoy me.” That was not entirely true. She was a bit proponent of patience, free will and forgiving, so even those who annoyed her often got away with it. So long as their actions did not harm the worlds she had created or negatively influence what Dazadi liked to call her "bigger picture", Xanth would turn the other cheek no matter how difficult or frustrating. Very few people had actually suffered her wrath directly in the twelve thousand years she had been gone from her homeland, though she supposed that if she were to make her presence felt more as a benevolent god, there should be more of the helfire, too.

Tip-toeing to Alistair's side with exaggerated movements, Xanth slid an arm through his and pressed the length of her body to his. She kept her voice low, but interjected a seriousness that warred with the playfulness. Her wings fluttered slowly, kicking up a draft that dragged snowflakes into the air where the mingled with the purple sparks that floated about her skirts. As she urged him down the tunnel, her presence ensuring that his exit would be clean and snowman-free, she rested her head against his upper arm. “I have a job for you, Mister Beaumont, if you would be so kind?”

[Alistair]

It was hard to know what to make of the situation, Alistair thought as he looked at the goddess in her all of her beauty. He was not known to chase women, and he didn't notice them in general, but Xanth looked very beautiful, and not in a mortal way. Something he had not seen in anyone he had ever met, a sort of feeling that she belonged here in Elysia - probably because she had quite obviously made it - but also at the same time, like she did not. Which was confusing, but at the same time he felt awed. And sort of flattered that she would appear to him, a lowly bounty hunter of questionable morality.

When she touched him, he flinched, out of surprise more than anything. Why would a goddess who had created their beautiful world want to touch one of her lesser creations? Alistair was prideful, and believed to an extent he had some worth, but surely there were more valuable creations of her more better work. He smiled warily, placing his hand gently on her shoulder as if they were old friends. When the request came, he hesitated, not out of disobedience but out of yet more surprise. “Oh, of course, X-Xanth-” it was cool to call her that, right? “In what way could I possibly be of assistance to you?” What would she need him to do that she couldn't do herself? Maybe she was sending him on a penance.

[Xanth]

“Hmm,” Xanth murmured, tilting her gaze toward the labyrinth's ceiling where icicles dripped, as if considering his question. “How indeed.” She even bit her lip and tapped a finger against her chin, then killed the ponderous mood with an impish smile completely out of place on her otherwise serene face.

“You see, Mister Beaumonth, a little birdy has told me many things about you.” No such birdy had done so, but Dazadi had 'scoped out' he and his companions aboard the skyboat upon their return from Acantha. The others were far too concerned with their own affairs and profit to consider appropriate for the mission she had in mind. “Including that you have recently returned from a certain realm.” Alistair himself was not perfect for the mission; his lack of self-confidence and the trepidation he displayed when confronted with danger may prevent him from succeeding. However, he was a stubborn fellow who followed through once committed, if his recent escapades were anything to go by.

“Were you aware that in your absence a small group of Mystriders found their way to Alexandria?” This news was not entirely related to what she was going to ask of him, but his reaction would give her an idea of where he stood on the matters involved.

[Alistair]

Though he did not react immediately, Alistair swallowed. He had done no wrong, at all, at least not to his own knowledge, and if he had he believed he would be receiving more than this discussion. While Alistair had admired Jericho, he had been so self-serving and almost cruel, he had not entirely agreed with the man's plans. He himself did not entirely understand the impact of what they had done, but he wouldn't be surprised if Jericho had something in mind for the Mystriders. And whether their appearance was coincidence or part of something bigger, he wasn't sure. To fully grasp the nature of the situation, he would tell the truth, as he was honest despite his pride and haughtiness.

He swallowed again, paused and sighed. “No, to be honest. I know Jericho... saw profit. When I joined the expedition, I thought it was your everyday mercenary party, defending a cargo. And I was completely, undoubtedly an idiot for going, but I did.” There was no word of a lie there. He had no idea of Acantha, as news had not really spread to him, nor he had investigated further. But he was blind not to have seen. “Is that related to our expedition...?” Alistair had no idea of the extent of their success, or failure.

[Xanth]

Xanth pursed her lips. She held no judgement against mercenaries or their ilk. In a place like Elysia, they were often the lesser of two evils and beneath her notice. However, Alistair's mention of Jericho's potential "plans" did wrinkle her nose. That the first thought he had was to profit from recent revelations did not surprise her, and she expected he would not be the last to make that effort. Having a trail of merchants running back and forth would complicate matters, though. It would be too easy for Danae to slip in his spies under the guise of trade. After all, was that not her own plan?

“Hmm.” She made a non-committal noise, neither confirmation nor denial that he was an "idiot". He had likely not done himself any favours by helping Jericho, but he was in a fine position to work for her now as a result. “You are in a unique position, Mister Beaumont. The members of the vanguard are all too well-known now, or find themselves too interesting to certain parties, for me to... employ them as I would like.” She almost said "use", but from experience knew that mortals disliked the concept. “You do not... enjoy that fame,” she continued, hesitating because she really did not believe many of the vanguard could truly say the experience was enjoyable. She did not mean to undermine Alistair's confidence, either; she was merely making a statement relevant to her upcoming request.

“Yet you have been to Acantha now and have more knowledge of the inhabitants now than your average Elysian.” She could have wished for more, for instance that he had met all the inhabitants and not only the Mystriders or the harpies. However, he was still better equipped than the rest. “Have you seen the notices advertising for telepaths? The soldiers shoring up the Chandric Barricade are requesting assistance in the form of translators for any further... visitors. Jericho and a Mister Moreaux have proven that telepaths are the most effective tool for communication across the linguistic barrier. Perhaps you will benefit from the practise, no?”

Xanth was not here to help with the recruitment drive. She was here to place spies close to the portal. Of course she could watch it all for herself, but she suspected there would be occasion in the future for these spies to continue their work on the other side of the portal, where she was not permitted to see. Alistair's experience in Chinyelu would stand him in better stead than other telepaths for a task such as this.

[Alistair]

While his experience in Acantha was not something he would be rushing to relive, Alistair would admit that there was something none too pleasant about Elysia being accessible to a less... welcoming, friendly god. He had seen enough of the harpies and their viciousness to understand that, and heard enough about the Malaki.. The thought sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't exactly sure what was being asked of him, but he imagined it sounded like some sort of reconnaissance mission, to him. It sounded as if she wanted to send him back. He was up for it, simply because he had a hard time saying no to people, and it was especially hard to say no to a goddess.

He took in a breath, exhaled slowly in a great sigh, and cleared his throat. “It sounds... like you need me for more than just assisting the soldiers around the barricade. I spent a lot of time with Mr Jericho, and while he is a clever man, I do not agree with what I helped to happen. So ask anything of me, and you will have it, because otherwise if you just wanted me to help with something as trivial as linguistic purposes, I don't think you would be physically here.” He did not mean to be forthright, but she did not have to feel like he would be hard to convince. He felt slightly guilty for having gone on the mission, but it would have been hard to worm his way out of it.

[Xanth]

Xanth stopped walking. They had reached the exit of the snowy labyrinth where icicles dripped from the overhang because Alexandria's native climate was not nearly cold enough to keep them frozen. A snowman spotted them and automatically reared back its white arm to throw a snowball at them, but then froze like that as it recognised its mistress. A second later, it swivelled at the hip like an owl's head to toss the ball at an unwitting passer-by instead.

“You are brave to challenge me, Mister Beaumont.” She was a little annoyed that he thought she had ulterior motives, but proud of him nonetheless. He was sharper than others among her Children, catching on much faster than even those she had chosen for her Aides. It had taken Chenoan years to understand that nothing she said was as remotely simple as the words she spoke, and Dazadi - who had been her Sword for much, much longer - still easily walked into her 'traps' like a fly throwing itself into the web.

“Danae and I have a treaty, a status quo, shall we say.” She did not wish to tell Alistair everything. In truth, he did not need to know. Her relationship with Danae had been over before his species came into being and he would likely be dead long before she and Danae spoke, face-to-face, again. In the meantime, “I had thought the treaty would lead to an alliance but he is, as ever, taking advantage. Neither of us may influence the other's worlds without breaking our pact, but he is...”

She paused, searching for words that would make sense to a mortal mind. Xanth rarely looked anything but completely sure of herself and her power, but Danae had frustrated her so much in such a short time that she found it difficult to keep her emotions in check. “...dangerous. More so because he no qualms about killing or harming innocents to get what he wants. I fear the Malaki are the least of Elysia's worries if he decides to actively undermine my position, and already my children think to challenge or abandon me.”

Xanth paused again, this time to step aside and smile beatifically so a family with small children could leave the maze. A boy gaped as his little sister, perhaps four or five years old, tugged on her gossamer skirts and asked in awe, “Are you Xanth?”

Curving a palm against the little girl's soft cheek, Xanth widened her lips and nodded. The parents scoffed and tugged at their children, glancing away and back and away and back as if afraid to believe but afraid to not. “Check your pocket when you get home, Cassie.” She winked at the little girl, who beamed and then darted off squealing to chase a snowman.

As if they had been uninterrupted, Xanth turned back to Alistair. “I was serious when I said you would benefit from taking a position at the barricade - in more ways than one - but you are indeed correct. It is paramount that we, how do mortals say, 'keep tabs' on Acantha. Your guilds are already at work in this regard, but they work blindly. In the future, I may need assistance in dealing with these guilds, a liaison or two of sorts, but for now I want people loyal to me stationed in key places - one of them being the checkpoint in the Chandric Forest.”

[Alistair]

Alistair had little idea of just how serious the situation with Acantha was, like the foolish mortal he was. In aiding Jericho in a plot he could not avoid, he had essentially assisted in bringing a danger to Elysia. He frowned thoughtfully; the Mystriders had not seemed warlike or ready to endanger the Elysians, in fact they had seemed a pleasant folk to him. But he supposed, any god who could create the Malaki or the harpies probably would not create just one pleasant race. He studied Xanth at this point, assessing her as a goddess as well. She had done alright, he supposed, since she had the decency to create him.

As he listened, he reflected. He thought he had annoyed her with his forthright attitude, but he was not as foolish or as naive as some mortals, and had some intuition to predicting the actions and thoughts of those around him, without telepathy. The 'varian was curious to see if he could tune into Xanth's mind, just for the sake of his own pride really - it would be amazing to say you read the creator's mind -, but he would not stoop so low, nor be so rude. She had his respect, especially for appearing to him and asking for his assistance and loyalty, which was real flattery when a deity asked for you specifically.

He barely saw the pretty little child Xanth spoke to, instead staring at his feet with a thoughtful frown. He was not so sure he was the best candidate for this job, since there were many more talented than he who would be of more service to her even though they had not seen Acantha. The conversation was coming to an end, but he still had so many questions, which he would have to answer for himself later on. “What sorts of things should I look out for? How will I report back to you?...” He trailed off, another hundred questions about to explode onto his lips. Instead, Alistair pursed his lips and looked at Xanth, at her wise, yet almost innocent, face. She probably knew about his self-doubt, but he had a feeling he was on his own in a few minutes.

[Xanth]

Xanth was indeed aware of Alistair's self-doubts, but she wanted them intact. In her experience, an overabundance of confidence, in either oneself or one's belief, led to arrogance and then war. A healthy dose of self-questioning would keep the Peteulanus grounded and focused. Nevertheless, she did settle a hand to his shoulder and squeezed gently, as reassuring as someone who fair bristled with power could get, before answering his question and dismissing his internal struggle.

“Anything and everything.” She quirked up the corner of her lips in a dry half-smile that could also have been a frown if her eyebrows burrowed any further. “Danae is a trickster. He weeds out the gaps in any defense, verbal or otherwise, and seizes on opportunities.” When he was not lazy, he was dangerous. He had the mind to be a great general, which was how he had avoided her father's wrath all those many eons ago, but usually lacked the ambition or the drive to do anything with it. That was how they had maintained their status quo all these years, and Xanth could only curse her own foolishness into thinking either one of them was ready for a true pact.

“Report to me anything you feel is noteworthy. Call my name and I shall come.” Her lips twitched. Honestly, she could keep an eye on everything herself, but as had been repeatedly proven, she was not omniscient in the ways that mattered. Her focus automatically snapped to larger issues so what appeared to be minor problems frequently slipped by her notice. That was how Dimitri had staged a war. She had not been oblivious in the slightest, but the majority of his actions were calculated to stay under her radar while she was distracted with other things. Having someone like Alistair do the legwork here meant she could puzzle together the pieces without overlooking things she might otherwise think were meaningless. “Or I shall send my Aide. Do not let Dazadi frighten you, though. She is - mostly - harmless to those assisting her. She may also, if you ask nicely, be willing to teleport you back to the city if you need to travel suddenly.” Though Xanth would quite like to witness the first time he asked...