The day was unseasonably warm in Restov as the sun crept past it's zenith. The streets of the city were busy as people returned from lunch. Children raced through the legs of the adults, some simply for fun in a game of chase and some for more sinister reasons as tiny knives flashed and purses fell into waiting hands. As it was the middle of the summer this far north the day was very long and while the southern lands would be coming to the end of their work day the people of Rostland are born of sterner stock and continue working and playing late into the bright night.
At the intersection of two streets a group gathers to watch two gaudily dressed young nobles dance around each other, blades flashing and clanging to the accompaniment of cheers and insults from the crowd. Both young men were sweating mightily but grinning as they participated in the time honored sport of their forefathers. On either side of the circle the crowd had made stood two older men, each dressed similar to one of the boys. They eyed each other as their students contested, their silent battle of wills unnoticed by all.
The city was a large affair with sprawling streets and buildings of a dozen diffferent styles, the most common being taldan. A large number of manors overlooked the Shrike River to the south, each a statement to the pride and arrogance of an ancient nobility stretching back hundreds of years. Commericial traffic on the river crowded this side as boats unloaded seal skins and furs from further north and picked up food stocks to take back with them to the rugged Issia just south of the Lake of Mists and Veils.
At the opposite corner of the duel stood a tall inn with a steady flow of workers and merchants in an out. A sign hanging over the door was a gold painted harp and merry music could be heard floating out from within. A sign tacked to the board next to the door proclaimed this as a meeting spot for groups looking to travel south and test their mettle against the wild Stolen lands.
Inside the inn the bright sunlight is cut off, temporarily leaving you blinded as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Once your disorientation passes you see clean counter tops of gleaming mahogany lined up with worn but well cared for wooden stools. Scattered throughout the surprisingly large room are several large tables able to seat up to six people. Against the walls were booths designed for smaller groups and each had a bright red curtain drawn to one side but able to untied and pulled across for a semblance of privacy.
The owner of the inn, a heavyset human in the later years of his life, steps up with a warm smile. Standing just a shade under six feet he moves with the strength and grace of a lifetime soldier and you can see the rippling muscles in his forearms as he wipes his hands off. His brown eyes look at you knowingly and he smiles. "Welcome to the Golden Harp! I be Master Damwaith but ye can call me Ervy!" he says with a wink. "What'll it be?"
Standing a little shorter than Ervy's height, she returned his smile. "A plate of the special of the day and some tea, please."
"This way," he motioned for her to follow.
Gracefully she followed, scanning the room with her mix-matched eyes as he lead her to a table. Sitting down with a quite 'thank you', Aleidi continued to survey the room. She paused briefly on the ones that interested her before moving on, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
'Hm, I wonder who would be the most fun to mess with?'
"New beginnings" - Reknar pondered to himself, as if he heard Lucian's voice in his head - "Making a difference" - it sounded again, the remnants of a conversation held not so long ago, just before he left Absolom.
The weight in his backpack was a poignant reminder of his old friend - he had stuffed it with books - "One can never know too much my friend" - it was surprising how he ever managed to maintain his joviality and optimism after all that they had been through together, but the man seemed to look ever forward, and some of it had definitely rubbed on Reknar, though not that much...
As he crosses paths with the young boys trading blade slashes, more than one look is drawn his way, as the huge man seems veritably an implement of warfare - two well used, enormous hafted polearms lay across his backpack in easy reach; multiple weapons dotting his simple, travelling attire - a mace to one side, a dagger and a sling to the other, all complemented by a well polished but dented steel shield, strapped to his arm.
In spite of all the gear carried, he is walking casually, sporting only a light chain armor to protect his torso - his massive frame seems to have no difficulties in carrying the great load, as his horse plods along behind him, unencumbered.
His dark hair is somewhat disheveled due to the days on the road, and his skin is quite tanned by the sun - none of it dims the glow in his dark, black eyes as he observes the two nobles engaged in combat, offering a sneer and shaking his head with a grim smile.
Across from the small plaza stood the inn - Good place as any to have a drink I guess - he thought as he opened the doors to peer into the gloom beyond. It looked welcoming to be honest so, tying the horse at the pole outside, he entered.
At the inkeeper's greeting, Reknar offers a rough smile - "Well met then, friend Ervy. Get me a flagon of your coldest ale if you will? I have some dust in my throat that needs some serious cleaning. As for eating..." - he pauses for a moment, then adds - "I will leave the choice in your hands, but make it something hearthy" - the smile never leaving his face.
He looks for a free table right in the common room, preferably next to a wall where he can lean his polearms to. Laying his gear down, he takes a seat and watches the common room with interest.
"New beginnings indeed Lucian" - he mutters to himself.
Sitting at her table, Aledi arched an eyebrow as newcomer entered. Chuckling some to herself, she went back to her subtle messing with various people with sounds that were not really there.
"So much fun." she whispered, eyes lit up with glee.
Shalira smiled when she entered. That atmosphere of adventure and departure in the air was captivating. One could almost forget the difficult political situation in Brevoy or the strange disappearance of the noble house that supposedly ruled this land. What had started as a wild idea began to slowly take shape: "I am gonna come for you, dad."
When she entered the reflection of evening sun on the armor of the young duelists succumbed to flickering imprints of purple squirrels dancing in her eyes in the relative darkness of the tavern. Amongst them the host appeared while she was still standing at the entrance to get used to the light, scanned for prospective companions and took the colourful life in.
His welcome was a bit too simple for her taste - "Success through grace" echoed the motto of her human family through her mind. Nevertheless the heartiness of it did its magic on Shalira. She responded with an elegant, playful indication of a curtsey and replied: "Well met, Master Damwaith. My name is Shalira - scout on the search for an opportunity to explore the unclaimed lands. I should very much like some wine with water and whatever stew you have currently on the fire." She swallowed the "Lebeda" in the very last moment. She didn't want that to affect people's oppinion on her.
She let her look briefly slip through the room again, now that her eyes had become used to the light. This was a good moment for getting to know people.
"Of course m' dear of course!" Ervy says before leading you deeper into the inn. He pauses for a moment to look around for the best table. Seeing many free spots at a table occupied only by a single fighter looking type with a stack of weapons against the wall Ervy swerves over and pulls a chair out for Shalira. "Here we go. Good Master I would like the chance to introduce Scout Shalira, a lass looking to join an adventerous crew with aims on the southern lands. Ye also have an air of adventure around ye so lunch is on the house!" he claims before moving off to the kitchen to gather Shalira's requests. He returns a few minutes later with a hearty beef stew and two goblets, one filled with chilled water and the other with a smooth white wine called Riesling, a local variety brewed from a hearty white grape that was extraordinarily resistant to cold.
"Here ye go lass. Both of you enjoy!" he says with a bright smile before moving off to help other customers.
"Thank you, I already feel perfectly welcome and at home here... Ervy!" said Shalira as he offered her the lunch for free and even pulled the chair out for her. She was positively surprised - she had by no means expected such friendliness. Given the lovely harp music on top of it she was pretty sure that this was the place she would visit again, whenever she were in Restov. She put her bow and quiver down next to Reknar's weapons and, as elegant as one who carries a sword on either side can, took place and put a streak which had 'accidently' slipped out of her hair band back in its place.
"And who might you be?" she turned to Reknar. She had yet to figure out whether or not she found him attractive. He had a remarkable presence and she certainly liked big, strong, rough and somewhat elder men, but as it was with mixed blood, she also liked elven men with their eternal youth and their almost femine features by human standards. But she would certainly like him to... she stopped that line of thought and continued: "And, if you forgive my inquisitiveness, what drives you here? Quite an arsenal you carry there... not quite the league as the boys outside. Or myself for that's worth."
Irritated she turned her had to the side. She could have sworn there was some kind of whisper right next to her. But there was nothing but the weapons. She turned her head to the other side and caught the look of a strange, radiantly beautiful human woman smiling at her - though it was a somewhat mischiveous smile. She hated to admit it, but that woman's hair was probably more beautiful than her own, as long as it was.
Automatically she returned the smile. "How-do-you-do, miss..." mumbled Shalira when Ervy came back with her food and turned back Reknar.
Watching as the woman sat down with the man with the pole arms, Aleidi watched as she ate out of the corner of her eye waiting for both of their attention to be away from the pole arms. She smiled when the woman's green eyes met her blue and green eyes. The moment they turned to their food, she decided it was time. Having a bit of fun, she whispered "Lithsizi" under her breath as she made some hand signs beneath the table The sound of the pole arms falling sounded behind the fighter near his polearms. With one last glance she went back to her food, watching out of the corner of her eye. Smiling on the inside feeling very mischievous, "Let's see how this plays out. Could be really fun."
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Outside, the clomp of horse hooves and the snort of steeds is a common enough sound. Through the street-facing windows a rider on a dark horse can be seen dismounting, the loud clatter of armor rattling with his landing on the street. The steed is tied up, its shadow cast across one of the windows before its head dips down towards a troth to drink. Inside the tavern, the conversations continue unabated with the din of voices and clinking glasses a persistent backdrop.
The tavern doors open, spilling daylight around the silhouette of a tall, armored man looking as though he's been on the road for some time. Black and red lacquered armor might have at one time been trimmed with gold leaf, but most of it has chipped away and faded, revealing the bare metal beneath, much as the scars and scrapes across the armor do. As he walks in, chainmail beneath the plate armor jingles, boots leave billowing clouds of road dust in their wake.
"Welcome to the Golden Harp!" The large man behind the bar greets loudly, the same greeting he gives to all his patrons with just as much enthusiasm each time. "I be Master Damwaith but ye can call me Ervy!"
The rider looks up to the older gentleman, offering him a polite nod where he stands paralyzed by indecision near the door. Mud and road dust covers the rider, clings to his tangled black hair and cakes on the longest parts of his tattered and in some places threadbare crimson cloak. Eventually, the knight strides across the bar, one gauntleted hand kept on the pommel of the battered cavalry saber sheathed at his side. Standing between two stools, the rider leans onto the bar and offers a look down its length towards the other patrons, then up to Ervy.
"Water," comes out of parched lips as the rider meets Ervy's eyes. "An' if you've the time, I've a couple questions." He keeps his voice down, enough at least to not intrude on the conversations of the others at the bar. There's a coarseness to the rider's voice, a roughness like burlap and canvas where many knights strive for silk and linen. It sounds like how he looks.
"Of course good sir!" Ervy says before bustling to the back. He returns a moment later with a metal pitcher of water that gives off clouds of cooled air. He makes a plain metal tankard appear from under the bar and pours the chilled water in before sliding it over to the weathered rider. "What brings ye to Restov if ye don't mind me askin'?"
His plain brown eyes give the rider the once over and he gazes knowingly at him. "If ye be wantin' some grub, we've had a steady business the past few weeks and I might be havin' a plate or two of good hearty steak that be goin' to waste."
"Thank you, I already feel perfectly welcome and at home here... Ervy!" said Shalira as he offered her the lunch for free and even pulled the chair out for her. She was positively surprised - she had by no means expected such friendliness. Given the lovely harp music on top of it she was pretty sure that this was the place she would visit again, whenever she were in Restov. She put her bow and quiver down next to Reknar's weapons and, as elegant as one who carries a sword on either side can, took place and put a streak which had 'accidently' slipped out of her hair band back in its place.
"And who might you be?" she turned to Reknar. She had yet to figure out whether or not she found him attractive. He had a remarkable presence and she certainly liked big, strong, rough and somewhat elder men, but as it was with mixed blood, she also liked elven men with their eternal youth and their almost femine features by human standards. But she would certainly like him to... she stopped that line of thought and continued: "And, if you forgive my inquisitiveness, what drives you here? Quite an arsenal you carry there... not quite the league as the boys outside. Or myself for that's worth."
Irritated she turned her had to the side. She could have sworn there was some kind of whisper right next to her. But there was nothing but the weapons. She turned her head to the other side and caught the look of a strange, radiantly beautiful human woman smiling at her - though it was a somewhat mischiveous smile. She hated to admit it, but that woman's hair was probably more beautiful than her own, as long as it was.
Automatically she returned the smile. "How-do-you-do, miss..." mumbled Shalira when Ervy came back with her food and turned back Reknar.
Reknar had taken notice of the woman as soon as she entered the establishment - both for her attire, her looks, and... Heck, it was what he had been trained to do, evaluate his surroundings, and stay in control.
As she sat down on the same table, he took notice of her gear and attire, and didn't even realize he was absent minded again - [bi]You don't always need to be in control - "Some people are worth meeting, and you will never know if you don't give them a chance" - the familiar words echoed in his head, the long standing argument if one can ever have enought friends... Or acquaintances.
"I am Reknar" - he responded - "Well met to you Shalira" - raising his glass in compliment with a smile - "I guess so many questions deserve a couple straight answers" - he continued with a good natured jest - "Those outside... They are just boys being boys I guess, probably never seen real combat, but I'll give it to them that they seemed quite fit and well trained - that alone is worth a praise"
Offering to serve her food, he continues - "May I?"
Then nodding to the weaponry behind him, against the wall, he adds - "All this here, I guess you are right though I had never given it much consideration" - he laughs more openly now - "It is quite the arsenal isn't it? All stuff picked up here and there. I have found them to be useful in more than one situation so I just keep them closeby just in case. And as far as usefulness goes, they actually may come in handy if what I hear about the Southlands is true. I am planning on..." - hs voice trails off.
Standing and spinning around rapidly in mid sentence, one hand on the mace at his waist, the other extended as if to catch the falling weapons, Reknar stops short, as he realizes everything is in place - "What the..."
Turning around slowly, he eyes the room carefully - checking for anything out of place, but cannot find anything abnormal. Sitting down again, he shakes his head - "Guess I have beenb travelling for longer than I thought, could just swear that the arsenal was all tumbling down... Wouldn't be the first time though" - he smiles.
Turning again to Shalira, he contnues - "Now... Where was I? Ah yeah, I am planning on heading southbound, looking for... Opportunities, I guess one can call it that. What about yourself?"
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Glancing over his shoulder to the sound of clattering wood and metal, the rider arches one brow and narrows his eyes, looking over the leaning weapons. His attention lingers on the table nearby at the bewildered soldier inspecting the still-standing polearms. After a moment of scrutiny, he turns back to the Ervy.
"Work," the rider finally answers, withdrawing a folded notice from where it is tucked in his belt. Spreading the parchment out on the bar, the rider draws an armored finger across the call for experiences trailsmen and explorers to venture southward into trackless wilderness. "I'd inquire if any bands've formed for this expedition. I'm looking t'head out as soon as I can."
The rider takes the tankard of water and sips at it with a shaky hand, looking to be restraining himself from downing it all at once. "Figured this'd be as good a place as any t'start looking." The temptation of a hot meal is left hanging unanswered for the moment.
_________
(success)
Aleidi barely kept from cracking up with laughter as the fighter believed his weapons to be falling. Managing to control herself she watched as he quickly seemed to recover from it. 'Interesting...' Aleidi kept watching the two of them from peeks and from the corner of her eye. She also cast a glance at the knight at the bar. 'Maybe teaming up with one of these fighter types would be a good thing. Smiling to herself and giving a chuckle, 'But it can wait for now. This is too much fun. With a grin stretching across her face, she searched the room for a next target.
Offering her to serve her food, he continues - "May I?" (...)
It took her a moment to catch her breath and straightened up. "Of course you may!" she thought and tried not to look like a dumb human teenage girl who falls for the charm of some random noble upstart while she listened to him. Then again - half-elves age slower than humans and thus she was virtually a teenage girl, so it might be in order. She leaned back to relax.
Will Save: (Failed)
The sound of the crashing weapons took her completely by surprise, her mind focused elsewhere. It took a moment to figure what happened and what not happened. That her bow and his pole arm had fallen over and where still standing was completely beyond her.
"I heard it, too. It's got to be a Gnome. Typical Gnome prank.", she whispered to Reknar.
Louder, she turned to the room and said amused in Gnome: "Alright, try that again and if catch you, you owe me a pas..." as the man with the announcement distracted her attention: "I'd inquire if any bands've formed for this expedition. (...)
Nevertheless her eyes fell on Aleidi.
Sense Motive:
Something was about this woman, but she couldn't put her finger on it. But maybe Shalira herself was just envious for that ridiculously beautiful hair and her mind was playing tricks on her. She looked briefly around to find any Gnomes in the room and then turned her attention to the man with the announcement again.
"I am gonna do this, no matter what. Do you?" she said half-loud to Reknar. She him a smile to see whether he'd come with her, grabbed her bow and quiver again - she wouldn't just let them stand there with with a Gnome trickster around - and walked up to Mikhail.
"Sure will" - Reknar answered, following the woman's lead - "After I'm done with my meal" - he adds motioning for the food still on the table - "And you should finish yours. No business should be conducted on an empty stomach - makes for poor decisions"
Blood boiling in the veins - Reknar ponders - Much like me I guess - he smiles to himself, taking another bite, and a deep gulp of his beverage.
He had felt it right away, at the sound of the falling weapons behind him his pulse accelerated, and his reflexes seemed to increase while he could almost hear the blood rush in his ears. It had taken him a very long time to control his inner rage - he did not know if it had been there all along, but he definitely remembered the first time he felt it - "Hard work" - he remembered the words as if things had happened just yesterday, and not years ago.
But he was in control now.
He was right. But then again... this may be an inappropriate moment to hesitate. She definitely needed to take this chance if she was ever to find her father. It wasn't good to hesitate in the wrong moment, and the announcer looked like he wanted an answer.
"Well, I am certainly going to go an such an expedition." she spoke out loud towards Mikhail. She looked back to Reknar and then again to the bar. "Would you like to join us, so we may discuss this?"
She didn't quite understand whether the man was primarily looking to participate or organizing expeditions. Her left hand resting at the sheath of her longsword she motioned with her hand to the table of Reknar and herself. A table for six at which only two chairs were occupied yet. She added a somewhat insecure smile and took place again.
Highly amused in general, Aleidi watched the the others in the room. When the young woman spoke in something similar to Sylvan but not, she was able to gather that it was her reaction to the little trick. It was clear though that so far she wasn't suspected as being the culprit behind the sound. Giggling some to herself, 'It's like a female version of Mikell. He always has fun reactions.'
Taking a moment to finish her tea, Aleidi overheard them talking about going on an expedition south. 'They could be an entertaining group to tag along with. Fun to mess with.'
Getting up Aleidi strolled over towards the table, addressing more towards Shalira. "So you are heading south?" Smiling, her eyes straying to the others briefly before returning to Shalira.
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Being called to by Shalira, the rider turned with a momentary look to the pair at the table, then reached down to his hip and fumbled with gauntleted hands at a sack of coins tied off to his belt. A glance is given down to a few coins in his hand, followed by a slap of them on the bar. One copper piece, "For the water," then one silver piece, "for that steak," and finally one more silver, "for your troubles." With his meal and information paid for, the rider turns fully to the two that had approached them and looks them both up and down with a tired stare.
The armored rider ambles over to Shalira's table, one hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed saber again. Briefly, he looks over to the brown-haired woman that joined Shalira, then back to the half-elf. "A'right," he murmurs, rubbing his free hand across the bristly scruff of his untrimmed beard. "M'looking t'join up with a venture, head into th'wilderness... Is it just the two'f you?" More questions than introductions, and the rider's demeanor is more woodsman and the courtly demeanor of a knight. His attitude matches his trail-dirtied exterior as much as his voice does.
Highly amused in general, Aleidi watched the the others in the room. When the young girl talked in what was gibberish to her, she did guessed it had something to do with her little trick. Giggling some to herself, 'It's like a female version of Mikell. He always has fun reactions.'
Taking a moment to finish her tea, Aleidi overheard them talking about going on an expedition south. 'They could be an entertaining group to tag along with. Fun to mess with.'
Getting up Aleidi strolled over towards the table, addressing more towards Shalira. "So you are heading south?" Smiling, her eyes straying to the others briefly before returning to Shalira.
'Why is she smiling like this? Does she know anything I don't?' Shalira wondered. Yet she wasn't unfriendly and so Shalira wouldn't be unfriendly in turn.
Somewhat careful and with a somewhat lower voice, for she grew tired of entertaining the entire room and interrupting the harper, she replied: "Yes, I am." She looked back to Reknar and the plate with her food which she hadn't get to touch yet. Neither her food nor Reknar, but that was a thought she wouldn't follow in depth yet. "I am Shalira. I've just arrived and I am kind of hungry right now. Would you like to join us?" Reknar had probably been right, but lunch together with prospective expedition team mates might not be the best start after all.
She pushed a chair back at the table at which she was sitting and left open in what exactly she was asking Aleidi to join.
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A suspicious look is shot to the offered seat at the table by the rider, followed by a quiet sigh and a resignation of his suspicions. "Suppose so," he says quietly, looking up towards the broad-shouldered man sitting there before circling the table and positioning himself across from the burly man.
"Mikhail," the rider introduces himself, and with his accent it sounds more like Mikell. The accent is a subtle one, heard in smatterings around the River Kingdoms, typically on traders from the south. It's a blend of Ustalavanian soft R's and the tendencies towards sharp consonants found in Lastwall. It's a telling tongue.
Settling in his seat, Mikhail unhooks his saber from his belt and lays it on the table with a clatter. The fittings for it have been scuffed and dinged with considerable wear. The leather wrapping of the scabbard is peeling back in places and a once copper lion at the hilt has turned green with patina.
"M'familiar with the border-woods, trails n'such," Mikhail's eyes flit down to the battered old sword, then back up to the others at the table, brows furrowed. "Have my own horse..." He trails off, uncertain if that was necessary to even add or not.
Shalira turned to her food for just one spoon of the stew when Mikhail started to talk and listened to him. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be a man of many words - which was not a bad trait per se. Many scouts she had worked with were like that. She focused on the last few tunes of music that had played in the room and swallowed her food. Damn, she realized only now how hungry she had been.
"Well met. This is Reknar and my name is Shalira. I've just arrived here moments before you, so I didn't have much time to make anyone's acquaintance just yet. I'm a scout and pretty familiar with the wilderness as well, especially hunting Kobold gangs in the plains to the west. My grey mare, Windmane, is in a stable nearby. I am not sure how well the horses are gonna fare in a thick forest, though."
She paused briefly, took a sip of wine and tried to catch everyone's sight. "Could we go over what exactly the task is again, so to make sure everyone knows what we're getting ourselves into? And who and what else we may need to accomplish it? I mean we're talking about more than just a bandit hunt here."
She took another spoon of her stew, leaving the talking to others for now. The way she held her cutlery and sat at the table indicated a distinguished education according to the local traditions, even though she was fully aware and somewhat embarressed that she was being impolite by eating during making introductions.
Taking a seat at the table where she had empty seats on either side, "I am call Aleidi." For now, she would observe. 'Can't always rush into things.'
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Mikhail shifts in his seat at the mention of a bandit hunt, an abortive laugh bubbling up briefly. Using the distraction of Aleidi's introduction to dismantle mention of bandits, Mikhail redirects the topic. "Horses handle the terrain well, sure-footed. At least Ink is. Well bred, pricey," to someone, certainly not Mikhail. The horse was the spoils of the very banditry that Shalira was speaking of. "We stick to the trails, no problem at all. We go off the trails..." Mikhail's hand wavers in the air, indicating a so-so level of success. "Sure footed horses, they're fine.' His expression shifts into a grimace.
Mikhail tugs a folded piece of paper out of his belt again, opening it up and skimming the text before reading aloud. "Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords'f Restov, acting upon the greater good an' authority vested within them by the office'f the Regent'f the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right'f exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt.[/b]" Glancing up from the paper, Mikhail offers a brief look to Aleidi, then looks back down.
"Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east an' west an' sixty miles south'f Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also...' Mikhail skips over a little bit of it, "Nnh-- Jargon, jargon, titles, titles. Ah--" he clears his throat. "So witnessed on this 24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne."
Mikhail briefly wags the official-looking paper back and forth in the air, then folds it up again. A few rips in it, dark stains and crumpling of the paper indicates that he could probably take better care of such an important document. "You have similar papers, yes?"
"I certainly do," a voice addressed Mikhail's comment. Smiling, a tallish but slightly willowy figure in a worn cloak and robes approached, wiping away the dust from their forehead as they do. The figure tapped a pouch on their belt. "I am glad you sound familiar with the area, good master. I myself am not at all familiar. My name is Aarya, a servant of the Majestic Arshea."
Nodding to each person, Aarya glanced around the common room. It was fairly typical for such a place, from what the Paladin had seen during the journey here. There were a few confused glances from the patrons, as they attempted to guess whether Aarya was a pretty man or a handsome woman. Arshea was not a widely known or commonly held deity, and it would likely confuse most of them to discover the truth of the matter. Hopefully the companions assembled here would be more…accepting than most.
Still, this was an opportunity! To re-claim a wilderness like this was a once in a lifetime chance, and it certainly seemed an appreciate task for the training Aarya had spent so much time on. The main concern, bar the creatures that had taken the area and the bandits rumoured to be there was the worshipers of Erastil – His views on gender rolls were the opposite of Arshea’s own, and that might cause the occasional issue.
Glancing at a chair, Aarya added, ”May I sit?”
Reknar had been silent throughout most of the exchange, raising an eyebrow only when Mikhail drops his weapon loudly on the table, but then returns to his meal.
He does not speak a word as seemingly everyone in the inn seems to find a way to his table, invited by the surprising woman he had met just moments ago - Shalira.
As the uncomfortable introductions follow one another, a smile begins showing, while all the while he keeps on eating, until he finishes his meal.
Once he is done, he takes another long drink from his glass, then profits from a silent moment to pipe in - "As I see it..." - he cleans his mouth - "As I see it, it seems we are here with a common goal. Just taking a look around the table is more than enough to understand that we have different reasons to have come to this neck of the woods, maybe even no reason at all, wandering is about a good one as any other"
The man speaks with no arrogance or presumption - he seems to be simply stating facts - "It matters not. We are taking the opportunity and right of exploration within the wilds of the Greenbelt, being offered by the Swordlords of Restov - regardless of what lies beneath that, if anything, this is what you have set out to do. And I as well" - he smiles.
"So, to take it from the top, I am Reknar, I am a soldier and a survivor - I learned to swing a sword in the army, and later how to fight... Somewhere else. I have a few skills picked up here and there, so I can hold my own in a tussle, about as well as I can hold my own during a negotiation - I have taken enough hits to the face to learn a couple of lessons. One of them was that sometimes it is worth it to take a moment and exchange a couple of words, before exchanging blows"
"I really hate speeches, preferring pragmatism above all - looking around this table, I see everything I need to venture into the Southlands" - looking around the table he continues - "As she has put it herself, Shalira is a scout and familiar with the wilds, and anyone that hunts kobolds must have at least a decent skill with a blade in my book, Mikhail is familiar with the border woods and its trails - a glance at his armor and sword is enough to see they have seen much use - since he has survived long enough to be at the table having this conversation with us, I am going out on a limb and assume he is skilled with them" - he offers him a short nod.
Looking at Aleidi, he smiles - "So, it seems in spite my looooong speech, and all the introductions that came before, we still do not know everything there is to know if we are planning on moving to the wilds - I don't want to beat around the bush too much, so I'll say what everyone is thinking - we do not know each other, so we could be murderers, kings, or fishermen pretending to be wanderers - again, it matters none. But we will need to know what each one of us is capable of doing in the most straightforward way possible, so Aleidi..."
Interrupted perhaps by the third time tonight in mid sentence, Reknar's smile is wide open - "Well met Aarya, and why the hell not? Please do take a seat, as our friend Aleidi here was about to speak" - he sits back down, winking at the sorceress across the table.
Aleidi could tell the direction the conversation was going before Reknar had said it. It made sense, that they would want to know. As he was finishing up, a paladin by the name of Aarya, came in. She was only briefly concerned with the paladin's gender, because really it mattered not. Reknar offered Aarya a seat, so she waited for the paladin to be seated before she started.
"I specialize in magic and I started practicing when I was four. Growing up near The Forest, I know a bit about fey as well. Seeing as they say fey live in the Greenbelt, that knowledge should come in handy."
'I think Ithil would approve of that answer. Just what they need to know. No more.' She placed her elbows on the table and intertwined her long fingers together before resting her chin upon them. With a slight tilt of her head, her hair move some showing her slightly pointed, but still human-sized ears.
"I believe that covers things?"
"I guess so. As much as can be asked" - Reknar nods, then turning to Aarya - "And what about you friend? What are your intentions if we may ask?"
Nodding in thanks to the big human, Aarya turned to face the group. I wonder what kind of soldier you are? A tactician, or a baresark? With those polearms you are certainly no fencer. It would be interesting to find out, as tghey started to work more and more together.
"I am Aarya," the Paladin repeated, "A Paladin of Arshea. I fight with the flail as the Spirit Of Abadon prefers." Aarya gave a brief nod to the heavy flail carried next to the backpack. "I am uncertain what awaits, so I am uncertain which of my other skills will be most useful - but I am skilled at talking, when it can be done, rather than fighting. And skilled at fighting when words fail."
Pausing for a moment, Aarya added, "Also, if you are not familiar with Arshea's ways...we are not typically what one might think of in a Paladin. Some of them might even be a little bit unusual, in some. So do not expect preaching about the virtues of abstinence or the need of purity of the spirit. So long as everyone is of there own will and there are no regrets, Arseha smiles upon you."
Aarya knew many found Paladins stuffy companions, even if there skills and abilities were often welcome on the battlefield. Often they tried to enforce there own morals and code on others. Aarya had Arseha's own commandments to enforce, of course - slavers would do well to avoid these lands now! - but the majority of the carousing a party like this was reputed to enjoy would most likely pale before the ceremonies of the faithful.
All Aleidi was arch an eyebrow at Aarya's comment about how Arshea's paladins were different.
Shalira silently spooned her stew while others were talking. It hadn't been exactly polite to invite all kinds of people to Reknar's table without asking him and she had made quite a scene in the Golden Harp and destroyed much of the pleasant atmosphere. She didn't like it, there was no 'grace' in this. She had just felt that it had been time to make a move.
She looked over to Reknar and formulated a voiceless "Sorry", bowing her head slightly to the side.
Then again, it might be a good thing that the group had grown bigger now. She had been on the verge of doing things she might later regret if she had shared the table with Reknar alone, especially considering that it looked like they were going to spend a lot time adventuring together. She wasn't quite happy with his all too friendly smile to Aleidi, though.
She wasn't too happy about the rush that it suddenly came to but both Reknar and Mikhail seemed to be inclined to get starte right now. She herself had many questions still, both to the, some of which might be best answered once they reached their target area, but she felt like used as a pawn in a game of which she didn't even know the players, nor the pawns the pawns of their opponent which they would have to face.
"Lord Noleski Surtova... I wonder what he has to do with this... Who is the Lordship of Restov anyway?", she mumbled to herself, seemingly lost in thought.
Reknar suggested that everyone should keep their secret. Well, she certainly had her own, including her real motivation to go on that exploration and her human family. She had actually hoped to come clean of the latter once introductions were made - belonging to a house might be an aspect that might later be used to play each other and incite distrust. And if she was sure of one thing it was that the group had to be able to trust each other blindly on this.
One thing that she could openly stand to was her own faith. Regardless of how remote her faith for Shelyn was in Brevoy she would never again hide or even deny it. She reached for the cord around her neck and pulled out a small wooden pendant attached to it from under her chain shirt. The small, carved and lacquered disc depicted a white bird with overly long rainbow coloured tail feathers which formed an arch around it. The holy symbol of Shelyn. Her fingers ran along its edges.
"Well met, Aarya. I am Shalira." Again she had to hold herself back to not use her last name. Yet. "Arshea... I can't say I've ever heard of such an entity. Would you mind telling me what that means?"
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Aarya is met with a look of suspicion and scrutiny, the title of paladin is not one whimsically thrown around and the responsibilities of one can be difficult to associate with. Mikhail shifts a bit uncomfortably in his seat and starts to fold up the subtly blood-stained writ. "Well," he sidesteps the current topic of faith, "we'll need t'get one of our own in any case. I don't believe this particular document's valid any longer," because the original owner is dead goes unsaid.
"The armsman," Mikhail motions to Reknar, "makes a point though; on talents. Ain't much comfortable travelin' into the wilderness with people who're green behind the ears."
"Mind?" Aarya chuckled a little at Shalira's comment. "I can't imagine a Paladin alive who would not jump at the chance to tell you about there patron. In fact, for most of us, I suspect it would be cause to rise from our tombs if you asked it on our graves!"
The Paladin smiled. It was, indeed, one of the goals of most Paladins to spread the word of there patron. "Arshea is an Empyreal Lord - one of heaven somewhere between an Angel and a God. Not fully divine, they are still powerful enough to offer aid to mortals they see fit to serve there purpose, although we are not as common as servants of, say, Sarenrae or the Inheritor."
Aarya paused for a moment. "The Majestic Arseha's providence is freedom. I am to fight for the oppressed, those who need help. However, Arshea specializes more in a sexual freedom than others. The freedom from gender, and gender rolls, is a large part of the Host of Delectation's mandate to the faithful. Hence my earlier comments - sex between willing participants is a form of worship to me." Laughing, Aarya added, "So not the most traditional form of prayer."
Nodding to Mikhail, the Paladin added, "Where can we find a fresh version of such a document? My instructions were to take this one and make use of it, although I am unsure of how my order attained it. I hail from Magnimar - I am unclear about the local customs on such things."
Filling away Aarya's information about the religious ways of the followers of Arshea, Aleidi chose to sit there and listen to the others. As far as she was concerned, she had shared what they needed to know about what she could do. Now as far as where to go though...
Shalira hadn't made up her mind completely about Aarya yet. In image came without asking into her mind: A temple full of paladins celebrating a sexual orgy and faking lust without ondoing their armor. The air was filled with more clanking of steel than moans, and those were desperate rather than an expression of satisfaction and honest animal desire.
The gender role thing puzzled her as well. So men were to have children and women to fertilize men? That didn't sound right. And though Shalira knew that it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience she would insist on giving birth to her own children even if it was optional.
She wiped it away. "Well, that sounds... intriguing. I suppose I'll play the shy and virtuous one for now and bug you later on this."
She let her look include everyone in the group. "There has got to be some administration of some kind which issued this charter in the first place. I would prefer to shed some like on what this is supposed to mean anyway. It sounds kinda silly to me to issue charters just for the permission to fight bandits... Let's ask Ervy where the administration is and who is in charge of the city anyway. There was a sign at the door that this is an official meeting spot, so he's bound to know.
For all I know House Regorvia - that is every single member of the house - has entirely disappreared. I am kinda surprised they manage to keep things running here with the ruling class disappearing from one day to the next. But someone has to have a say here. But for the time being I have no idea who or what the Swordlord of Restov might possibly refer to."
She wasn't the kind that played court games. How could she. Yes, she was a Lebeda, but not even entirely human. But. This riddle just intrigued her.
How could they all disappear. Surtova wasn't behind this she guessed, it was probably beyond their power and secondly, even if they did it they would have taken greater advantage of it. It may be that they deliberately disappeared to prevent some greater evil; the fact that things still ran smoothly seemed to enforce that impression. Someone had taken great care not to damage Rostland... and Shalira hoped it remained that way. The last thing she wanted is war, directly followed by an absolute rule of the Surtovas.
She kept painting all kinds of romantic stories in her mind, but she had just no idea what had actually happened and what was going on right now behind the scenes.
She hid her lips behind the glass of wine in front of her and whispered, hardly audible: "And I bet one streak of my hair that it's not a member of House Surtova. Not yet."
Then she looked around for Ervy and waved to him as soon as she saw him. "I know you guys just want to get going, but there are a few things I am curious about. Just let me ask a few questions. It won't take long."
The old human saw Shalira's wave and smiled before putting down a glass he had been drying and came out from behind the bar. He stopped a couple times to chat with some of the customers who acted like they were regulars, laughing several times before clapping them on the shoulder and moving on. "What can I do for ye lass?" he asked as he came up to the table. "Are any of ye needing more refreshments?"
Aleidi:
"Yes, I would like to order two bottles of this wine for the entire table. It may be early but I think we may have a union to celebrate and something to cheer on." She cleared her throat and and tried her most radiant smile on the friendly old man.
"I need your help with a few questions." A cheap trick but letting an elderly, good hearted man believe they could save a damsel in distress usually worked, especially when she didn't have to fake sympathy. "Could you tell me who issues the charters for the exploration? Where would we have to turn to? And is the 'Swordlord of Restov' not a member of House Regorvia? I heard some pretty wild rumors of ... unlocatable family members, but things seem to be running smooth here. I hope I am not being to nosey here, but this all seems so exciting."
"I believe we just need to go to town hall for the charters. There is an application fee, and once paid they will take down our names." Aleidi calmly spoke. "Which if that is correct," she moved her gaze to Ervy, "then perhaps you could direct us the best route there."
Reknar shakes his head at Shalira as she mouths her silent apologies, then pours her another glass with a wink, whispering - "We're fine, no worries"
As Aleidi finishes her introduction, Reknar pushes the matters a tad further - "It does cover things indeed - I have fought alongside wizards more than once, and without wanting to be intrusive, let me ask about the nature of your magic - Offensive? Defensive? " - he asks - "Just wanting to know what to count on, in a tight spot. And just so you don't feel I am asking for more information than I offer, I'll tell you right away that in the fray I am quick to charge forward and take point with one of these in hand" - he motions for the polearms behind him - "Hah!! I guess I've gotten so used to being up front taking a beating, that I can't live without it"
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To Aarya he offers - " No preaching about virtue or or purity of spirit, and sexual freedom you say? Seems right on the money to me. I'll be upfront and open about this one - I do not handle fundamentalism well, have seen too many people dying defending another's convictions, and it kinda grates on me. But then again, to each his or her own path, and its not my place to comment this or that way on religious convictions..." - his thoughts seem to trail off as he stares at his glass for a few seconds - "We'll met to you then"
At Mikhail's words, he nods - "I hear you, though we all need to learn some way or another"
As Shalira reveals her will to ask more questions from Ervy, the man nods his agreement - "You are right, we do need more information. And if my mug is full, I am all in favor of continuing the conversation" - he adds while emptying the drink in front of him.
Ervy smiled at Shalira's request but there was something strained about it. "I'll be right back with those bottles!" he said. Moving away he stepped behind the bar and scanned the dozens of bottles he had ready. The entire wall behind the counter had been converted to a lattice that held easily a hundred bottles of wine and beer. He pulled down bottle after bottle, reading it before invariably placing it back and getting another. Finally he had two bottles of the same wine Shalira had in front of her and took them back through the swinging door into the kitchen. He was out a minute later with the two bottles that now frosted over with condensation from the warm air of the main room.
He placed both bottles on the table and produced a bottle opener from his pocket. With the skill of a master he popped both bottle open in mere seconds and then returned to the bar. He was back a moment later with both hands bristling with wine glasses and put them all on the table. He filled each glass with wine and handed them around the table before selecting the last open seat and sitting down.
"For charters ye be needed to head to the Town Hall, speak with Magistrate Phillips. For a small fee he'll explain the charter and assign you a region to tame and then it's up to you to do the rest." he said. He pondered her other question while scratching his chin. "Regorvia? Can't say I've heard too much about them since they vanished two years ago. Noleski doesn't seen too keen to find them either so it's anyone guess what happened to them. And anyone can be a swordlord lass, with enough skill and fame. Swordlord of Restov means you fight in the Restov style. There's also Swordlords of Mivon, those few coward s who fled when Choral and his dragons invaded two hundred years ago."
He made a flip-flop motion with his hands. "It'll get you places among the nobles but it does squat in a real fight. Pay no mind to fancy titles that nobles use lass, they die just as fast as you or I."
In response to Reknar's push for more information, Aleidi turned her gaze to him. "I focus more on messing with perceptions, though I know a couple spells to cause harm when the need arises. And when magic fails, there is always a cross-bow."
To Aleidi:
At first Shalira seemed to be somewhat distracted about her interruption and didn't look all to friendly on her. But something about her seemed to change her opinion completely around and turned her expression into a smile.
"You have beautiful eyes. Both of them. And I don't generally say things like that to women", she whispered.
To Ervy:
She was pretty sure that in Port Ice such a statement might have gotten Ervy into a lot of trouble. And even in Silverhall he might be pondered upon, though her family were traders interested in material wealth rather than political power. His boldness in this regard spoke for this city in general and Ervy in particular as far as she was concerned.
"Dragons? Well now you got my attention. But thanks for the hint. I might get back on you to hear of this... You wouldn't happen to know anyone who has encountered the bandits in the Stolen Lands and can tell the tale?"
"Well sure lass, ask any old merchant who used to travel through that region and they'll tell you about bandits. That land has been uncontrolled since before the founding of Issia or Rostland and there are bound to be worse things then bandits in those wilds." He said. He looked over as a older woman in robes with a owl on her shoulder waved him over. "'Scuse me folks, duty calls." he said as he stood up and moved away.
To Aleidi:
At first Shalira seemed to be somewhat distracted about her interruption and didn't look all to friendly on her. But something about her seemed to change her opinion completely around and turned her expression into a smile."You have beautiful eyes. Both of them. And I don't generally say things like that to women", she whispered.
Aleidi was doubtful at first at the sincerity of that comment. But she placed a small smile on her face with a whispered "Thank You" back.
Shalira looked around their 'illustrious' group. Two gloomy warriors, at least one of which she would like to get a lot closer to, a strange yet radiantly beautiful sorceress, a bright white paladin of a deity of freedom-and-sex. And herself, a mixed blood.
She checked whether everyone had a glass...
"So, you're all in this? Then I suggest we raise our glasses to it and then get to the town hall before someone else beats us to it."
She raised her glass in an elegant, almost ceremonial fashion and waited for the other's reaction.
"I am in." Aleidi gracefully, with a bit of a playful motion, raised her glass, joining Shalira. Glancing around to the others at the table she waited for their glasses to join. 'This is going to be fun'
"I would raise my glass," Aarya said with a grin, "But I never got around to getting one." With a shrug and a chuckle Aarya picked up an empty, filled it with the wine Shalira had ordered, and raised it after taking a sip. "I am with you."
Well, it would be interesting. Working with a group of strangers would be a new experience, it had to be said, but Aarya thought it intriguing. And with a little luck they would be able to make something impressive from the lands they would be claiming.
In response to Reknar's push for more information, Aleidi turned her gaze to him. "I focus more on messing with perceptions, though I know a couple spells to cause harm when the need arises. And when magic fails, there is always a cross-bow."
Reknar nods at the additional information - "Thank you. That was exactly what I was wanting to know. That way, I know where I stand before that knowledge becomes relevant"
Shalira looked around their 'illustrious' group. Two gloomy warriors, at least one of which she would like to get a lot closer to, a strange yet radiantly beautiful sorceress, a bright white paladin of a deity of freedom-and-sex. And herself, a mixed blood.
She checked whether everyone had a glass...
"So, you're all in this? Then I suggest we raise our glasses to it and then get to the town hall before someone else beats us to it."She raised her glass in an elegant, almost ceremonial fashion and waited for the other's reaction.
Filling his own glass, the man stands up looking towards all others around the table, then resting his eyes on Shalira - "Girl..." - he starts with a smile - "I am in this since you first sat on my table" - he winks, and joins his glass to the others already raised.
"Let us get this charter, and then we'll see what we are all really made of" - he finishes in a loud tone.
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Having been silent for some time after introducing the others to the notion of the charter, Mikhail finally speaks up once it looks like the decision to go present themselves as a group has come up. "M'eager t'get out of here," he admits, offering an askance look to the bar and then back to the others. "But..." one corner of Mikhail's mouth crooks upwards in a wry smile.
"M'not leaving without my steak."
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