In the upper floors of Booster's Tower, in the depths of a mysterious toy chest, a single room had been repurposed as a certain once-visitor, now-resident's needs required.

The unmoving body of the pumpkinhead called Merciviant rested on a simple sleeping bag, apparently with no concern other than just to keep from being directly on the floor. It didn't breathe, not that it did when active...in fact, it rarely moved outside of strictly necessary motions in general. Affirmative nods or negative shakes were mostly all the body language it gave. In short, it's difficult to tell if it's just lost in thought or asleep at any given time.

The latter seemed to be the case. A candlelike light appeared in its one eye socket as it abruptly rose in its dark room. At the snap of its bony fingers, another light came on, just enough to read. Just as it preferred.

Its hand brushed around its gourd as it felt the roots spreading down from under its witch's hat, noting they'd grown longer again.

Too much water intake lately, perhaps. But that too is not an option. I shall have to see if someone has the tools to trim them in town, if possible.

From under a cloth nearby, it pulled out the grimoire it always carried with it. It opened a page to an tall birdlike creature that seemed to be holding a string of round charms of some sort. That candlelight eye quickly looked through a section on the page mentioning materials and actions before Merciviant closed the book, rose up and dusted itself off.

Right. I should see if that silver is ready for retrieval today. If so, we shall carry out the contract tonight.

It looked around, making note of something unseen.

Though...something is a bit off about the air today. I wonder if someone unusual has paid the tower a visit. It is not really any business of mine, but...at the same time, I should be a courteous guest.

Heading out and upwards, it set out to see what the odd lack of commotion could be about before visiting Truce.

Merciviant has taken no more than a few steps out of its room when what is presumably the source of the disturbance makes itself known. There isn't anything there; not physically, in any case. It would take someone highly sensitive to mana, or perhaps bearing another supernatural sense of some sort to even realize it's there. That something collides with Merciviant. It feels like nothing. Even more incorporeal than a light summer breeze. But in that instance, a voice, less than a whisper, falls over the pumpkinhead, its words struggling to be made out.

~... 'z'...lp...~

"...?"

Merciviant seems to struggle to try and focus on something, therein lying the emphasis - on 'something'. There is definitely something there, yet 'feeling' it seems like the wrong word to use. And yet that feeling is unmistakable. Something similar to magic, yet more natural? Something it was unversed in, something unrecognized, yet familiar. While it could not truely detect this force, it did hear the tiny voice.

"Is someone here? I cannot sense you. But I do hear you - please answer if this is mutual."

Now that Merciviant is focused on it, it's ever so slightly more possible to perceive what's happening. It's definitely a presence of some sort, but it's one that's definitely not present in the Tower at this moment. The voice picks up again, enough that it's clear that they're straining when they 'speak' -- presumably to be heard.

~... heard me!... ...ease...~

It falls silent again, as if gathering itself when it realizas it's barely coming through. The next attempt, at least, is clear enough.

~Help me!~

Focusing the entirety of its will on where the voice seems to be coming from, Merciviant stands stock still and answers quickly.

"I hear and sense you. Hold fast - I shall try to draw you to me. Will that suffice?"

While still waiting for the answer, the summoner braces itself and assumes a stance that looks as though it is about to pull something with great force, magic energy rising up around it...

There is a very brief pause, and then a response that seems a bit... agitated? It requires concentration to pick up on the voice very well at all, so the impression is very faint.

~...o, wait! If you ...se magic, she'll find ...s.~

Uncertainty. The connection feels tenuous, like it could break at any moment.

~I migh... ...t have very long.~

Merciviant hesitated. It was clear this voice was in need of immediate aid, yet with some subtlety.

"I have an idea. If we need to go unnoticed, my room is ideal. One moment."

Quickly, it strides back into its room and retakes its stance - a summoning spell, focused on this unknown presence, with minimal power.

Calmly, it speaks in a low voice -

"I call to you, whose name I do not know. I offer you the threshold of this sanctuary. Not in contract, not in service - in hospitality, in welcome. Arrive here before me if these conditions allow, yet reject this invitation otherwise. In the name of Merciviant, in my growing authority - You are welcome here."

With that, a rotating and softly glowing circle appears below the summoner's feet - one that uses the bare minimum of the caster's power to invite, rather than summon, the intended recipient. The result, if successful, should allow the target to near seamlessly slip into the area from wherever they are with no fanfare.

A brief silence follows the new circle being manifested, and a new sound is drawn out. It sounds a bit like bitter laughter.

~I can't... but th... you. For being kind. If... you really... ... help...~

A hesitation follows, as they consider the best way to convey the information they need to. And, perhaps, to gather themself, to ensure that it is conveyed clearly, and understandably.

An image imprints itself on Merciviant's mind. A white, sterile room, with little in it but shelf after shelf of delicate dolls, each beautiful in their own way. On each doll's shoe is a symbol of some sort. The shape resembles a flower with abundant sharp petals. Other than the dolls, there is little else notable in the room.

~Please, we...~

Suddenly, another presence reaches along this connection, interrupting the first. Where the voice so far has been faint, distant, and weak, this one is anything but, exuding a sense of self-assured authority.

~You seem to be hearing voices, little gourd. You should worry more about getting that looked into, and less about trifling with situations you know nothing about.~

And with that, the connection is severed, living Merciviant alone.

The pumpkinhead was disoriented by the interruption and imagery, staggering and falling to one knee as it held its head.

"Interference...and detection, of something that should go unseen...
I suppose it is right, however. Whatever that was seems to be beyond my current power to understand.
I can only hope that guest finds themself safe."

It sits for a moment, collecting itself.

It would be best if I did not travel alone.

Being still for a moment, another circle appeared around it before a small meow was heard. A five-legged kitten, each leg ending ina goat hoof, crawled up from the floor itself before stretching and yawning, then sitting down and looking up at its summoner with a light purr.

"It is good to see you again, Buer. Would you accompany me to an acquaintances' home? I am afraid things seem a bit tense today."

The tiny cat meowed with a happy ring, already heading out towards the door to the summoner's chamber.

Standing up and dusting itself off again, Merciviant began its descent to the bottom of the tower and towards Truce, keeping an eye and ear out for anything, familiar and unfamiliar alike.