Taisper pushes the door open, his magical morningstar at the ready. The others are right behind him, weapons drawn and prepared for violence. The sight inside is surprising, to say the least. It is clean, almost meticulously so, as if organized by a manic pixie. Everything is neatly in its place, with everything marked and clearly systematically organized. There is a note on the table in hte middle of the room that the ale was previously.
'Dearest Friends,
I have set out to fill Svetlana Leventon's order, as per our previous discussion. I will gather local residents during my trip to make this a gathering to remember! I recommend taking a bit of a break here until the foul weather passes. You'll find my larder is well-stocked. I have set aside enough drink to last the evening, as well as prepared a meal. Enjoy my hospitality, and I will see you all soon!
Bokken Magnus, Brewmaster of Torag'
Taisper finishes reading the note and looks at the others. He is clearly a bit blinkered. "...Oh." He looks back at the paper and twists his mouth. "Weather? What?" The youngster goes outside and tests the breeze and looks at the clouds, trying to draw a bead on just what exactly is headed their way...
...after a minute, he pokes his blonde head back in the door. "Huh! Bokken's right. It looks like we're in for a bit of nastiness overnight. Not sure just how bad or how long, exactly, but bad and long enough I won't say no to the good dwarf's hospitality if the rest of you feel it's okay. I mean, we've been invited, right?"
Jemini's relieved that the episode of heightened anxiety passes as little more than a spell of bad weather. Thank you for the kindness, Sarenrae.
"I'm happy to stay - we probably wouldn't make Oleg's before nightfall anyway. So we might as well enjoy the repast Bokken has left us." Jemini nods to Taisper's words, then more quietly, only half-kidding, she asks him: "Do you reckon that Bokken is as batty as he seems - or is he maybe a lot more cunning then his drunken demeanor suggests?"
'We certainly have,' Tandlara says absentmindedly as she reads the letter. The handwriting. She looks around the room, at the meticulous order of the workshop, and then her large green eyes return to the sheet of paper in her hands.
'It seems our Dwarven friend Bokken is more together than we first encountered. Perhaps he was simply a very silly drunk. It's good to see that he seems to have things under control. Indeed, it seems he'll be gathering up more locals for us to meet at the festival.'
How strange... I could have sworn he was more than just inebriated...
Mere minutes after entering the cabin, a fierce storm begins buffeting the mountain. Lightning and thunder strike multiple times as the storm blows around the mountain peaks through the valley. The rain pelts the door, now firmly secured, but the cabin is exceptionally well-designed. While the expedition can hear the storm raging on the other side of the walls, the inside is comfortable and heated by some strange alchemical reaction that runs through a series of tubes along the corners of the walls and ceiling.
The prepared food is a well-seasoned pig, cooked on a spit in the kitchen. The pleasantness of the unusual dinner gets both Verik and Zander out of their strange moods, happily chatting with the others. Verik leads the others in a toast, "To bringing civilization and order!"
Zander joins in, grinning. The grin is strangely subdued, a silent reminder that his face itself has physical limitations that his magical disguise cannot heal. After taking a drink of Bokken's extraordinary ale, he asks thoughtfully, "What are we going to name it? Our new little nation, I mean. The political reality of the situation means that Rostland can't lay claim to the land, not without setting off a war between the Houses. It'll be ours to make our own, free of the ridiculous notions of 'nobility' and 'tradition' that run things up there."
"I'm all for a nation of freedom and equality - but you do realize that no matter how you cut it, there will be people in charge and people not in charge," Jemini lectures. "Instead of trying to abolish hierarchies just to replace them with new ones, I think the emphasis should be in trying to give everybody a fair chance. Education and opportunity, right?"
She muses, "But a name... aye... there's the rub." Her eyes glow a little as she reflects on possibilities. "Maybe the celestial word for freedom? Or striving? Ambition?"
"In celestial, Freedom is 'Bneleltus.' Striving is 'lynijicw' and ambition is 'aspiyiuc.'" Taisper offers, not able to remember offhand who else speaks celestial. "I guess Bn'eltus isn't too bad." he shrugs.
Verik goofily takes a drink of his ale and tries to pronounce "Bn'eltus" with a mouthful of Bokken's finest. It comes out not too differently than the Celstial, really. He devolves into a fit of giggles after swallowing and coughing. "How about Keystone, in honor of Abadar? I'm sure the Manual of City-Building will have a set of approved city names."
Tandlara wrinkles her nose at the Celestial suggestions.
'Those do not roll easily off of the mortal tongue. The Elven for freedom is saorshe . Perhaps in such a fey-haunted land, Sylvan might be an idea. In which case freedom is Rhydiad.'
'Though in the more traditional Brevic, freedom would be Laysve.'
Zander idly responds to Tandlara's Brevic. "Maybe a century ago, but the pronunciation is less archaic. It's layseve now. Either way, let's not tie ourselves to Brevoy. This is our nation, not theirs. Considering how they treat their 'commoners,' I'm not sure that they really should even have a word for freedom. Or for family or loyalty either." He mutters the last few words to himself, finishing it off by downing the rest of his cup.
Jemini turns the various suggestions around in her mouth, the tip of her tongue darting oddly from her mouth as she tries "lynijicw" and "aspiyiuc". Eventually she plays with a variation on the Sylvan for freedom, "Reedhea ... how does that sound?" She's still uncertain, playing with the words and thoughts. "Or maybe we should look to some natural feature or quality of this land. The Untamed. Timeless. Verdant."
Tandlara lays a reassuring hand on Zanders arm, with a gentle smile.
'Thats true. I prefer the Sylvan myself. It fits nicely, respectful to where we're taking this land from. And who knows more about the true meaning of freedom than the fey?'
Tandlara shares her smile with the others as the thunder and rain outside continue to batter at the stout building, though the sound barely penetrates the dwarf's sturdy domicile.
Then she turns at Jemini's suggestion; 'Reedhea, I like that. I like that very much.'
"You sure? It's easier for me to say it that way - but what if that inflection means something wholly different in Sylvan? Mistress Liásè was always very strict on that." Jemini absentmindedly rubs her cheek, flushing in a pain that is more than a decade old.
Zander smiles at Tandlara, the strange shape of his scarred face still evident through his smile. He turns over to Jemini to answer her question. "Rhy-di-ad. Sylvan's not a difficult language, really. Doesn't have many words. You just have to feel them. Think of the wind in the trees, the smell of a fresh rain. That's Sylvan, not the proper inflection or conjugation. You've got to get your mind out of your private tutors and elite academies to speak Sylvan, otherwise you're just making sounds."
I rekon the name should sound strong and inviting. Somthing like Shieldwall or Haven or even Lion's Cove if we found a good waterfront town." Berrin pipes in. "Prieglauda.. Haven.. that sounds nice."
Shrugging apologeticly Berrin adds; "Naming somthing in sylvan is just a bit fairy-ish if you catch my meaning. No offence!" he says glancing at Tandlara. "It's just I rekon we want good common folk to understand it and feel attracted right?"
"There's truth in what you say, Berrin," Jemini agrees. "I'm partial to names that mean things in common. Though Lion's Cove... I don't know about that..." She takes another swig of Bokken's Best. "Maybe something like The Free Heights." The liquor is loosening her tongue a bit, and she grins in Verik's direction as she adds: "Why so silent? Don't you want to add some suspect names to the selection board? The Scant Mounds maybe? Or The Bare Lands?"
Taisper sits munching slowly on a cut of meat, taking his time with it as if it were the last steak he'd ever eat. As usual he has had no alcohol. "How about just "Freedom?" Instead of saying the word in another language, why not use one that pretty much all of the types of people we'd want to attract would know?" He shrugs, then gets up and goes over to the window. He stands there for a bit, watching the storm.
"Are you sure about the aura?" ...what did she mean by that of course I'm certain I have always seen them always UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY since basically forever, right? There was that shopkeeper in Goose Alley and then the crazy dwarf at the construction site there NEVER AGAIN was going to "This boggard hasn't broken any laws, despite his evil, he may never break any laws." unh and that?! laws?! do they matter when a thing is...but what if I have to find some other thing NEVER BACK or person and deal with a...and talk to a..."Thats a terrible burden" TERRIBLE BURDEN what? I don't even know what that was supposed to mean, I don't "you are lead astray" no I'm not! I'm not! LED ASTRAY I'm not! I know what I see I LED ASTRAY I am not I
"I'm not!" Taisper clamps his hand over his mouth and looks around, terribly embarrassed. "S-sorry! Sorry you guys. Just, uh, thi-thinking. Carried away..." He trails mumbling off. Maybe the thunder covered his voice. Maybe not.
but what does that mean 'am i sure'? of course i am TERRIBLE BURDEN it was always thus I never had any doubt I mean if UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY I had any doubt I never would have made it through Hunting UNIQUE
School
OPPORTUNITY
I...I would...I wouldn't have...if I stopped to-to think, I...Oh no.
LED ASTRAY
Taisper's face goes ash-white.
What have I been doing? It's in my...my head, though...the rightness, the visions...what's going on?
'Although I was rather partial to Rhydiad, I can see you points. Rather than name the nation, lets start with what will be important at first anyway. Our capital, our first fortress and settlement. Our lands will be named after that until we claim and control enough to be a small barony anyway. And naming the city in Common certainly sounds a good idea. Though slightly morbid, I'm partial to 'New Hope,' though I'm not sure why.'
Tandlara gives Taispar a strange look when he has his outburst, her large green eyes looking intently at the young man, she continues to look at him as the conversation goes on.
"New Hope! Very grand, I do like it! heh - mom would probably berate me for being melodramatic, but it's good." The liquor definitely loosens her thoughts and lips slightly.
Verik grins at Jemini, clearly pleased to have her attention. "We could name it 'Spoiled Princess' in honor of Jemini! How's that translate into Celestial, Taisper?" He laughs, clearly amused by his own joke. The cleric has come a long way from the awkward young man unsure of his place in the group, happy to be accepted by them without question. "While I don't know if any of these names will pass Abadar's muster, there's value in a name. It has to be something that the citizens can believe in and internalize, something that they can proudly claim as their own. That's what we have to try to get. Every name has associated thoughts and feelings: 'Absalom' brings forth thoughts of civilization, 'Cheliax' of the Hellknights, 'Brevoy' of the Aldori swordlords. Our nation should stand for the ideals we believe in and evoke them, but shouldn't necessarily named after them."
Flushed checks, glazed eyes and a soft smile indicate that the alcohol is starting to reach Berrins head as he sits contently by the fire nursing his tankard. Mis-hearing Verik's jab he snickers and gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Why you dirty little devil." he laughs, amazed at the timid cleric's sudden cock-suredness. Suddenly his face lights up like a candle halfway through a sip and he half stands in exitement grunting as he finishes swallowing. Grabbing Verik by his shoulder he leans, grinning, right into his face. "We could name it Virgin's Retreat in honor of you!" Berrin laughs so hard at his own joke that he ends up loosing his balance and falling flat on his back. Having trouble catchig his breath between laughs Berrin crawls back onto his stool still cluthching his tankard wich, amazingly enough, he didn't spill a drop out of during his tumble. "Oh! Oh! I got another one!" he bathes out his arms and waits for dramatic effect. ". . . ." His brow furrows and he plods back down, "Nope. I lost it." he mutters in disapointment and turns his attention back to his tankard.
Verik immediately turns a bright, bright red and starts to stammer helplessly. "I, I'm, uh, I mean, I have!" Flustered almost to the point of tears, he tries to salvage a little face. "It's none of your business who I do and do not spend my time with and what we choose to, ah, do during such intercourses - I mean interactions!" He sorely looks down into his cup, examining it thoroughly.
Zander seems quiet during the exchange, but puts a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let them get you down. There's always going to be time and opportunity in the future." He pauses, the corners of his smile coming up as he waits a beat. "I mean, you could make yourself your own headband of illusion to try and get better looking!" He piles on poor Verik, joining in on the teasing at his expense.
Jemini chuckles at Verik's and Berrin's quips - and eagerly ears in to hear his second suggestion; but it got lost to the gods of liquor. "We could just combine all the ideas: how does 'Rapture' strike you?"
Tandlara watches Berrin fall over with a frown, taking another small sip of her alcohol, her first cup still mostly full. AS he stumbles back to his chair, she smiles reassuringly at Verik, electing not to join in in his abuse.
'Rapture. It's a bit off-putting. The main river through this land is the Shrike yes? If we are to name a place that will come to signify our ideals, it is likely that we will start on the banks of the river, for towns need water. Perhaps Shrikehold, or Riverton, or something simple and aproachable to all kinds of people.'
Lost in thought staring into his tankard Berrin looks back up as Tandlara tones down the levity. "We could go for Skaldic names as well. A strong, straightforward language. Let's see..." he glances at the ceiling and licks his lips, trying to recall what little he knew of the language. "How about Skjadvirki Shield-fortress I think.. Or maybee Skjaldborg? Shield-City.. Strong and simple."
Looking around Bokkens cabin he sighs, "Or we could try to make the name emulate the lands inhabitants? Mad-house or Asylum.." he thinks aloud, remembering Bokken and Orlivanch.
"Maybe we should put it to the vote? We'll be tossing around names all night long without resolve otherwise." She struggles a bit, but manages a reasonable list of suggestions:
- Keystone
- Saorshe
- Layseve
- Reedhea
- Shieldwall
- Haven
- Freedom
- New Hope
- Riverton
- Skjaldborg
'Good plan Jemini. Its not like this sets it in stone, and we could all do with some sleep, its been a draining few days despite the lack of drama.'
Tandlara purses her lips for a moment, taking an inordinate amount of time to think before continuing.
'I'd probably favor Rhyddia, or Reedhea, Keystone or Haven myself.'
Berrin shifts to sitting on the floor proping hinself against the stool he was sitting on, shifting around to get comfortable he pulls his blanket overhimself and shoves Reggie off when he comes over to lick his face. "I'm not sure we realy need to hurry the decicion along really. It's not like the nation will be founded tomorow." he says, obviously not quite believing it yet that the founding of a new nation could be just around the corner. "But if you must Jemini, I'm feeling partial to Haven, sounds calm and inviting." he finishes with a yawn, obviously ready to go to sleep nursing his tankard.
"Haven is a great name... let's sleep on it. The liquor is enough to dull out the noise of the storm, I'm up for a good night's sleep." Berrin's yawn is infectious, making Jemini follow suit. She changes into her nightshirt and makes her bedroll comfortable, drifting off before long.
"..mhmm.. ..sure Jemini.." Berrin mutters in replie as he stares wistfully, through half closed eyes, as Jemini dresses for bed. With a sigh he shifts and spots Taispar standing by the door. "Hey Taisper. Give me a kick when you want to hit tha sack, ok?" Settling down he falls fast asleep, vivid dreams making him shift and grunt as his eyes fliker and his breathing goes from regular to fast and back again.
The expedition wakes up groggily in the morning, with the storm having passed over them in the night. Despite how much of Bokken's ale they consumed, none of them feel in any way sickened in the morning. The dwarf's skills are truly extraordinary when it comes to brewing, his madness notwithstanding.
Verik is the first one up, praying to Abadar in a quiet corner of the cabin. The morning is a cool one, fresh after the great storm. The whole world seems fresh and new, with limitless possibilities. There are only four days left until Taxfest, and they can be back at Oleg's by the end of the day.
Off for his usual exercises, Taisper thinks on last night's conversation as he jogs through the nearby fields. I need to wrap my head around this or I'm going to start doubting myself like Verik says he doubts himself all the time, and then where will we be? The last thing we need is two completely unsure followers of Abadar bumbling around. He vaults easily over a dry creekbed and speeds up towards the edge of the woods. Once there he finds a tree with a sufficiently low branch for him to switch to pull-ups, and dives in.
It's as if...ever since Orlivanch. Again. Still. Always. Ever since that, I feel like I can't trust any of them. I'm still so edgy. I don't wanna talk around Jemini or Verik. How can they change so quickly? They act all nice until the second they feel I've stepped out of line and then... And now Tandlara's starting in on me. Every time I ask a question, or think I'm close, I get more questions thrown back at me. How can people live like this? Am I really so wrong about things? How can I be when I feel the Keeper in my heart? The Lawgiver's hammer beats there.
He finishes his set, and drops lightly to the ground, breathing hard from the exertion, but also feeling that much more alive because of it. He looks around at nothing in particular, then stares hatefully at the ground. "Orlivanch." He spits the word out like a curse. "I killed you, you thrice-damned madman. Destroyed you before you could ruin anymore lives. Yet your revenge on me seems to continue day-to-day. But I say this; I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you have the last laugh. I'll figure this out yet."
He begins his second set. I'll figure this out yet.
Tandlara rises and sets to cooking, not having consumed even an entire cup of ale she isn't aware of its unharmful aftermath and leaves a tin cup of water near Berrin's resting place, shooing Reggie and bringing him over to her, despite Riddleskin's unhappy glares at the thyalacine.
She hums and sings gently to herself as she works, and though she is no diva or bard, the tune is haunting and pretty. All elven songs are dirges, to what we lose as time flashes by. Hymns to thsoe we survive my derfah used to say, Tandlara smiles and thinks of home and her long youth for the first time in a long, long time.
Taisper returns from morning exercises, flush with exertion. He hears the telltale splashings of Verik bathing in created water off behind a small stand of trees and shrubs, and continues in through the door. Seeing the others just beginning to arise, he calls out a subdued greeting. "Mornin' all." He is brought up short, however, when he sees Tandlara's large green eyes looking at him.
"...Tandlara." He gives the elf a curt nod. Not. Now. He adds mentally. "How are you guys all feeling today? Verik's up so I'm assuming the hangovers must not be too bad..." The inquisitor asks mildly as he heads to the washroom to clean up a bit.
Coming back out, drying off, he looks from person to person. "So'd you guys name the nation last night? I admit I kinda wasn't paying attention after a little bit." He smiles ruefully. "Sorry. But naming Big Things like that isn't probably my strongest suit anyway, I don't think."
"Taisper! You're back!" Jemini's in a great mood this morning; the passing of the storm taking with it whatever brooding thoughts may have accompanied her. "The name isn't settled in stone yet - but 'Haven' is certainly making a great run at the moment. I think that is a good choice, at that. Strong but secure."
She tilts her head a moment, her hair falling generously around her cheeks, "Now that you mention it... - I can't really say there's much of a hangover. None at all in fact." She tilts her head back and forth tentatively, a bit of wonder in her voice: "That's quite rare. Bokken must be quite the brewmaster."
Berrin wakes with his usual asortment of grunts, yawns and strtetches, rising with his hair in tangles from tossing the night before he smatters his lips and is plesantly surprised by the tingling aftertastes of Bokkens' brew. Seeing the water mug he snatches it up without question and washes his mouth, gurgling and spitting before swallowing the rest. Batting Reggie away he rises and heads for breakfarst with a murmured 'morning' to those present.
"You didn't miss much Taisper. It's not like founders day is tomorow so no worrys. Did any of the names catch your fancy?"
'Good morning Dear One, how were your excercises?' Tandlara smiles at the young man, clearly infected by the cheer of the others at avoiding hangovers.
Tandlara continues to hum as she serves the mornings meal to everyone, grinning at Verik as he gingerly tests his head as if distrusting his lack of a hangover.
She sits back and a little apart to eat, Riddleskin in her lap, his eyes glued to Taispar as she hums away and watches the party wake and chat.
Taisper picks up a bit of food and leans against the far wall. He nods at Jemini and replies to both her and Berrin; "Freedom and New Hope and Haven all sound pretty good. Hopefully we can continue to make this place worthy of such words." To Tandlara he says "It was good, it was good. Thanks. I can feel the increased pace and added repetitions are helping. I've also taken to trapping while I work, and the extra meat is also helping give me a bit more mass, I think, plus it works out my tracking and survival skills. It's hard, I'm not always successful, but it's good practice for a lot of reasons. I hope eventually to be able to catch enough to feed us all, like Zander and Berrin have been doing." He smiles hopefully.
Absent-mindedly, he takes out his hunting knife and cleans it with a bit of blade oil before taking a whetstone to it as it has obviously seen a fair bit of use recently. If he notices Riddleskin's attention, he gives no indication of this.
"Let's get going then - today is filled with good omens. We have a festival to prepare for and attend," and with a satisfyingly grim expression she adds, "and then a bandit lord to bring to justice."
Tandlara nods along withi Jemini's suggestion and and cleans up after breakfast, then gathers here gear as the others put on their various types of armor.
Once all is ready she leaves, and closes the door of Bokken's fully behind her, before saddling and mounting Avansatra, the group have become expert at the morning rituals, and are quickly on the mountain trails that will lead them back to Oleg's.
'I look forward to returning. Taxfest should be enjoyable, its sounds increasingly like many of the locals will arrive. However, many of the locals are bandits in the Stag Lord's employ. I think we need to assume he'll know about our festival.'
"hmmm... perhaps we should not openly discuss our plans to assault his fort during the festivities. "
The expedition sets out from Bokken's, making their way down the side of the mountain back towards the valley. They cut around the face of the mountain, its craggy surface stripped bare by the huge storm. It only takes a few hours before they make it to the forests to the east of the mountain.
Reggie whines as he trots alongside Berrin. The thylacine is upset by something, but it might just be its discontent at the travel. Its behavior is very dissimilar to how it acted upon smelling the unknown threat several days prior.
With the sun overhead and the last vestiges of cool air baking away, the expedition stops at a creek to water the horses. Berrin's horse rushes forward, intent on getting cooled off in the water. He bucks wildly to get in, rearing up and dipping down to get Berrin off.
Berrin hangs on and leaps into the water, avoiding an embarrassing and wet splash into the creek. His boots are soaked with cold water as his equine companion happily snickers and bathes in the water.
Berrin hollars at the horse, obviously upset. Berrin kicks water at Bessie and stalks off ashore, plodding down under a tree a pulls his boots of and pours the water out before tossing them to the side. "Gods damned, blasted, smelly beast." he mutters in the shade, sulking.
Jemini jumps off her horse, stumbling as she lands. "Now now, he's just powerful and untamed, like you," she tells Berrin, " - I think you two are quickly becoming best of friends." She takes another look at Bessie frolicking in the water. "In fact I doubt he'll let most other people even sit on him."
'I once heard it said that a true warhorse can be recognised by its spirit. That horse is bred for biting face and charging orcs across the field of battle. She would only accept someone who can fight her, and keep her in line. I think your doing admirably!'
Tandlara smiles, and dismounts gracefully, alighting gently on her softly booted feet.
'Reggie seems upset,' She approaches the thyalacine with a hand extended peaceably.
"Mutt just got indigestion," Jemini's kind air doesn't fully extend to canines, particularly not Reggie. Though she does look on with a bit of concern as Tandlara looks after the dog-a-like.
Taisper frowns at Tandlara's observation and looks around. "I dunno. He was like this on the way in, wasn't he?" The inquisitor hops down off his horse and looks around, checking tracks, eyeing his surroundings.
Berrin sniffs and stares sideways at the horse as it tosses it's head and splashes water, it's obvious by the straightning of his back and a slight puffing of his chest that Jemini's and Tandlara's words make Berrin feel better. "Yeah, maybee I should'nt have named him after a girl then." he thinks aloud.
Standing up Berrin colects his boots, skightly dryer from laying in the sun, and pulls them on. Going over to the edge of the river he tries clicking his tounge to call the horse over. Berrin hardly notices as Bessie compleatly ignores his attempts of comunication, his mind spinning from trying to think of a name better fitting for such a strong horse. 'Thumper? No, sounds stupid.. He's not stupid... ...Charger?.. ..To plain... Faxi? Skinfaxi? To foreign.. Oh, hells...'
As much as Taisper might try to spot trouble, it is a beautiful day. The weather is as good as anyone could ask for. Verik seems to be enjoying himself, feeding Virtue and whispering to it. He looks around and says to the others, "We should commission a painter to capture the landscapes of Haven (or whatever we choose to name it, with Abadar's approval). It would be valuable in trying to recruit settlers."
Zander snorts at him. "Yeah, because they're going to decide based on that rather than being able to have a place to raise their family in safety and peace. As beautiful as these lands are, it's not a high choosing point on settling to an entirely new place."