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Part 2: Meetings and greetings
VATTNISSE:
Blinking away his surprise (and swallowing his disgust at being caught unawares), Hrothgar steps forward, making a conciliatory gesture. "Greetings and salutations, fellow travelers, and may the blessings of the Unfettered Journeyer be upon both of you. We mean you no harm, so please put your weapons down. I am Hrothgar, of the Isfisker tribe - this is Ian, and, lastly, this is Ethras. Now, if you please - who are you?"
ETHRAS ARAFIL:
The elf glances at the three newfound wanderers and releases the tension in his bowstring, returning an arrow to its quiver. He smirks slightly and stands at ease.
"You appear to be lost. Would you care to join us? At least until we get to town?" The elf spoke in accented Common, clearly not his first language, but his words were easy enough to understand.
DAEMAN GREENSAILS:
Daeman quickly sheathes his dagger and steps forward to clasp forearms with Hrothgar. "Strength to Hrothgar and the Isfisker, I am Daeman Greensails of the Hrildern tribe. This is my friend Lythdrae. We have a third with us as well setting up a camp at the end of this trail. We are travelers on route to Northwind. We aren't "lost" per say.... (his sentance trails off clearly not finding the right words) but would still more than appreciate your company if you propose to make the trip together. I'd be a fool to refuse the company of one capeable of bestowing the great travelers blessings.
VATTNISSE:
"Strength to you and your clansmen as well, and to your companions." Hrothgar's face splits in a wide grin. "You are travelling to Northwind, yet you intend to camp here? Master Daeman, you are lost! Master Ian here is a local; according to him, we are less than two hours of marching from East Haven, perhaps just an hour if we keep a decent pace. Think of it - a roaring fire, warm food, a few horns of mead... Much better than roughing it under a bough in the forest, I'd say." His smile grows wider at the thought.
His expression suddenly becomes more somber. "Unless, of course, your third companion is sick, wounded or infirm, and thus cannot travel further today - in which case he most definitely should not be by himself. Let us go see to him; these lands can be perilous for the lonely or the inexperienced."
DAEMAN GREENSAILS:
Daeman turns and begins walking back toward their camp leading their new aquiantances to Arerath. "East Haven? I' ve never heard of it. I've been working on tradeships for the past seven years friend. I suppose I'm no longer a local to my own homelands. Our companion is surly from the cold but to my knowledge he does not suffer a more serious affliction. Please, let us gather our equipment and set off together."
WHITE TOYMAKER:
Lythdrae nods silently and, somewhat belatedly, sheathes her blade before following her companion.
"If he's that cold," she mumbles, "he can borrow my furs until we get there. Worth it to sleep someplace with a door."
IAN:
Ian steps forward carefully and with natural grace, despite the enormous spear currently in use as a staff. "If I may ask, what brings you and your companions to Northwind, friend Daeman?" Ian's voice is lyrical and measured; as he speaks, he offers his free hand in greetings.
DAEMAN GREENSAILS:
Daeman clasps Ian by the forearm with a smile. "A bit of a family reunion as a matter of fact. I have kin there and I've been away from home for too long. My friends here accompanied me under the idea that I was a guide who knew the way. Which, until fortune brought you our way, I thought I was. I'm nothing more than a homesick sailor I suppose... Now you, on the other hand, I suspect are something more spectacular. That post you are currently punishing the ground with seems to suggest an interesting tale, and your voice assures me you can tell one well.
VATTNISSE:
As Hrothgar emerges from the game trail, he hears a dog’s plaintive whining; as he turns towards the sound, he sees the pack dog nuzzling a smallish shape curled up inside a cloak and some thin robes underneath a fir tree. "’Surly from the cold’, eh?", he grumbles to himself as he kneels next to the prone and shivering youngster, quickly checking his temperature and vital signs.
"Apparently the cold has overcome your young companion", he says to Lythdrae. "It shouldn’t be too serious - he just needs some stew and a long, hot soak. However, we’ll have to carry him there - the easiest thing would be to leash him to a litter. Could you cut down some branches for that?" He then turns back to the unconscious Arerath and calls upon the favour of the Perpetual Traveller. "This’ll keep him warm until then", he says, as he touches his narwal-horn totem to the wizard's forehead and casts endure elements upon him.
WHITE TOYMAKER:
Lythdrae cocks her head to the side at the man's strange assurances, and stops a moment to ponder. Arerath chose to stay in the cold, but the last thing she needs is more blood on her hands.
"Here," she removes her furs and lays them atop her companion with the hint of a smirk, "best to keep him warm, or he'll not have the chance to give us the cold shoulder."
Stripped of her excess baggage, she turns back to the trees with purpose. She draws her knife as she walks, calling over her shoulder: "I'll see about finding something smaller than our feathered friend is carrying..."
ARERATH:
Arerath stirs slightly, looking about confused... "I guess there wasn't anything dangerous in there... should have signalled me..." At that he settles down, attempting to fall back to sleep in the warmth.
VATTNISSE:
"This is excellent", Hrothgar says out loud to nobody in particular, looking down on the bundled shape of Arerath. Lythdrae had been just as handy, if not more so, with the knife as he had expected, and the litter they had constructed should be quite sufficient to get the semi-conscious arcanist to East Haven. "First thing I’ve been right about all day", he thought ruefully to himself, shaking his head. At least the duelist was made out of sterner stuff than most - as practical as her outfit looked, it seemed far from warm. Hopefully she wasn’t just faking that toughness, as Hrothgar had no more of his warming magics memorised.
He stood up and grabbed the wood-and-rushes contraption. "I’ll pull the litter. But what we really could have used is a giant - big, awesomely strong, untiring and completely unconcerned with the weather! Of course, they probably couldn’t be bothered to… nah, whatever… Let’s get going!"