Family ties & family that never dies

Zath’riss completed the Tiny Hut ritual and looked over at Samara as she finished casting Heroes Feast. “So … a gentleman should never ask but as no one has ever accused me of that, exactly how old are you … not in actual years, mind you but statistically for your race. Am I robbing the cradle here or are you corrupting an innocent?”

Without blinking Samara asked “Do you any innocents around here? I have a ritual I’ve been wanting to try that … ehh no, that also requires two gnomes and a dozen eggs. Or was it a rod of domination? After a century or two the details get muddled.” She dodged the empty wine skin Zath’riss half heartedly threw at her. “Does it bother you? I told you my race was long lived.”

“True, and it was my assumption that you meant ‘long lived’ meaning a few centuries like gnomes, not ‘practically forever’ like elves. It doesn’t bother me as such but I now worry, satyrs are not immortal at all. Was it inconsiderate for, from your perspective, a mayfly to seek a relationship with you? It feels selfish of me now.”

Samara looked at him for a moment “If I was worried about such things, I think your many ‘near death experiences’ would have been more than sufficient warning. Even if satyrs normally lived for eons, there is no guarantee that you will survive the month, especially as the demons, devils and daemons seem to have it in for you specifically. I wonder what exactly they have against you.”

“I’m sure I have no idea, everybody loves me. Why, before I even started training with the troupe, people would beg and plead for me to tell them a story. This one time at bard camp …”

Samara quickly jumped in before Zath’riss could continue “Yes, yes, I remember that tale. And the one about what happened after the troupe left you … sorry, after you left the troupe. And the one about the lone fishing village dying of boredom. Which reminds me, speaking of dying, have you smoothed things out with Vito? He seemed rather angry before he and Flit went scouting.”

“Smoothed what out? It’s surely the demon and it’s foul sorceries he’s upset about. I obviously went to protect and release his mother. How could he be angry with me?” Zath’riss said with innocent honesty.

“Please, for me, go apologize to him. Chalk it up to battle rage and the fog of battle if you like but when the dust settled, he heard her dying cry and turned to see you standing next to the cage holding his dead mother. Not exactly the image to promote rational thought, you agree? Maybe use that Simulacrum scroll to be on the safe side, just in case he has not yet calmed down.”

Zath’riss suddenly looked embarrassed before staring at the ground. “Ahh yes, the Simulacrum scroll … I seemed to have lost that somewhere along the way. Sylmara and I were comparing spells from our books and I saw that the scroll was gone. I have no idea where it could be right now.”