"I think what you do determines what happens to your soul, not how you are buried. But I suppose it does make me feel a little better, even if I am going to be exhausted tomorrow. At the end of the day it seems more civilized, and that is a good enough reason for me." Verik replies, panting slightly as he begins piling stones atop a bugbear corpse.
"If things were as simple as that - then there would be no need to worry about the dead. History and legend are rife with stories about souls being trapped, stolen, misplaced or otherwise led from their called path. I, for one, believe that Sarenrae can redeem some small part of their spirit - and I hope to make it easier for her to do so."
"Comon Taisper, help me out here." he waves at the inquisitor as he sets to making the evening meal, opening cans and breakin bread.
Taisper looks surprised. The last thing he expected was to be asked to help out.
"Uhm...sure! I don't know if I'm much of a cook at all, definitely not like you and Tandlara are, but I could at least start a fire and things like that..." Clearly still tentative, Taisper walks over and helps out as best he can, watching very closely everything Berrin does so he can duplicate it later if need be. It occurs to him as he's studying the techniques of cooking that he is following his training to the letter, giving himself yet another tool to survive. Something clicks, and Taisper prays.
Master, Lawgiver; I beg of you. I pray as earnestly and sincerely as ever I have prayed for anything. Bestow upon me that gift that I know some other inquisitors have -- the gift of magical healing, so that I may be that much more able to sustain myself when the time comes for me to strike out on my own and do your work across these lands free from the trappings and interference of mere mortals, for I know now for certain...
The inquisitor steals a glance at Jemini and Verik engaging in their favorite pastime.
...that time will come.
Berrin goes through the ritual of preparing the meal without much thought, handing Taisper things absent mindedly to cut or portion, showing him how and giving him pointers without much thought. When the meal is ready and he sits munching he hands out scraps to Reggie, cutting of pieces of dried meat for the thylacine to devour hungrily, stareing into the fire in silence.
"So, Taisper." he says, breaking the silence. "Do you realy see folks auras? Your like, somthing special, right? An honest to God's inquisitor, yeah? So, I'm wondering.. What eh.. What do you see when you look at me? How's my aura doing?" he asks the young inquisitor earnestly.
"Aw, heck, Berrin, I'm not anything special, I just do my best with what the Master and Keeper has seen fit to bless me. I do see auras, some're bigger or stronger than others. Let's see what I get..."
Taisper concentrates on the fighter for a while, his eyes glowing gold. "It's a little...murky. Like with Verik. I don't know if it's because you're not of a certain power, or if it just means you're not too much one thing or another, you know what I mean? You're probably in-between, maybe. I...I just became able to do this so I'm still praying for guidance in how to use it and understand what some things mean. But in your case, I think you're basically good, just not...maybe, not overpoweringly so. If that makes any sense? Things like the Bugbears or those...creatures that we saw up in the mountains? Those are pretty blazingly clear. But so far most people are a wash of lots of things."
After a good night's sleep, almost exhausted from the pitched battle against the bugbears. Those who were injured and healed are remarkably sore, unused to the rigors of magical healing to such an extent. Still, Verik's healing power seemed stronger, more focused than before. The combined experience leaves them both exhilirated, tired, and vigorous at the same time.
Up on the mountain, the view is pretty extraordinary. The entire northwest portion of their charge stretches out before the expedition. One day, with luck and hard work, it will be civilized. But for now, it is wild and natural.
Tandlara rises early and begins to make food, she gathers herbs and mixes them into oil in the pan. Talking quietly to herself, she cuts slices off the bread and fetches some meat. Setting Riddleskin to watch the pan from Reggie, which the rat climbs up an a rock and bares his teeth to do, she runs out of the clearing to pick a few small onions that she had seen on her first forage. Returning she chases Reggie back from where he was sniffing curiously at a desperately hissing Riddleskin, petting the rat she slices the onions up and adds them to the pan, placing it over the fire and frying the bread in the herbs and onions. The smell wafts across the clearing, and Tandlara occasionally looks around to take in the veiw and smiles.
Waking up with the smell of food in his mouth Berrin stretches and sits up. Sitting down by the fire after relieving himself a little ways off he smacks his lips as he helps himself to a serving. "So, Tandlara. Your an elf, obviously. I eh.. I haven't met many of you, your maybee the second or third elf I've met. So eh.. I'm wondering.. Why are there so few of you? I mean.. You guys have had like, ages, to.. you know.. get it on, so to speak. And that means you got more time to make more kids.. So.. Yeah.. Why aren't there more of you? Don't you have like.. those.. kind of um.. instincts?"
'Elves do indeed have urges and desires, in fact Calistria being an elven god we're quite open about them, there is little stigma among my kind for such things, prudishness is considered silly. But raising a child for a hundred years is a vast endeavour. My kind live mostly in kin groups, that could have five or more generations, even our cities are little more than kin groups living close together. The whole family raises one child at a time, and otherwise we use various herbs or methods to prevent taking child. We had such methods before we ever came to Golarion, and I do not know what we did before that time.'
'Does that help? It is also a factor that apart fromt he Forlorn, most of my people find travelling among humans distresssing. Those elves who spend extended time or form bonds with humans are considered to be unstable and unhinged, cursed to melancholy,' she smiles sadly, and looks at Berrin as she serves up breakfast.
Berrin mulls over Tandlaras words as he munches on breakfast. "So.. Your considered unhinged by your kin, huh? That's harsh. I mean.. You travel with us an' you don't come of as playing high and mighty or nothing. You just seem patient, even a bit motherly to us.. but melancholy and depressed? I dunno, maybee I just don't know elves. So are elves cheerfull and jovial by rule then? I mean.. If you count as depressed that is, then what are the others like? Always dancing an' stuff?"
Blinking more relaxed in the morning sun, Jemini only half-follows Berrin's and Tandlara's discussion; but then perks up her ears and asks: "Raising a child for a hundred years? I thought that elves reach what passes for maturity for humans in a similar span of time?"
|
Verik awakens as usual before the dawn, changes out of his chain shirt giving it a look of loathing - while it is possible and indeed prudent to sleep in the thing it is far from comfortable - and moves off out of sight for a shower.
After scrubbing for a time, while contemplating the lives of bugbear, and whether they are capable of becoming truly civilized, and whether that would change their seemingly violent natures, he changes into a fresh outfit and returns. Buckling on his breastplate he takes a seat on a rock overlooking the vast sweep of countryside they hope to tame and for once keeps his eyes open as he begins to pray.
Dear Abadar,
Things progress well I believe. My concerns for my cousin wax again though I still hope his disturbing surety can be curbed by the rest of the group - I myself might try to take a backseat in that as he seems to be particularly averse to my arguments.
We found gold with your grace yesterday and will eventually turn that vein into lifesblood for this budding nation. Today we return to the boggards territory hoping to gain an ally, or at least a non antagonistic neighbor, but we are also prepared if necessary to eliminate a threat - do not let it come to that I pray.
As he prays his eyes roving over the landscape before him he half listening to the conversation going on behind him.
'My people rarely show emotions as obviously as humans. My sadness and another elves giddy enjoyment of nature would not look hugely different. Its part of what many elves find unsettling about you. You life your lifes so much more intensely in the time you have,' she replies to Berrin before turning to Jemini.
'Physical maturity takes slightly longer than in humans, but elves learn slow in our early years, we take our time to learn things and grow. Maturity is not simply a matter of physical size. As with all things, we are willing to wait.'
Jemini gets a bit excited as she explores the possibilities that form in her head: "Humans vary quite a lot from child to child. Not just in physical attributes, but also demeanor and personality. I know it's generalizing, but compared to humans, elves often seem more flighty and chaotic - I mean, look at Verik here. He can chart numbers and organize all day long: not something I can picture most elves doing. It's an interesting dichotomy."
|
|
Rising and flushing slightly as he is forced to hop back over to the group, one leg having gone to sleep, Verik shakes his head.
"Think what one could achieve in an elven life time if you did possess an orderly mind... The possibilities would be endless. But of course such a span would change a man, though it would not I think make an elf of him mentally - I think elves more alien than that."
Tandlara smiles at Verik. 'I think that perhaps you are right, but the threat of death, or time running out does not factor into the lives of the long lived, thats why elves, and indeed other creatures who live for vast amounts of time often seem so slow to act to humans. We always think we have more time.'
She spreads her arms to encompass the surroundings, 'But humans are winning. You are everywhere, on every continent, and soon in every valley. Even this land, this untameable, wild land will be yours. It may take a lifetime, but to me, it will be as if it changed overnight.'
She smiles again and winks at Berrin. 'If I don't go mad first'
"Let's get up everybody! We can make the boggards' habitat today - maybe be back in Svetlana's arms by the day after tomorrow!"
Berrin barks a laugh at Tandlara then spares a wink at Jamini at the mention of resting in Svetlanas arms. Shaking his head he gets up and dons his equipmnent before saddling up Bessie and climbing on top the beast, ready to go.
|
|
Verik - trying unsuccessfully not to look gratified by Tandlara's words - rises and stretches yawning before moving over to Virtue. Brushing his faithful steed down swiftly he tacks up and carefully notes their position to mark on the map later.
"Right, well lets move with all speed for the first part of our journey. I will be searching for gold again and the more ground I can cover the better."
That said he mounts up and when the group are ready casts his spell and spurs Virtue on to a gallop - or as close as he feels he can get given the terrain.
The expedition sets off to finish exploring the mountain. The breezy mountain air makes the trip quite pleasant, though Bessie is back to acting up. She nearly dumps Berrin a few times, though his budding horsemanship keeps him from being unsaddled. The exploration is not particularly difficult, despite the rocky terrain.
While on the southeast face of the mountain, the expedition notices a small cabin. It appears to actually be built into the mountain's side itself, rather than freestanding. It has a very sturdy look to it, with the cornerstones literally made of stone rather than the area's usual timber structures.
Tandlara notes the cabin with a quizzical look, observing it from a distance and trying to see what else she can notice about it.
'Isn't that strange? Should we go and explore/observe it, or head on to meet this boggard and stop by on the way home? What day is it? I do lose track, how long until your festival?'
"The festival will wait for us to get back, I'm sure." Berrin replies to Tandlara as he eyes the cabin. "Let's be carefull though, we don't want another incident like the one at Orlivanche's. Ok, Tandlara? Keep behind us." With that he tries to find a path to the cabin, doing his best to keep his temper with Bessie as she neighs and tosses.
Taisper has been in a strange sort of rapture since last night. He's been praying more than usual, his lips moving even while riding along, as if he is conversing with someone, though no sound can be heard. He eyes the cabin warily when it's pointed out but says nothing, instead choosing to look around for any noticeable signs of activity in the immediate area -- bent trees, tracks, anything of the sort.
Jemini's mood is a little infectious as she heads towards the cabin. "No need to be so negative, last time we found little Nikki and his mom. If you embrace the world a little, it will shower you with good fortune in return. Besides - it's not like this will take long, our plans should be fine." She rides onward, clearly enjoying the prospect of meeting somebody new.
As Jemini nears the cabin's front door, it flies open with a surprising bang. A short and stout figure comes flying out, nearly tackling her before she can react, despite her strange ability to know where hostile attacks might come. As everyone springs to action, startled by the abruptness of potential combat, the figure begins to laugh a deep and hearty laugh. Jemini notices that the figure is hugging her tightly, not attacking her.
After a beat, several things are clear: this is a dwand; he is not hostile (uncomfortably friendly, actually); he is drunk; and he might be a little bit crazy. He greets them with a booming voice. "Good to make your acquaintance! Like I said, I'm Bokken and this is my establishment! Why don't you have a seat at the bar, pull up a chair?" He gestures to a small stone rock, flat on top but only a foot high or so. "I have your orders ready, just like we talked about. I hope you have the payment ready!"
Just inside the cabin, sharp eyes can spot a strange laboratory of liquids in all sorts of hues. Several beakers are bubbling over, dripping onto the stone floor where much of it has dried into a sticky-looking mess. Some of the liquids are clearly dwarven ale, while some look magical or alchemical in nature. Hopefully they aren't getting mixed, though that might explain Bokken's strange behavior.
Tandlara glances inside the hut to see what she can notice before she grins and helps Jemini to her feet, she then turns to the dwarf and her face becomes very serious.
'You'll have to forgive me, you know how elven memories are. What was it that we ordered again? I'm very embarassed to have forgotten.'
She looks at him with all earnestness, a twinkle in her eye.
'It is a pleasure to remake your acquaintance Bokken. A pleasure indeed!'
Jemini laughs - as much from the surprise as anything - but as the situation becomes more clear she grins at Bokken and tells him: "Don't let Tandlara trip you up - she likes fooling around. We haven't met yet - at least I don't remember meeting a man with such a tight tackle in a long while." She takes a good look at Bokken, and the inside of his shop/bar, "Do you remember who placed the order for the things? We could deliver it for you - or find them and let them know to come and get it."
Noticing Bokken's confusion she adds: "I know we humans all look alike to you - but we haven't met yet. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Jemini of Lebeda."
Bokken literally drops Jemini when he sees Tandlara. He rushes over to her, pulling her down by the shoulders and planting a huge kiss on the elf. His thick, virile beard is quite strange against her smooth elven skin. "My darling Sovyria, how I've missed you! I was jus' now thinking about you and that amazing night we spent together while captive in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings." He strokes her face gently, tenderly. "I've just finished my finest ale ever, ready for the coronation ceremony! My love, what are you doing with the Empress?"
Berrin craks up at the obviosly drunk dwarfs antics. Relaxing his grip on his sword he settles in to watch his tirade, seeing if the others make any progress with him. Beeing a soldier, he know he will fade into the background to the empress and his long lost love. Settling in he leans casually agains the doorframe and peeks inside.
His ears perk up as he examines what apears to his as a masterwork still and Bokken talks about his perfect brew. "Any chance you've got some of that brew lying about?" he asks hopefuly.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Grinning bemusedly Verik chants briefly before approaching with a noticable swagger in his step and leaning against the doorframe "You never told me you were an Empress your Highness! Alas I fear I have committed all manner of social faux pas! Sir Dwarf would you happen to know the penalty for pinching an Empresses bottom? I think it prudent to know these things... Just in case. I would hate to loose a hand after all, though I do have two.."
With a theatrical bow to the dwarf he adds, "Tell me Sir Bokken do you recognize anymore of my new found traveling companions? I find myself traveling in august company of a sudden and one likes to at least be aware of the rules of etiquette one is ignoring - else what is the point?"
Sadly even with magical help Verik is still Verik, and despite his bravado under the gazes of his fellows a crimson tide slowly overwhelms the clerics features, the glibness fading as he speaks until he looks like a bad actor who dearly wants to be done with a long rehearsed piece he is mangling.
Bokken laughs and guffaws at Verik's awkwardness. "The court jester! What a day! Do tell another!" He let's go of Tandlara, pulling Berrin and Verik down with his arms around each. He leans in close to Berrin and whispers conspiratorially, though everyone can hear him. "I think his act needs work, don't you? It's too bad they don't let the bodyguards smile, otherwise I could tell you some jokes that would put the beard on your face! Alas, you can't taste my newest creation while you're on-duty. What a pity!" He let's go of them and beckons everyone inside. "Into the castle, everyone. I fear we are beseiged by sobreity, and we must prepare the battlements!"
This dwarf reminds Taisper so much of his Uncle Tipsy -- who actually is a real person back in Alkenstar -- that he's getting an intense sense of deja vu. Nonetheless, glad to have found another friendly (so far, anyway) denizen of the Unclaimed Lands, Taisper recalls how the family dealt with Theodore (Uncle Tipsy) Stozs, and walks in after the others. "Master Bokken, so good to see you again. How's tricks?" The inquisitor smiles warmly and gives a small salute as he says this.
Bokken claps Taisper on the back on his way in. "They're good, lad. Better than ever." He pulls out a collection of mugs from a cupboard, an eclectic mix of glass, wood, metal, and one garishly painted ceramic. He lays on the floor and pushes himself under a table that has a large barrel atop it, his feet sticking out from underneath as he opens up a tap from the underside of the table. "Retirement is treating me well, although sometimes I consider finishing the Test of the Starstone once they make it more difficult. My autobiography is going well, though I fear it won't be ready for publication until it becomes an obituary." He pops out, holding six mugs filled with the ale. He hands them out, giving one to everyone except Berrin, and raises his for a toast. "To the Empress and to my beloved Sovyria, together at last. May there be no lingering jealousy regarding what occurred that fateful summer in Andoran. We must instead be thankful that we were able to save democracy. To freedom!"
The ale is a wide collection of flavors, almost a kaleidoscopic journey through tastes. It is at once nutty, sweet, grainy, and rich. It is truly an extraordinary brew. For all of Bokken's mad ravings, he is a masterful brewer.
Tandlara perches at the edge of a table, her weight having little bearing on the overladen work surface as she sips delicately at the brew, enjoying its breadth of flavor and concealing a bemused smile behind her mug. 'How much have you had to drink Bokken?' Tandlara asks with a slight smile faintly curving the lips of her otherwise still features.
"..heey.." Escapes Berrin's lips as the ale flies freely to everyone but him, unable to hide his disapointment he sits with a sour expression on his face, staring holes into the dwarf. "It's my day off you know. Come good dwarf, put a smile on my face." he says unlashing his own metal tankard from his belt and holding the bent and dented thing up to the dwarf.
Bokken grins and fills up Berrin's mug with the dwarven ale. "I suppose it can't hurt, but if there is another assassination attempt by the Red Mantises and you are unprepared, I will have to take matters into my own hands. Let us pray that it doesn't come to that."
Breaking into a grin as the mug fills up Berrin barks a laugh without taking his eyes off it. Accepting it back almost reverantly he smaks his lips as he raises it in toast to Bokken. "Master Bokken. If they show, this will tip the scales in our favor!" he boasts and takes a sip.
His eyes widen as the aray of smells and tastes fill his sences, not-quite managing to lower his tankard the sip turns into a gulp wich is followed by another. Lowering his tankard he sighs in contentment at the brew, closing his eyes he enjoys the after tastes of the masterfull brew.
"Beutifull." he finally manages. Half opening one eye he looks at the dwarf appraisingly. "You know, eh.. A keg would make our travels smoother. The eh.. empresses travels and eh.. your eh.. darling Sovyria's.." he says hopefully.
Nudging Verik and Taisper, making sure each has a filled cup or tankard, "hehe, when in Absalom..." She takes a proffered goblet for herself, letting the cool liquid run smoothly over her lips. The cultivated taste explosion that follows is nothing short of breathtaking. "Wow! Bokken! This must be your best one yet!"
As soon as Berrin has drained his mug, or come close, Taisper quickly hands the warrior his own mug. "Yeah, and since I'm currently on duty, taking some with would allow me to sample it later, once I'm relieved. Can't be too safe; Red Mantis, and all..."
Tandlara smiles at the back and forth as Bors tries to swindle Bokken, good-naturedly, out of his fine ale. Taking another sip she begins to have a looka round the room, taking particular interest in the various alchemical and magical reagents found scattered on the worktop, she does not touch anything, but simply takes it in and wonders exactly how it all works, and differs from her own magic.
Bokken eyes Taisper untrustingly. "Where did you say you were from?" He speaks to the others as he keeps a close eye on the inquisitor while taking his mug away. "I have another ten barrels in the cellar, ready for shipment if you have the payment. I trust the usual rate of 50 gold per barrel still applies?"
Taisper, not wanting to ruin the congenial mood of the proceedings thus far, responds quickly and truthfully; "Alkenstar City, actually, way out past the Mana Wastes. Pardon my poor manners, Bokken, it's been a powerful long journey in the company of so many folks of high birth. It can wear on a guy, you know?" He smiles lamely. Okay so at least the bit about me was true. Can't hurt to let the guy keep up his end of the...illusion, I guess?
"..ten kegs.. ..fifty gold.. ten times five.. ..times ten.. ..thet equals.. ..five hundred gold!" Berrins face scrunches up as he does the math but lights up as he comes to the final number. "Why yes Bokken, I have the gold right here actually." he says fishing around in his pockets. Coming out with a few purses he starts counting out the gold. "You got a wagon lying about for us to ferry it? And how long would it take to brew another batch?"
Tandlara watches as the interplay continues, but at Bokkens mention of the price, she wrinkles her forhead somewhat. If the stuff in Restov was worth- And the quality of this is- Seeing his ingredients and the price of making- And the fees for a master crafter- Not to mention the uniqueness of the brew- It should be worth...
Tandlara's eyes open wide as she realises how much the alcohol is actually worth, her eyes going from Bokken to the grinning Berrin, who may not even realise the scope of the deal he's getting. What if he was promised this to someone else, and needs the real money to keep him going...
'Bokken. ...um... Dearest. Do you keep any ledgers or books? It wouldn't do to have you sell this ale to us if it is promised to someone else? I think you should check before you make any deals, just in case.'
The dwarf taps the side of his head. "No need! Mind's like a steel trap. I remember every transaction I've ever arranged. I remember when I got your letter, just a few days ago. Let me go find it." He starts checking the many papers scattered on the desk and counters. In the meantime, the expedition gets its first close look at the cabin. It is large, deceptively so from the exterior's appearance. Alchemical apparatuses line most of the room, with seemingly dozens of actively brewing convictions in various stages of readiness. A cupboard stands open, multiple potions inside, though not a single one is marked.
"A-ha!" He shouts triumphantly, brandishing a letter. He slips on a pair of strange glasses, augmented with strange gears and lenses, and reads the letter aloud. "Dear Bokken, I hope that you're doing well up in the mountains. Oleg and I want to order some of your finest brewed ale for a party. Several of our guests worship Abadar and are very excited about Taxfest, so I'd like to surprise them with a party. We would love you as a guest. It's on the 15th, so don't forget! Love, Svetlana Leveton"
Tandlara beams at the announcement that the ale was fro Svetlana anyway.
'We'd be happy to procure the ale from you, though I think perhaps that Bors would like a keg for himself,' the elf smiles at the grizzled fighter as she says his name.
'But maybe we could collect the kegs on the way back from an errand we have to run to the west? We shouldn't be more than a day or two, would that be okay?' She rests her hand on the dwarves stained and slightly singed sleeves looking at him with wide earnest eyes.
"Indeed!" Jemini agrees, to Bokken she adds: "We don't travel through here so much to know all the other people staying in the area. Can you think of anybody that we can find within a day or so that we could invite to the festivities?"
Taisper also smiles at the irony of their arriving almost in exact sync with Svetlana's letter, and the fact that Taxfest will have what is apparently some very good ale for those who are into such things.
Bokken puts his hand on Tandlara's, rough and hairy against her delicate elven hands. "My love, I would wait a century for you. Leave the invitations to me. You will have a homecoming worthy of a queen!" He rushes to the back, pulling several things out of a chest and throwing them haphazardly behind him as he looks for a specific item. "A-ha!" He pulls out a horn, presenting it to the expedition. It is a fairly strange-looking horn, curling several times over in seemingly random directions. He returns to the open front door and blows it hard. The noise echoes through the mountain, bouncing off the peaks. It is probably audible for miles, especially in the valley that the house faces. He turns, a smile on his face. "Well, there you go!"
Tandlara's sensitive ears are still ringing with the horns call when she looks around. She shrugs, rubbing at her ears.
'Well that... uh... achieves that end.'
With a slight shake of her head, she lowers her hands. 'Shall we go on, reach our goal and return as quickly as we can?'
When the party leaves Tandlara spares a warm smile and a wave for Bokken before mounting up on Avansatra, petting a sleeping Riddleskin gently and reining in with the party as they continue on through the valley.