* Cyanne swears, over the message link. "Surprise is gone. We go now!"
Cyanne douses the entire island in a cloud of golden sparkles, hoping to blind both of Akiros's archers.
She turns back to Topper. "Akiros wouldn't kill me, but he'll surely kill you. Surrender or you're dead!"
The hells? What did she want him to do? Give away that he was talking to a prisoner?
Then there was a scuffle back there. Well, it was time to go. Obviously she had went ahead and planned her escape anyhow. There was definitely something going on he didn't know about. As he was ready to go, he moved more quickly than the others. He moved toward the creek, but stopped short, trying to judge whether the rock or the fallen tree was the easier route. The rock looked easier, as he moved that way, hoping it wasn't slick with moss.
One of the bandits on the island shrieks and pops out from behind his rock, clawing and rubbing at his eyes, while the other simply glows a brilliant golden color. Daen's foot slides a little as he leaps to the rock, but he's able to continue his motion, landing roughly on the far side of the creek. There, he finds himself just a few feet from a big, dark haired bandit with half his face an old burn.
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Moving to where Kaz had discarded his axe in the mud, Luthor once more enacted the mystical gestures and chants which as always proceeded to powder an area with sleep inducing sand. In a seemingly harmless burst, the golden fragments rained down on the two bandits near Daen, making the men feel curiously drowsy in spite of the current situation.
Not waiting to see if the effect would take hold, he turned his attention to Kazimir and called out to the Paladin. "Just a moment Kazimir, I shall squire for you!" He gestured wildly at the axe, realizing that his words were less than obvious on their own.
A scowling Laliytsa watches Kazimir like a hawk. She doesn't trust this bandit man at all. Once they've got everything settled she'll have a talk with Kaz about always having a backup weapon on hand.
Of course it all goes belly up. It only surprises her in that it happens sooner than she expected. The bandit that's been outlined in gold is a tempting target. She aims her first shot at him
As Luthor chants, both men quickly become more and more drowsy. As they fall, their weapons drop from their suddenly slack hands. Laliytsa's arrow punches toward her target, only to catch a boiled leather pauldron and fly off into the water. Her shot is enough to knock him off-balance, though, and he releases his arrow too high. It flies off into the field to the southeast.
Another bandit rushes at Rask, drawing his own shortsword and shouting "Yaaargh!" at the top of his lungs. The dwarf dodges in a manner that makes it abundantly clear he's never been in a real fight before, hopping and skipping backward in a most undignified manner.
Akiros looks back over his shoulder. "Hells...'TOPPER', YOU'RE A DEAD MAN WHEN THIS IS OVER!" Turning, he steps back to where he left his blade, unlimbering a steel kite shield as he goes. Once there, he takes up a position blocking the way across and looks at Kazimir. "Call 'em off, or I'll head back there and start killing prisoners!"
It seems like Akiros doesn't want to kill anyone, but he's willing to do what it takes to get himself out of what's turned quickly into a terrible situation around him.
The blind bandit continues clawing at his eyes, trying fruitlessly to clear his vision.
Kazimir stands helpless as the situation dissolves around him, the unusual negotiation falling apart with spells and arrows. He hears Luthor yelling out to him; from the corner of his eye he sees the mage gesturing to his axe. He sees Laliytsa return fire, realizing with dread that there's little hope of this ending in anything other than a melee.
The bandit leader's words only add to his dismay, his mouth dry, his heart sinking. He's serious! I can't let that happen. "Hold fire!" he calls to the others, raising his empty hand. "He'll kill them if we continue!"
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Daen continues to crash through the underbrush, coming across the two sleeping bandits, and he draws his sword. Pointing it at the prone figures, he shouts back to the paladin. Not only did it let Kaz know that he was on the other side, but that the sleeping spell worked and it also let the prisoners know where he was, that he was close and keeping his word. "It's your call, but we now also have some prisoners."
Finally he got a look at the prisoners, and there was one amazingly beautiful woman with blue hair over there. He guessed that was the magical one with the angelic voice. Despite the battle, his heart didn't start beating fast in earnest until he saw her, but he immediately chided himself. Get a hold of yourself, there are lives at stake. Allow yourself to be distracted, and you'll lose your head as well as your heart.
Giving the other bandit back there a look of contempt, he used his magic to make his sword glow in his most intimidating fashion. If they hadn't seen something like that before, it could work to his advantage.
As Daen begins watching, Rask the dwarf takes an awkward, ill-timed swing at his attacker, shutting his eyes as he puts his weight into the blow. It goes wide, and the dwarf scuttles back away from the bandit.
'Topper' Red goes limp, realizing that he's not likely to get out of Leped's grip. A quiet descends on the battlefield, broken only by an occasional moan of terror from the blind bandit and a snore from the two sleepers.
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Laliytsa's not sure if the bandit leader is serious or not. She lowers her longbow and weighs different options and consequences. Daen's position across the river tips the scales. The half-elf's proven to be a very competent fighter; she doesn't see this other guy getting past him.
" Y'know, if prisoners are your only bargainin' chip, killin' 'em don't make no sense" Laliytsa speaks very matter-of-factly. "Takes away our motivation t'keep you alive."
"You'll kill prisoners?!" Cyanne comes out from the bushes, standing where Akiros and the others can see her clearly. She's done with hiding, done with cowering before her captor of the past four days.
She shoots a look of gratitude at the serious looking half-elf swordsmen, whose decisive act of taking prisoners has in an instant changed the battlefield.
She doesn't doubt Akiros's seriousness, but she knows she cannot surrender to him again. She sighs, exasperated. "What does it matter? If Lepod and I stay, we're both as good as dead the moment you hand us over to your Stag Lord. You told me so yourself!" She brushes her blue hair out of her face. "Akiros, at least you'd kill me cleanly."
"And what about Rask, your walking treasure chest? He's no good to you dead, though Dirty Pete here was fool enough to attack him anyway! Do you think Rask'll meekly cooperate now?"
She glances over at Rask, still holding the sword, and nods approvingly at him.
"We're not standing down. Akiros, it's over. You have two men left. We're all still capable, and we have magic on our side." She gestures at Daen's glowing sword. "Let us go. Let us take back our gear and our animals and..." She pauses, looking at the redheaded bandit whom she'd fascinated earlier. She sighs. "...and Topper. Not that I want him, but I gave him my word that he'd live if he surrendered."
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That was going so well for a moment, Kazimir laments, his heart-rate slowing as the din and beat of battle slowly ebbs to silence around him. Squinting across the dam, he sees a blue-haired woman - a prisoner? A bandit? - attempting to talk the situation to a close. "We can all walk away from this alive," he calls, hoping he sounds calmer than he feels. "At the end of the day, isn't that what's best for everyone?"
Akiros looks over his shoulder at Cyanne, then back at the archer and Kazimir. "You, wench with the bow, that's the thing. I don't think you can kill me. Not without some deaths. Besides, I don't have to kill you all to win. I just need to stay alive for a bit."
He pauses, considering Cyanne's words. "You did always remind me of my Rosilla. No. I won't walk away from this with nothing. I give you my word that 'Topper' will live." Topper moans a high-pitched moan, and Leped tightens his grip. "You don't want him. He's not just here because his poetry's awful. He never told you the things he did in Pitax."
He looks at Kazimir, obviously considering him the leader of the group. "The Stag Lord will not take kindly to this, but I'm willing to leave you breathing, with the prisoners. Here are my terms. You get your people on that side of the creek, and I'll send over the prisoners, one at a time, after Leped hands 'Topper' to Dirty. We'll ride east toward the Thorn River, and you can go any way but that." He spits into the creek. "Agreed?"
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Kazimir feels his hand clench involuntarily into a fist at the 'wench' comment; he takes a deep breath through his nose, letting the cold air ground him before he loses himself. Remember, Kazimir - words are cheap, and only a fool takes offense at such things, he tells himself silently, relaxing his hand when he feels calm again.
"Agreed," he calls finally, his voice strong and confident, "provided the prisoners can bring their possessions with them." This is as good as we could hope for, and I suppose I'll take the fall for this, he adds silently, locking eyes with Daen and nodding for him to come back across. Deadeye's bow, what a disaster! "I know not whether you be a man of honor, but I am, and I give you my word that you and your men will leave this river alive."
Finally calming down completely, he adds, "Should our paths cross again, I hope you will remember our mercy and honesty. I know I will remember yours, Akiros."
Rosilla? Joy. I remind Akiros of a woman he loved, then killed when she betrayed him... Cyanne shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the cold.
While Akiros is looking at Kaz, Cyanne points a finger at the curly haired warrior and whispers.
"Akiros has a sense of honor, but let's not tempt him. Send Rask over first... Then Lepod. The boy's been beaten daily as it is."
Though terrified of being left behind, she knows she's the logical choice to go last. She turns to Rask, and says, "Hand me the sword, friend. I'm trained, and I'll cover you while you gather your things."
Luthor had not initially realized that the sudden combat had ended just as quickly as it started, picking up the axe and taking a few quick steps forward. Finally noticing, he stopped, looking around sheepishly before realizing he was brandishing an axe. Nonchalantly tossing is on the ground again, he watched the proceedings again, thankful that for the time being, things might yet work out without bloodshed.
Through the empathic link Cyanne feels Tango's proud spark of joy. Found help!
The white mongoose, spattered in mud, bounds towards Luthor and Rikka, chittering furiously. Tango's enthusiasm, bubbling through the link, is contagious and Cyanne can't help smiling despite the danger she's in.
Akiros stares at Kazimir across the dam for a few seconds, his gaze cool but hard. He turns, shoving his longsword roughly into its scabbard and looping the shield back over his back. "Prisoners, you have five minutes to be across that bridge, with your possessions. Dwarf, you're not getting your 'fee' back, but you can have everything else you brought. The wagon's right where you left it. Maybe. Dirty, Topper, get your worthless lazy friends up. I want everything packed and us moving in twenty, or I'll have to break my word and kill you."
Rask practically shoves the sword-hilt into Cyanne's hands, white knuckles letting go of it so quickly she's barely able to get a grip. He rushes to assemble his gear, scurrying as only a dwarf can across the beaver dam. For his part, Leped releases Topper slowly, twisting his arm to elicit another pained-sounding yelp. He grabs his personal gear, a long-hafted hammer and crude hide armor, and limps toward the bridge.
Akiros stands by the bridge for a moment, nods to Cyanne, and begins tearing down his tent.
Cyanne moves with a purpose, grabbing her backpack, her weapons, her ukulele, and her horse, Volte. But Volte, after four days of being in bandit hands is more skittish than usual.
"Come on, Volte," Cyanne croons to her horse, stroking the white mare's mane. "You can do this."
But the horse, hooves dancing nervously, balks at the beaver dam and refuses to cross. Ever mindful of the five minute time limit that is ticking by, Cyanne gets increasingly more frantic as the mare won't come with her.
It's been a rough four days. Between the constant fear, the lack of sleep and not having eaten in over 24 hours, the thought of abandoning her horse here makes her want to cry.
"Can someone please help me? Volte won't come."
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They had seemingly won, but Daen didn't like it much. Akiros was up to something still. He just didn't trust the veteran. He most likely had a few more tricks up his sleeve. Even if they got away today without a scratch, there were quite a few bandits getting away from this place. They would just have to fight them in the future, most likely. Sheathing his blue blade, he kept a good eye between the bandits and prisoners to make sure that no one tried anything.
Getting these prisoners to freedom was the first priority it seemed. So Daen watched the others cross the river before following up himself. When the vision walked by, leading her horse, he stood his ground like a good soldier would. Despite to his recollection he'd never seen such grace before. Although she seemed to be flustered and the horse was following suit. He walked on by the horse, giving it a reassuring pat on the flank and shushed in her ear. "Move along now, there's nothing to be afraid of. The others are waiting for you." He spoke a low voice, quiet, that the animal had to listen instead of making a fuss.
With the swordsman's help, Volte heads across the river. Rather than look immediately at the girl who asked for help, he looked about to make sure the boy and dwarf made it across safely with their possessions as well. The urge to just pay attention to her nearly overwhelmed his sense of duty, but a quick vision of his mother, laying on her sickbed, asking him to make her proud snapped him back to reality. Besides, no creature like that would take a second look at a half-breed like me. Best put it all out of your mind.
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Seeing a muddy mongoose come bounding out of the undergrowth was certainly unexpected, and Luthor might even have been inclined to dismiss it as mere coincidence, were it not for its behavior. "Whats this now? Hello little fellow." He said with a bemused look, bending down and offering a hand for Tango to scale. Rikka for her part squeaked loudly in protest, scurrying down Luthors arms to block Tangos path, meeting the other mongoose at Luthors elbow. "Come now Rikka, manners. I should hope you recognize someone like yourself, do you not?" He tried to catch Tangos eyes as he addressed him. "Who did you come here with? The bandits?" Reading Tangos reaction, he quickly added with a chuckle, "No, I think not. One of the prisoners then perhaps?" He looked up at Cyanne as Daen moved to help her. "That one certainly looks out of the ordinary."
As Akiros notes that Volte and Cyanne are across the river, he stops watching the party and former prisoners quite so closely. Instead, he begins hurrying his own men, who (for the most part) work with a discipline that's part military formation, part anarchic chaos. Further from the creek, a few bandits pack tents and bags of food on a trio of pack-horses while others tear more tents down. Topper and Dirty prepare a group of riding horses for the sudden trip, saddling them and making certain their bits and bridles are secure.
As the bandits pack under Akiros's watchful eye, Rask the dwarf sits with his bulky arms around his legs. He stares morosely at the dam and the bandits behind it. Leped, for his part, lies in the grass, covered in bruises two, three, or four days old, which he gently pokes and prods, grimacing. He looks toward Cyanne, waiting for her to talk to their rescuers before he says anything.
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Being called a 'wench' makes Laliytsa roll her eyes. Men love getting in a jab about her sex. She could respond in kind but that would just rile everything up again. Look at her, being all diplomatic like. Wouldn't Grandpa be surprised!
Laliytsa keeps her longbow in her hand as the prisoners cross the river. She doesn't trust Akiro to not pull something. Really, if that man is beta to the Stag Lord she doesn't think he got it through smarts. You never, ever go into a fight convinced of your own superiority. That's just asking for something small and fluffy to suddenly grow huge fangs and rip your throat out. Maybe her group couldn't have killed him, maybe several of them would have died trying, or maybe his fancy chainmail wouldn't help him when she shot an arrow in his face.
At least these bandits take better care of their animals.
The quiet swordsman had come to her rescue again. Calmly talking to her mare, he got Volte to settle down and move across the dam, away from the bandit group.
Cyanne flashes him a radiant smile, but the man is looking anywhere but at her. It's a little disconcerting. She's used to outright gawking from strangers, and questions about why she had "dyed her hair." She sighs. Maybe he prefers competent companions who can command their own horses.
Once they're across, her muddy little mongoose nimbly leaps from Luthor's arm to her shoulder, tumbling through the air in a practiced somersault before landing.
"Show off!" She laughs, scratching her furry friend behind the ear. She gestures, prestidigitating him and her shoulder clean. Without the mud, the mongoose is snow white. Tango stands up on her shoulder, chittering excitedly. "Yes, Tango, you did a wonderful job fetching help. And you've already made friends, I see." She looks curiously at the human with the kind face and a mongoose of his own and raises an eyebrow. One of Aron's students? Out here?
She turns to their rescuers, focusing on the curly-haired warrior and the blonde archer next to him. "Thank you. My friends and I owe the four of you a debt for your rescue. I am Cyanne, a dancer from Restov." Out of habit, she gives no last name, having used her first name as her stage name for the past thirty years. "These are my traveling companions, Rask of the Golushkin dwarves, and Lepod, his guardsman." She smiles encouragingly at Lepod, indicating the battered young blond boy, barely standing on his feet. "Lepod fought like three men when the bandits ambushed us. The past four days in their hands..." Cyanne breaks off, not wanting to shame either Lepod nor Rask with details of the abuse suffered at the hands of the bandits.
"Would you have a healer amongst you? Or... extra food? Neither Lepod nor I were fed much. We've had nothing since breakfast yesterday. I can pay a little, or barter, or work... I negotiated with your swordsman," she indicates Daen with a smile, "for safe escort with you back to the trading post. But I had no time to work out the details." She glances apologetically at the swordsman, whose name she still doesn't know.
"Tell me, friends, what may we call you?"
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Kaz starts slightly when the voice sounds in his head, but quickly smooths his face over, nodding slightly. Remembering the advice Perlivash had given him, and reasoning that this might be a similar effect, he tries to 'think back loud and colourful', but doesn't think it works. Shrugging it off, he watches as the prisoners make their way across - the dwarf, the young man, and the blue-haired woman.
As Daen helps the horse across the dam, he turns to Laliytsa, feeling the need to apologize - "His comment was uncalled for. You've proven yourself nothing but capable, and had your arrow struck him, I doubt he would have said such things." He briefly squeezes her shoulder, before going to retrieve his axe.
"Well, if I ever need a squire, I know where to find one," he teases Luthor, grinning awkwardly as he habitually reaches out to pet Rikka. "Though actually having the weapon would help next time."
Tucking the weapon back into his belt, he greets the prisoners with a wide smile and open hands. "Well-met, and I'm glad your ordeal is over. We have enough food and water to share, and cannot, in good conscience, ask anything in return for escorting you to safety. I am Kazimir Vasilovich; this is Daen, Laliytsa, and Luthor. And Rikka," he adds, already feeling the mongoose's beady eyes narrowing at him. "If you need healing, I believe Luthor will be able to help you. He's been good at keeping the rest of us on our feet the last few days," he finishes, remembering the worg bite in particular.
The swordsman nodded when his name was introduced, and he added at the end of their leader's speech a few words of his own. The danger was a bit too near, although when addressing the newcomers, his eyes did linger a bit longer on Cyanne than he intended. "I had no doubt that we would have taken you to safety without negotiation, so it was easy for me to agree. It is good that we came upon your trail when we did. The best thing for us to do is get you all to safety as soon as we can. I'd like to get out of sight of this place before we pull out the fresh pork we acquired yesterday. We should not make it easy on any bandits who may wish to change their mind about our deal."
Heading over to his own horse, he realized they were still lacking a couple of horses. Pulling out some rations, he handed them out while offering a solution. "We would make better ground if we doubled up on some of the horses we have. If you would like, good dwarf, you can share with your guardsman and take mine. She's a bit old, but easy in temperament. I'll share with someone else and we can go to the fort, or possibly retrieve your wagon, if it's on the way."
After the brutality of the past four days, these kindnesses nearly undo her. "Thank you." She smiles, and then grins at her chittering mongoose. "Yes, Tango, you have excellent taste in rescuers."
She turns to the others. "Kazimir Vasilovich. Laliytsa, Daen, Luthor and Rikka," she repeats, committing each new name to memory. "This charming fellow on my shoulder is Tango."
Tango chitters again, waving his paws at Rikka. Cyanne raises an eyebrow. "Really? Well, what did you expect, rushing in without a proper introduction?" She extends a cautious hand to Rikka.
She exchanges a glance with Luthor, seeing if he reacts to her paraphrase of the Aron Lirpeth Academy motto. "Luthor, could you heal Lepod a little before we go? He'd be steadier in the saddle."
She accepts the rations the swordsman offers gratefully. "Daen, since you are loaning your mount for our sakes, would you care to share mine? Volte clearly likes you."
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That smile! He was absolutely transfixed. His first time seeing her had been trouble enough, but he was so stunned, he didn't even really register what she was saying until she spoke in elvish again, and her mouth spoke the language so flawlessly as if she were dancing through every syllable. She so embodied the art form that he silently thought that from this point on, he'd never be able to divorce the two.
As she turned her gaze on him, offering her own horse, he suddenly began to inwardly panic. He'd made the suggestion out of practicality, wanting to make as much ground as possible and suggesting the first thing that came to mind, but now the realization set in that he might have bodily contact with one of the most attractive women he'd ever seen for the next... how far were they from Oleg's?
Clearing his throat to avoid any squeaking from his heightened emotional state, he spoke purposefully, trying not to show weakness. "That's a good suggestion. That does seem to be the case. Shall I take the reins then? It would afford you an opportunity to rest more along the journey." He sincerely hoped she would take him up on the offer, even though it was her horse. He couldn't imagine sitting behind her for that long, where in the hells would he put his hands?
Cyanne nods, taking a moment to eat part of the rations he handed her before cautiously folding it back in its wrapping. The blandness of trail rations never tasted so good before.
"Oh, would you? I've barely slept the past few days." After he climbs up in the saddle, she accepts the hand up he offers her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she realizes with a start how much she already trusts not only him, but all of them. Is it just because they've offered her courtesy? Or something else that just feels right?
His long hair tickles her nose a bit, but she doesn't mind. "I don't want to doze off, not when I'm behind you like this. Perhaps we can talk a bit, and I can learn more about you and your friends while we journey?"
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As he helped her up on the horse, her hand seemed so small within his, but her fingers were strong. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he tensed up a little, involuntarily flexing his flat stomach, but quickly forced himself to relax. If he kept that up all day, he'd be a wreck. Part of him wanted to keep it up anyway, because it might impress her and he could view it as a kind of training, but he had promised himself that he wouldn't train hard on the trail, because if he wore himself out and they found themselves in trouble, someone could die. It could just as easily be him, or her now, and that just wouldn't do.
She was so free and easy with her words, indeed with his whole demeanor, that despite the knots his stomach was tying itself into, words came to his own lips easily as well. "I don't mind talking, he began, his voice falling into it's regular pattern, not particularly boisterous, but cool and even and regular.
"I can't tell you much about the others, to be honest. You see we all received a charter to come down here, survey the land and make it safe from bandits. It's up to us how we deal with them, but a good many have needed to be killed for their crimes. A few we were able to put to good use at Oleg's, helping work on the fort's defenses and capabilities. Another group has been set up there to protect it as we move about, in case there's an attack at our base of operations."
He tilted his head in the direction of their ranger. "I've been traveling longest with Laliysta. She has keen eyes and a bow to match. I feel we'd be mostly lost without her, for she knows the wilds well. She also has a way with animals, and treats her horse like family. The trick I used with Volte, I cannot take credit for, since I saw her use it once about a week ago."
"Luthor is the newest of our expedition. He arrived latest, but is most friendly and enthusiastic. As there were two others who started our expedition, but have found they lacked the stomach for it, I'm glad to have him around. Due to the nature of his capabilities, I recognize him as a witch, but with a benign or benevolent patron since he has not attempted to grind our bones into flour to make his bread. You probably know more about Rikka than I do, but she's quite vivacious."
Looking toward the de facto leader of their party, Daen speaks respectfully. It took a lot of guts to do as he does, and it was obvious the half elf had come to trust him on the battlefield, even if they had only fought fey phantoms and boars together. "Kaz is a self described farmboy, although he carries himself as well as any knight of the realm. Having no charter, he's here on his own business, although such business completely coincides with our own. He knows how to handle a lance with ease and gives homage to Erastil in both word and deed."
He took a moment to pause, considering how he would share himself and decided on the usual tack. "I come from an undesired union between noble blood and a renegade. The only family I know has disowned me, and had me forsworn not to reveal my roots, but they have not been altogether unkind as they have given me sword training, my horse, and this charter by which I can either make a name for myself or die.
"I taught myself magic from books in my former family's library into a style that is particular to myself, but I have heard of others doing similar things with sword and magic, so it wasn't as much invention as it was discovery. With the magical talents of Luthor around, I'll probably just glean what I can, but focus on my sword because I can gain a fair bit of prestige and money with dueling after this expedition is over."
Pausing for a moment, he asked her a question to see if she was still awake. "Does that satisfy your curiosity? Perhaps if it does, you can tell me a bit about you and your companions."
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At the talk of sharing horses, Kazimir weighs the options. On the one hand, Surefoot was stable, and the least likely to buck or bolt if surprised or attacked. On the other, he was also likely to end up in the thick of any battle. Eventually, he opts out of sharing his saddle, regretfully explaining why if asked.
He's glad to be armed and astride his beast again, swinging himself into the saddle with practiced ease and stroking the horse's neck soothingly. As is his habit, he keeps his lance under one arm and his shield-hand on the reins, holding them jus to remind himself of their existence, guiding Surefoot with his knees for practice. The horse was beginning to respond to more subtle commands, which was good. He allows himself a smile as he realizes the day's events could have gone a lot worse.
Daen's flustered behavior around Cyanne confuses him. Perhaps he doesn't like her? he wonders, glancing across at the pair as they ride. Pity. She seems like good company.
As Daen finishes talking, he allows silence to hang for a while before chiming in with his own tale. "I was drawn to the faith at a young age, through my grandmother's words and sermons. She'd been following Deadeye's ways as long as I knew her, and I enjoyed listening to her. She'd always make a cup of tea, whether I wanted it or not, and sometimes, when she could get it, biscuits with honey. She'd sit in her favorite chair, with her old rug on her lap, and we'd talk - or she'd talk, and I'd listen. It was a good way to spend an evening after a long day's work."
He squints briefly into the distance, then continues, "I taught myself to fight after a scrap with some bandits convinced me it would be a good idea. Unlike Laliytsa, I never took to the bow - my eyesight's never been too great at large distances. I chose the axe because I had one laying around, and I like the symbolism of it - it's a tool, a humble weapon. Just as I am of humble upbringing, and am but a tool of my god."
He pauses to brush the hair off his face. "Just under four years ago, I began having strange dreams, of a stag leading me through the woods. At the end of the dream each night, I'd lay down to sleep, and that was when I woke. Each night, I'd be right where I left off, continuing the journey with my strange guide. I didn't know what it meant, but my grandmother assured me it was a sign that Erastil meant for me to undertake some great journey." He pauses, looking around - at the trees, at the others. "I think this is it," he says, his tone quieting. "I believe this is where I'm meant to be, for I haven't dreamed since I arrived here."
After a brief silence, he presses on, finishing. "I may not be a knight of the realm, but I was raised with simple virtues in mind - faith, honor, respect, and so forth. I wish to see good done, and if that means putting myself in harm's way, then so be it. There are good people out here, who deserve the protection of the strong. If I fail them, I've failed not only Erastil, but myself."
As the party chats and organizes to mount up, Akiros and his men ride off on their side of the creek, heading toward the Thorn River. A few hundred yards further to the west is a shallow, sandy crossing, and at the prisoner's urging, the little band heads north for a bit before angling back toward the Thorn themselves.
As the day goes on, the clouds and fog that hung low break up, turning the forest ceiling into a stained-glass window of emerald and gold, and the understory into a mix of shadows and brightness. The sun sets at a likely campsite, but Rask refuses, begging the group to push on until the Thorn River. It's well after dark when a halfway-decent campspot is found, and Leped goes to bed without saying much.
Rask is able to get a fire going, and some of the boar meat is seared quickly for a speedy meal. The dwarf looks over his shoulder at every strange sound. "Well, you got us out of that mess, yes. Now what? Who's going to keep watch, and how many days until we get to my wagon? I have some calipers and other instruments those...thugs didn't take, and I'll need them recovered."
If they hadn't kept talking, she would have fallen asleep to the rhythm of the horses. Riding two in a saddle, though cramped, was much more pleasant when it was her choice to do it. For the first time in five days, she felt safe and protected. Kazimir had been so welcoming of all of them, and Daen so considerate. Add Luthor with his mongoose familiar and easy smile, and the way Laliytsa cared for the horses... This is a good group of people.
"So that's why you came upon us... and why you were tracking the bandits? Your work with the charter?" She loves Daen's descriptions of his teammates, and is especially amused by how he describes Luthor. She laughs at the line about how Daen must be good since he didn't grind their bones to make bread. "I've known many witches, and even learned a bit about bread baking from one at my school. Not one of them ground bones for bread," she teases. "Too much work, and I'm pretty sure they don't like crunchy sandwiches."
It is only when Daen describes himself that she becomes a little sad. The undesired union of noble blood and a renegade? A rape? Was there any love in that child's background at all? Not wanting others to overhear her next words, but wanting to make sure Daen does, she points a finger and casts message spell on him, and whispers something for Daen's ears alone.
"Whatever your heritage, it's clear you have noble qualities, Daen."
When asked if she has questions, she turns to Kazimir, riding beside them. "I have one. May I ask what was Akiros negotiating with you for? Having spent every day of the past four tied up next to him, I'm all sorts of curious about how his mind works." She gives an overview of the prisoners' ordeal, leaving out very little. The only thing she glosses over is her annoyance with Rask. The man didn't even try to negotiate for Lepod's safety. Or mine. All he cared about was his own skin.
"I'll let Rask and Lepod speak for themselves, as we weren't together long before we were all captured by the bandits. As for myself, I'm a miller's daughter from a very ordinary family." She pauses a moment, wondering if she should go on, but Daen and Kazimir had been so very forthcoming. "I was an embarrassment to my family, at first. This blue hair... I don't dye it. I'm different in other ways, too. I didn't fit in with the other children, or with our Era... our congregation. Our family's neighbors pressured them to give me up, for the good of the community."
She says this without rancor. It's a painful memory, but one from very long ago.
"My great grandmother had been an adventurer, and so my father sought out the two of her former companions for advice and help. Aron and Lirpeth." She smiles. "They're both elves. They run the Aron Lirpeth Academy for children with magical talent. Oddballs, like me. Aron is a witch. He taught me how to bake bread, and cookies, too -- but the only flour he ever used came from my family's mill. My family paid a small part of the cost of my education by supplying the school with flour. Otherwise, Aron and Lirpeth took me on as a scholarship case. Lirpeth is a bard. She taught me music, magic, and dance. But most importantly, they gave me love and a place to fit in. They became my second family."
"My birth family dutifully visited me once a week, and they called for me to come when my mother became ill. She died in my arms, less than a month ago. I took a leave from dancing to... do something else." A look of pain crosses her face. "I guess I need to sort things out, now that both my parents have passed. When my friend 'Lana wrote to me, asking me to visit her at the trading post, I decided to come out and see the beauties of nature and the exciting frontier." She grins. "So far, it's been a bit more exciting than I planned."
"If you let me sleep through the first watch, I can take one of the later ones, by myself or with one of you. I have excellent night vision."
Rask is acting a little odd. Cyanne tries to remember what she can of the journey and wonders if he is actually leading them back to his wagon.
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At Cyanne's question, Kaz furrows his brow in confusion. "It was... odd," he says eventually. "He told me that Rask would have a ransom on the way, and that he wouldn't be harmed at all, but that yours and Lepod's futures were decidedly more grim. He said..." He hesitates, aware of how mad his next words will sound. "He suggested I order an attack, and that he'd pretend to fall to the first blow, presuming his men would scatter. Then we could go in, rescue the two of you, leave Rask to be ransomed, and flee." He shakes his head slowly, still replaying the conversation over in his mind, trying to pick up on anything he might have missed the first time. "I imagine after four days, you'd be more familiar with him than I, for better or worse. But from that interaction, I doubt he's a simple thug. I don't quite know what to make of him."
He listens through Cyanne's story, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "So... if you didn't dye it, do you have any idea just why your hair is blue?" he asks finally, uncertain if he's missed something.
"For your family to so readily give you up... I cannot imagine such a thing," he says quietly, staring ahead. "My entire life, I've been taught of the importance of such things, of how children are the greatest blessing one could hope for. The idea of someone giving up a child for the good of the community..." He trails off, trying to reconcile the ideas briefly - on the one hand, the bond of family; on the other, the good of the community. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to pry, nor to offer unsolicited advice."
He hates riding at night, but does so without complaint, stifling his yawns and aches as best he can. When the group finally stops to make camp, he fetches the firewood, wanting to stay useful and stop himself from repeating the earlier encounter in his head for the umpteenth time, before it drives him mad. "We're going to need some decent directions," he replies at the talk of the wagon, his voice muffled as he strips out of his rough hide armour. He stretches out his aching back before adjusting his linen shirt, riding slightly from the movement, and sitting by the fire, giving it a poke. "Do you remember what was nearby when you were ambushed?"
"We were on the road. The bloody road, in Restov. Elder Hamli said it'd be safe on the road. Said we wouldn't see any other people, most like. Well, we certainly saw some." The dwarf tries to hide a shiver, though he's bundled up and sitting dangerously near the fire. "I ain't worried about the bandits," he says, obviously lying and suppressing another shiver, "but if they catch me again, they won't trust my letter. You lot may have ruined Golushkin business interests. What do you have to say for yourselves?"
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Her laugh was like music, but even more astonishing, it seemed that his poor delivery was simply overlooked, and she saw the joke as funny as he did. The barest of smiles crept over his face as she joked with him followed by a raging storm of guilt. An inkling of a thought crept through his mind that she understood him, and that was both uncomfortable and exhilarating. Everything about her was warm and stirring, a cavalcade of motion, of life. And nearly everything in him held back. Like a dam holding back the water, if it broke, who knew how long it would pour? For now he had strength, but what would be left of him after?
Daen's stomach felt like it was in veritable knots. He didn't really feel good at all. He did eat a little, and it was terribly delicious, but he quit far earlier than he usually would. Telling her his story was harder than he'd thought it would be, and her response was exactly what he wanted to hear. Mother was noble. If he could reflect her side in him, he could bring honor to her memory. Something that she always deserved that was lacking in her life, he wanted to make sure she had in death. If he strayed from his course, who would remember her? Realizing he'd been gazing at the bard, he turned away again to look into the darkness.
"There's no need for you to push yourself today." He spoke evenly and calmly. "Why don't you get your rest and you can take a watch next time?" He wouldn't have minded her falling asleep on him, but it was clear she was exhausted from not only the captivity, but also from the journey. If she didn't rest enough, her magic wouldn't replenish either, and that could come in handy on the road.
He was quiet most of the rest of the day, and into the night. Rask irritated him past the point of silence. Though his words were harsh, he spoke matter of factly, as if he were giving someone advice on growing vegetables. "It simply sounds to me like bandits are the least of your worries. If you keep mismanaging personal assets like you currently are, you'll find yourself bankrupt and possibly dead. Loyalty cannot be bought, but it can be earned and you are spending yours faster than a pirate in a brothel. We're here to stop the banditry, and your financing of their operation would not only be detrimental to the safety of the area, but also to your own poor skin since banditry is bad for business. So shut your ungrateful trap unless you have something intelligent to say or someone is likely to damage your goods."
He stood up and walked over to Lepod, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I hear you fought like three men, why don't you show me what you've got. I could use a bit of exercise to clear my head, and I'm sure we could both use the practice." The look on his face told the boy that it really wasn't a request.
"What do you know about my business? The Golka family has a long history of conducting business in Brevoy, and there weren't supposed to be any bandits on that road. The boy was insurance, in case of wild animals, he wasn't supposed to fight the bandits." The dwarf seems confused and a bit in shock after the morning's violence, and he's obviously only half-listening to Daen's lecture.
Leped looks up at Daen, taking stock of the half-elf. After a moment he nods, stands, and reaches for his hammer before looking at the half-elf again. "Won't work. I get couple licks in, but if you get en my guard, es over. Spar with sticks instead? Will leave less scars." His accent seems quite a bit like Gratia's, the hunter Daen and Laliytsa met at Oleg's.
Finding a pair of sticks roughly three feet long and two inches in diameter, Leped tosses one to Daen. He takes a two-handed grip on his stick and nods at Daen. "Begin?"
The half elf simply ignores the dwarf after that, focusing his attention on swordplay. He just shrugs when it comes to the idea of using sticks, although he tests the weight of the new thing, swinging it around a bit, and then actually using his sword to slice off about five inches on the end for a more even distribution. It wasn't like the wooden practice swords back home, but it definitely was an improvement. He was much better with an actual properly weighted sword, but it never hurt to switch things up a bit.
Noting his opponent's stance, and the size of the hammer he was reaching for, he was glad they went this route. One wrong move on that kind of sparing and there'd be more than broken bones to deal with. When the accented warrior nods, he's in like a flash. To Leped's credit, he was nearly ready for it, having already gauged that he worked more in speed than with muscle.
After getting inside the other man's guard right off the bat, he barely touched his neck with the branch and immediately backed off, taking up a defensive stance. "You almost were ready for that one, let's see what you have."
"Akiros wanted you to rescue me and Lepod?" Cyanne closes her eyes, and then rubs the bridge of her nose as if she has a headache. She turns this fact in her head, over and over, trying to make sense of it. "Oh!" She opens her eyes, and says, "He was trying to find a way to salve his conscience while saving face and staying a bandit."
She bows her head, a curtain of blue hair falling in her face. "And I botched his plan with my own escape attempt. Why didn't Akiros tell me?" She sighs. "You're right, Akiros is no common bandit. He was once a knight of Erastil. Somewhere inside him, I think he doubts his current path."
When Kaz asks his question about her hair, she sighs. This is where it happens. This is where they turn away. Why couldn't you have been silent, Cyanne? But Daen and Kaz had both been so open to her..."I got my blue hair the same way you got your sandy curls, and Daen got his lovely ears. I was born with it.” Tell them you're part angel. Just do it. Get it over with. She pauses, watching their reactions. "Like sorcerers with their bloodlines, one of my ancestors was something other than human."
Try as she might, she can't quite bring herself to say the a-word. People always treated her differently when they heard she was part angel, like they expected her to always be pure of heart, or to judge their sins like an avenging spirit. It was so much easier to pass, to be just one girl in a group of young people.
She barely manages to keep from snorting when Daen tears into Rask. What was wrong with the dwarf, anyway? Something in his story did not add up with her experience.
Unfortunately, she couldn't quite read the surly dwarf, whose grumpy face had set in stone as he glared back at Daen.
"Rask, I'm confused. Are you sure the path we're taking is the correct one? I think we might be a little off." She pauses, kneeling down next to the dwarf, and speaking as gently as she can. She has a suspicion, but she cannot quite believe it to be true. Surely Rask will disabuse her of it. "Also, what was Akiros talking about when he mentioned a fee, earlier? Did it have something to do with the terms of your ransom letter?"
Her eyes widen when Daen suddenly leaves her side to challenge Lepod. What happened to the gentle boy who had guided her horse and urged her to rest? Suddenly she sees him agitated, energized and a little aggressive. She watches them spar in shocked silence, and thinks about interfering to protect Lepod... And then realizes that both boys seem to be lashing out like they need this chance to prove themselves... and for what? She turns to Laliytsa baffled. "Why do boys persist in doing this kind of thing? Don't they get hurt enough as it is?"
Leped spins, whipping the stick through the air with both arms and his whole upper body behind it. As it flies toward Daen's head, the boy pulls back on it, and it thwacks off the half-elf's skull lightly. "Sorry. I do not always swing with such...lack of focus. Mother es saying I must focus my anger, but the last several days were frustrating."
He breaks his stick across his knee, looking at Daen sheepishly. "I will try you again sometime when et es safe. Then we will not have to hold back, yes?" He yawns, stretching his muscular body, and walks away, bundling himself up for the night.
Rask looks at Cyanne, a blank expression on his face. "The fee was simply a potential cost of doing business in a lawless place. Elder Golka wanted to be sure I'd make it home, and he knew the area was dangerous. The clan thinks there's like to be gold in them there hills..." He gestures to the southeast. "So, they sent me to inspect the area because my lungs didn't grow strong enough for mine-dust, so I'm expendable."
The dwarf pauses, looking at the remaining, non-dueling party members. "Look, if you come across anything worth mining, let the Golka clan know. Golushkin dwarves are the best miners, but the Golkas are the best of them. And...our prices are always reasonable. Pay you a good finder's fee, Elder Golka would."
Luthor's watch goes smoothly, accompanied by the reflection of a three-quarters-full moon on the rushing water of the Thorn River. The dwarf snores occasionally, and once his breathing stops for almost half a minute before continuing with a jerky intake of breath, while Leped sleeps curled up beneath a few hides against a thick, gnarled tree.
Once again, Kazimir's watch is quiet, and once again, the same silver-brown stag appears, once again fleeing off to the southwest when Kazimir notices it.
As Daen begins his watch, He hears a splashing sound that's more crisp than that of the river against the banks. In fact, it sounds more like that of a large rock being thrown into the river from a few feet up. As he stares at the river, he sees a pair of bulbous eyes staring back at him, peering just over the river-bank.
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"Well, if I ever need a squire, I know where to find one," he teases Luthor, grinning awkwardly as he habitually reaches out to pet Rikka. "Though actually having the weapon would help next time."
"To be fair, proceedings deemed necessary to end before I had the chance to retrieve it for you, oh Knight of Erastil." Luthor quibbed back, a sly grin and a wink on his face.
Tango chitters again, waving his paws at Rikka. Cyanne raises an eyebrow. "Really? Well, what did you expect, rushing in without a proper introduction?" She extends a cautious hand to Rikka. "વેલ ઓછી એક મળ્યા હતા. હું તમે જોખમો જે એક છે કે જે જોઈ શકે છે."*
*Elvish: "Well met, little one. I can see you are one who dares."
She exchanges a glance with Luthor, seeing if he reacts to her paraphrase of the Aron Lirpeth Academy motto.
Rikka at first gave the offered had a dismissive glare, though Cyannes words quickly made her demeanor change. With a curious head tilt, she looked Cyanne in the eyes, before leaping into her hand, running down her arm and circling her body three times in quick succession. Ending at Tangos side, she enthusiastically sniffed him and Cyanne both, squeaking loudly.
Luthor for his part was practically paralyzed with astonishment, so shocked was he to run into a fellow student. Seeing another mongoose familiar had certainly made him think of the possibility, yet the confirmation of his suspicion still managed to take him aback. Finally broken from his spell by Rikkas initiative, he chuckled, regaining his composure as much as he was able. "Well, Rikka seems to approve of you, and of the two of us, shes the least trusting." In reply to an insisting squeak from Rikka, he extended a hand for her to clamper back to her perch, now that her inspection was complete. "She is indeed one who dares, as am I, when I need to be." He added in elvish, a hand offered in greeting.
"Luthor, could you heal Lepod a little before we go? He'd be steadier in the saddle."
Absentmindedly shaking Cyannes hand, having finally noted her striking appearance and quite busy taking it all in, it took a repeating of the question before he managed a reply, releasing her hand with a flustered start and looking everywhere at once. "Whats that? Oh! Right! Healing." He rubbed his hands together and looked to the other ex-prisoners, focusing on the task at hand in hopes that everyone would forget what must surely have looked like shameless gawking. "Healing I can do." He added as he did the rounds.
Due to the nature of his capabilities, I recognize him as a witch, but with a benign or benevolent patron since he has not attempted to grind our bones into flour to make his bread.
At this, Luthor guffawed, a loud "Hah!" Ringing out in the clearing. He said nothing else, though the rest of Daens speech was punctuated by Luthors half stiffled giggles and the odd, squeaky sound of a mongoose laughing. "Bones into flour..." He mumbled, exchanging a look with Rikka. "...You ever hear something so silly?"
When Kaz asks his question about her hair, she sighs. This is where it happens. This is where they turn away. Why couldn't you have been silent, Cyanne? But Daen and Kaz had both been so open to her..."I got my blue hair the same way you got your sandy curls, and Daen got his lovely ears. I was born with it.” Tell them you're part angel. Just do it. Get it over with. She pauses, watching their reactions. "Like sorcerers with their bloodlines, one of my ancestors was something other than human."
"Ah, Aasimar, correct?" Luthor said, budding into the conversation. "Id been wondering about it ever since we first met. Admittedly theres a wide variety of potential reasons for naturally blue hair, but Aasimar seems the most likely. It would also explain how were were not attending school at the same time. You must be atleast 50,right?" He looked at her with expectant, curious eyes, a boyish look of excitement on his face as he waited for her to confirm, oblivious to the rather prying and personal nature of his questions.
----
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Laliytsa is so focused on the group across the river that she starts a bit when Kazimir comes up to her. His words are kind and her eyes widen in surprise. When was the last time someone reassured her like that? Kaz is gone before she can think of a response. Probably for the best, she's not good with words, but she does smile at the knight before the group heads out.
This is nice. More than nice. Wonderful maybe. A couple of years on her own had been great for her experience and money but it didn’t breed a lot of social interactions. She’d forgotten how good it feels to be part of a group. To have people you can both rely on and take care of. Her normal spot put her several feet in front of the group but today she holds a position close to Daen. She keeps quiet until Cyanne reveals her heritage and Luthor starts asking questions. Then she snorts loudly.
”Bet that’s been thrown in yer face eh Cyanne? Listen, anyone gives ya trouble over it, let me know an’ I’ll come pummel ‘em for ya. People can’t help what they born as right? Ain’t like ya get to pick all yer traits ‘fore ya enter the world.”
Laliytsa clears her throat before continuing. ”This here is a good group. Luthor’s a good guy, always nice ‘n cheerful ‘n stuff. Might need to work on the whole ‘Lemme poke yer sore spot with a stick’ bit but he don’ mean nothin’ by it. ‘Bout the best darn healer I’ve ever come across too. Hada boar gore me, tusk went righ’ through like WHABLAM” Here she pantomimes the motion. She’s more cheerful than you’d think for someone having gone through a near death experience. ”So there I am, bleedin’ like a stuck pig, pardon the pun, an’ poor Daen’s been run over and I’m thinkin’ we’re in a world of trouble but Luthor jumps in an’ heals us one-half less than no time.”
”Kaz is a good man too. He’s sweet an’ good with horses an’ he’s like the most righteous man I’ve ever known. Ya don’ have to worry with him around ‘cause he’ll keep ya safe. Yup”
Here she looks back at Daen and grins broadly. ”Now Daen, he’s somethin’ else. It’s real hard tryin’ to make it ina place the exact opposita everythin’ ya ever known. But he came out here an’ took to it an’ he’s been the best kinda companion. Strong an’ smart an’ he cares ‘bout doin’ the right thing an’ he’s a great fighter. We’ve been through a lot out here but he’s taken all the beatings an’ come back for more. He can ride the rough string ya know?”
”Me, I ain’t that excitin’. Proper name’s Laliytsa Iansoh. Trapper, guide, magical exterminator. You spent a lota time ‘round Restov? I’ve gotta bard friend there named Emmala, mebbe you met her?”
”OH. Almost forgot. Yer bein’ worried that ya messed up that planna Akiroses? Woulda gone south anyways. Ya offer me the Stag Lord’s beta an’ imma hit ‘em over the head ‘an take him home for questioning.”
Laliytsa watches the sparring and shrugs. ”Nah. Boys always doin’ somethin’ silly to prove who’s the ‘most manly manest’ or whatever. Might as well let ‘em work it outta their system.” The ranger hands Cyanne a stick speared through meat. She holds another one over the fire. “I always got the last watch. If ya want ya can sit it with me”
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The second was that he was at least instinctively right about her heritage as a creature from the higher planes. For that he felt mildly proud of himself.
The third was that ... well he'd rather not think about that. To this he felt a little twinge of despair. He ended up keeping his silence and doing his best to focus on other things.
Upon seeing the eyes in the darkness, he immediately drew his blade. Since he just got on shift, Kaz might not yet be asleep. Addressing the reflective ocular pools in the darkness, he speaks loud enough to alert the camp. "You there, if you're looking for trouble, you've come to the wrong place. You'd better not step closer unless you have come in peace." He punctuated the word place with the blue light of his drawn sword making his location quite visible. He'd rather they think of him as a threat as opposed to his prone comrades, or worse the prisoners.
In the blue glow of Daen's sword, He has a few moments to see the creature as it pulls itself out of the water and turns around. No taller than Rask, her slim body glistens with the water rolling off it, and with the occasional scale where they exist. Wiry limbs end in webbing, and her hair seems to be either dreadlocks or seaweed, depending on the angle and the light. As Daen finishes speaking in Sylvan, she jumps from the bank into the eddy, tucking her legs beneath her to make a satisfying splash. A moment later, her eyes pop back up above the water, watching him intently.
Is this fey? He didn't want to insult it if it were, but fey usually understood Sylvan, at least that's what he was told. It seemed like it wasn't looking for a fight, but it didn't like them being there.
Doing his best to remember how it was they dealt with the tiny dragon and grig and then immediately dismissing the idea since they hadn't been pranked, he continued in Sylvan after the creature jumps playfully back in the water."We're just passing through and we mean no harm to the creatures of the forest or streams, as long as they do no harm to us."
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Luthor's quip catches Kaz off-guard; he blinks once in surprise before laugfhing awkwardly. "Enough of that knight business," he chuckles bashfully, averting his eyes. "You know as well as anyone I'm just a simple man."
"A knight of Erastil?" Kazimir repeats, staring at Cyanne in amazement. "How did a man of faith and honour end up the way he is now?" Suddenly, it all makes a bit more sense, and he nearly rides into a branch; he ducks just in time, cursing his own inattentiveness. He sits in silence for a while, thinking. "Perhaps," he says finally, "all he needs is someone to show him the way back. When you fall from the beaten path, let faith be the lantern that guides you back to safety." His hand brushes the holy symbol at his neck, rough leather gloves rubbing over the old, smooth antler. "Perhaps he can still be reasoned with if we see him again."
Daen was using that tone on Cyanne again. Kaz sighs at the suggestion that the girl not overwork herself. He clearly doesn't want her on his watch, at least, he thinks, shaking his head slightly.
Rask's accusations and words stun him. He tries to think, to find an appropriate response to what seems, to him, like ungratefulness for rescuing him from a bad situation. Thankfully, Daen seems to understand the situation better than he does, and while the half-elf doesn't handle it with as much tact as he'd like, it seems effective, so he says nothing more on the matter, drawing a battered old holy text from his pack and thumbing through it. He skims over the usual underlined passages, the contradictions he'd tried so many times to make sense of, looking instead for words of wisdom and reassurance.
He watches the sparring with a raised eyebrow, uncertain of what to make of it. Daen was quick, that much was certain. But Leped's swings were clearly more powerful and uninhibited. He finds himself almost transfixed by the exchange of blows for a moment, watching bodies move, muscles tense, and makeshift weapons swing. He blinks away, going back to his reading.
Kaz wakes reluctantly for his watch when Luthor rouses him, pulling his armour on for added safety before taking up position against a tree and paging through his holy text again. There isn't much to do - watching the others sleep feels odd, so he busies himself with his reading.
He feels the stag's presence before he sees it - everything seems to slow, then to still, around him as he looks across the campsite and spies the creature watching him. Once again, it's gone so quickly, he wonders if it was there at all; this time, however, he crosses to the southwestern edge of the campsite, looking for a sign of it.
At the end of his watch, he dutifully shakes Daen awake gently, before shedding his armour again and bedding down for the night. Sleep comes quickly and mercifully.
Though her dive certainly seemed playful, the little creature continues to watch Daen from the safety of the water. One of her flippered arms breaks the surface and waves around, and her lips move in a language Daen can't understand. Against his judgement, he finds himself relaxing, the urge to put away his sword and greet his new friend warmly overwhelming.
"Well, friend, maybe you could keep me company for a bit? It gets so lonely here, and Melianse's way up the next river over, and she's closest. Also, I quite hate visiting her. Who'd want to live in such stinky water, anyways? I don't get out much, but it'd be nice to talk to someone who cares." She giggles again. "Even if they don't seem to have much choice for now. Just keep quiet, friend."
Oh! When you leave, you'll need to cross the Thorn, huh? If you go north following the river, there's a nice shallow place. Not a lot of fish there, so you won't bother 'em."