--------
Wow, tha' thing sure has a whole lotta words attached to it. Diana, you know what that thing's suppose ta do?"
Ritmush asks as the object appears in his view, rather distracted from the interesting revelations.
------
Ritmush looks at the halflings outburst with some confusion.
"Well not tha'd I'd risk it countin' her temper an UNDESERVED WALLOPS" Ritmush's withering glare is negated by the goggles he still wears. "Buh I can see reason to why the shy lady would wan a weasel woman in bed, I bet she'd work jus'fine there. I mean aside from the danger ah all that backhair crawlin' up yer nostrils at night an' turnin' ya inta one ah her. Good thing she's so tall, tha way it can't reach. Gotta be willy with them were-weasels."
Ritmush states absently as he looks at the group again.
"Who tha heck are you? An where'd tha other cow go?" He states scratching his head in confusion.
"Yer not a Were-cow are ya? cuz I'll tell ya now I'm way too stringy fer yer Insatiable Bovine bloodlust ta consider desirable."
Ritmush states clearly pulling such an evocative sentence from someone else's words.
Thikka ignores Ritmush. She shakes her head at the halfling. "I got no problem, halfling. If ye don't like being the butt of jokes, don't paint targets on your chest. Make fun of me all ye like, or yell at me if ye like, no fur off my tail. But leave the girl out of it. Or do ye not realize ye're scarin' her by pointin' at her and yellin?" She admonishes the halfling sternly. "Thought ye clerical types were supposed to be protective of people, or do ye not care because she has horns?"
"Excellent performance, Ms. Thikka. You'd make quite the bard yourself."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Valind's jaw drops - again - as Ritmush talks. Afterwards he looks at Thikka.
"Wait... you're a woman?"
Minerva -to her credit- was handling this quite well by her own standards; she hadn't made any whimpering noises, no daggers had been thrown and she had not yet been forced to cast darkness to cover her escape.
But she was concentrating so hard on it, on forcing back the gut-gnawing terror at people seeing her disfigurement, that the cleric's absurdist oblivousness caught her entirely by surprise.
Minerva laughed like she hadn't done in years, in a decade, it started as an explosive snort before launching into a fit of body shaking, eye tearingly genuine laughter.
She was still panicking, and the laughter was choked with fear-soaked hiccups as she tried to force it back down, but she couldn't stop until it ran it's course.
In a moment the fact that her hood had fallen completely down to expose her horns and demonic features would register, and Minerva may well pee herself a little in terror that the Cleric could see them. For now she was giggling mercilessly.
Ritmush blinks and looks at the cleric
"Err... is she? Tha's what she keeps sayin' an others agree. I mean I spose' she could be a man, or a midget, or a hairy baby like LorohLor said.
Buh she said she wasn't so i'll believe her as I dun like the prospects of me bein this close to tha' angry hairy lady tha' shoots fire.
Specially a Were-weasel tha' shoots fire."
Cocking his head to the left a tick the young man looks at the now laughing woman stated to have horns, which he scrambles over to with the speed only an excited youth with something to gain can attain.
"Wait, you have horns an' I'm pretty sure they are even real! Where'd ya get'em? Ol' Rolarach always told me I had ta' eat tha biggest nastiest beetles ta'grow a proper seta' horns." The obviously human individual asks excitedly
"Never did take though..."
the youth states with some disappointment with a look of recalling a particularly nasty taste before launching back into his chattering speech.
"Oh, there anything else you have? Scales? pointy teeth, OH a TAIL!?" The youngling asks fervently looking at the new woman with an odd glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Maybe she'll be able ta tell me how she got hers, and then they're sure ta let me back in crushed throne or no!
Minerva pauses her giggling as the young human asks his questions, and sighs in the exhaustion of mirth as she wipes her eyes then considers hthem with a 'hmm?, While her brain recombobulates itself.
The state of calm lasts about 5 seconds.
Then she makes the mistake of following Ritmush's eyes up to her horns, her burnished bone ram-like horns, covered at the base by shiny tar-black scales, completely uncovered in broad daylight..
Yep. There it went, just a little into her thankfully waterproof leather greaves.
The hood was up and over so quickly the points of her horns tore two tiny holes in the taut fabric. She couldn't hold in a hiss -hidden tail an iron band around her stomach- through gritted fangs during the panic before the rogue manages to compose herself.
She put on falsely calm, smooth, easy tones again before speaking to the youngling "trust me little one, you want nothing of what I have." Minerva glanced to make sure the cleric isn't looking before she shows her tail for a split second, using the hand on it's end to pull her cloak closed.
"These things are disfigurements, a taint on my race's soul, not points of pride."
Ritmush looks with obvious sadness at the woman, endless pools of refacting sad boring deeply into her soul, like one might have just punted a baby unicorn into a field of puppies that was also a pressure sensitive landmine testing area. Well, perhaps if Ritmush was not wearing goggles and the powers of his puppy dog eyes uncovered. Darn, plan B it is then!
Ritmush considers as he sucks in a breath and begins a fast paced rant at the woman.
"But I wanna be just as horny as you are horny lady! I want to get just as horny as you are if not more so and shout from the mountain tops about the length and breadth of my horniness. My horniness will know no bounds and my horny horns will be so horny as to send my horniess across the land. An' then ever'ene else will be so impressed by my horniess that they'll become horny as well. An' it'll be a great time with food an snacks an Butlah's. An the butlahs will be made outta bacon fer a dinnah service an'they'll be horny too!"
ritmush states as he runs out of steam on his horn induced tirade "So I'm pretty sure I had a point hidin'in thar somewhere so you should totally tell me the source of your horniness. Plus scales and other stuff'd be awesome, fer meh that is yer already horny an'I dunno where you'd put any more horniness."
Thikka smacks Minerva on the arm. "Don't make me beat sense into you girl. Only taint anyone has is what they do to themselves. You do evil and say it's in your blood, it's only an excuse." She continues to ignore Ritmush, as the only response she could reasonably make is to bash his head in, and she doesn't want to get blood on her robes.
She gives the halfling an eye though, over her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, little fella. One day the other one will drop, and you'll get the whole hang of that male female things." She snorts, sounding mildly amused, and continues walking on.
Valind looks as Thikka walks on, then turns back to Minerva.
"She's right about one thing though - The church of Valindor does not accept people are born good or evil." he smiles warmly
"Just because you have horns does not mean you are a liar, thief or murderer. People can be judged only by their actions."
Minerva just went a bit glazed in the eye as the odd boy rambled on, only to jump out of the daze by the stinging hand of Thikka. She couldn't help but feel somewhat shame-faced as the witch spoke about the lack of evil in blood. She was a thief, and a liar.
Then the cleric spoke, and she shook with fear before pushing Ritmush to the side and walking on.
"Just leave me alone, all of you.." Minerva hissed softly, leading her mule to walk on the far side of the caravan, away from prying eyes and the honeyed lies of the Cleric
It seems as though our friend requires a little space. There is something in her words that indicates a deep sense of pain and not wanting to be hurt. I think it best to let her try to cope with her feelings. Just make sure she doesn't wander off to far....no telling what is in the area.
Ritmush gives the 'horn-y lady' a glare as she ignores his questions and runs off somewhere. " Were-weasel musta bit'er already..."
Ritmush then looks over to the cleric scratching his head, nodding to the elf who had just spoken. "Must be her havin' onea' those times ladies have some times tha' are rude ta talk 'bout. So I'll leave 'er alone fer now on account of not wantin' ta find out how big a stick shes hidin somewhere."
he recalls rubbing at an the side of his head in memory of something before turning to the halfling cleric.
"So bout tha' whole murderer an'thief thing. Murder is killin'someone yeah?" The young man starts thinking for a scant moment before just asking the question on his mind.
"Bein' tha we jus' killed a buncha' these guys on accounta' them bein'forced ta try an'kill us wouldn't tha' mean we are all murderers? And thieves fer' lootin' em. I mean I figure they got family an'lives themselves, seems kinda weird ya' aren't tryin' to arrest us all yet."
Well, a doppelganger is a kind of person, I suppose, like a Dwarf, or an Elf, or a Halfling. We’re just people trying to live our lives just like everyone else. Oh, sure, we have some strange behaviors, most of it is born out of fear, but we’re not all murderous sociopaths, a few, not all, most, a lot, okay yes a lot.
Shapechanger is a derogatory term, to my kind, but hey, no offense, I understand where that is coming from, She says to Rolandor
Quickly turning to speak to Unbolath, the woman seems to be doing her best to keep up with all the questions, Mostly I get by by begging, and for a while I worked as a dock hand and tavern bouncer at this small fishing village just south of the city on the coast, you know the one the Halflings call New Normanland. I don’t have any significant experience with a trade, but I’m pretty good with ropes. The village was called Rocky Point, or something like that.
The woman approaches Valind with a sweet smile, and holds out her hand, Hello, Valind, I heard them use your name before, in fact I think I got everybody’s names already. You can call me Miss Cow, or Cowie, or Callie, or Calliope, whatever suits you, just don’t call me late for supper, you know what I mean. And speaking of that are we gonna be stopping for a meal soon, I’m sort of sick of eating hay. She offers to shake Valind’s hand and if he takes her hand, she pulls him in close for a warm and friendly hug.
Whoa, big fella, Calliope says toward Sithundan when she observes smoke coming from his ears, Better rein that kind of thing in, though as people go, I got to say this group is very tolerant of different folk.
Arrow, what?Calliope turns her head and examines her backside. What the snickety? Never even felt that. Oh, no Mr. Valind, I am wearing armor. It’s very expensive, and quiet special, it was a gift from my mother when I left the home at sixteen. I can blend into just about any sort of shape, and the armor blends with me. Momma said it was a family heirloom, worth a fortune she used to say, not so good for protection, not the best armor there is, but the family secret of its special property makes it special to me. And just to clear this up, no I am not from another world or plane or whatever it is those elves were trying to explain. I was born in Aeromnia, came here eight years ago with my parents. They let me leave home at sixteen, that was two years ago, and they went back to the mother country, as it were, left me to find my fortune here. Said something about not fitting in with the rest of their kind, and you know I should have understood then what they were talking about. But, hey some lessons you just got to learn the hard way.
Calliope, who continues to walk with the group as it makes its way along the ravine, saddles up next to Ritmush and tells him with a sideways whisper, Nope, no siree, I’m no lycanthrope, but don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, them were-cows are real. Best friend I ever hand was a wyf-wolf, one of them opposite types, you know protective, and kind, not all macho terror claws and bite your throat, though with the were-cows it’s more like you need to keep your corn locked up
My apologies....i dd not mean to offend. Yes we are a rather.....eclectic group. Yes I believe a meal break us coming. I think we have some extra food. I cant imagine hay being very palatable.
Valind freezes a bit as Calliope envelopes him in her hug. Despite his own belief in his relatively confident nature, he finds he is somewhat reassured when he discovers she is, in fact, clothed.
"Uh... I suppose so. I think I might have some cheese..."
Portia soothes her feathery friend. Gives her a snack from her pouch as a reward for being such a good girl.
She than turns to the group, and when there is a break in the talking she pipes up, I believe the village in question is about two miles away. That is if Issabelle is correct. Her and I feel confident in it. Get ready, for I don't know what hell may break loose once we arrive
"We should probably get rid of the prisoners before someone sees us then..."
Alright then, good luck to you folk. I think we may be seeing each other again, sooner than any of us expect, I imagine.
He takes Derrick’s hand and then Derrick takes the woman prisoners hand, and she joins hands with the rest of the prisoners until there is one continuous chain. Victor holds up the stone, and rolls it in his fingers as he speaks a few simple words in an archaic tongue
Elomori Dubva Kocoromasis
And the group vanishes right before your eyes.
"So.." Ritmush states looking at the odd group. "Noh tha' it matters much it not bein'mah job an'all bu' we gonna move anytime soon? Tha'lady with tha tastey lookin' bird said we were close, ought to get there before it gets dark. Tha' taverns food is best hot." He fiddles with his goggles for a little bit attempting (and failing) to not look insane as he talks to no one."Huh, tha's really intrestin'. So, can ya do goggly things like makin' things bigger or darker oh' brighta? Maybe light people on fire when I wiggle my eyebrows? Real cool that. Buh'more than that can ya try an'explain how what ya can do works? I like complex things an'yer tha mos'complex thing I've seen."
Now less see if my guess on wha'tha thing is pans out. Semms pretty obvious they don'wanna share such things. Not that it'd change much, we can't exactly threaten to tell tha'guards on 'em. They had a hard enough time provin'it ta'us much less us trying it without all their fancy stuff. Ritmush moves next to one of the agents and looks up question obvious on his face.
"So, tell meh. Why's somethin' important ta one'a yer magic sky boats all tha'way down here? I mean it don'matter much ta'me I already know where i'm goin'.
Lorohlor's gonna be annoyed when he learns he coulda'jus stuck around an'followed me tha' tha big place with tha'lizardy people an big walls. He frowns and scratches at his side, the edge of an old scar peeking from his shirt.
Hopefully ol' treeshaker decided ta' find a differen't place ta live tho'.
With Victor, Derrick, and the ragged men and women from the prison now gone the group gets moving again, and Ritmushg asks a question,
Agent Danvers looks at Agent Hughes and says,
It’s like he’s trying to communicate with us I just know it.
Oh, stop it, Agent Hughes laughs at Agent Danvers, You know, just stop being like you are. Anyway, Ritmush right? We didn’t come down from our sky boats just for that object, in fact we had no idea it was there. Like I sad. A report was filed that said certain technological devices that did not originate on this world were being found, and then being moved around until they dropped off our rada…um we couldn’t track them anymore. You see that is what is important to us. This world, though it’s not a protected world in that way, could have serious problems if the wrong kinds of devices get put into the wrong hands, and we, the IRS, work as hard as we can to make sure that the wrong people don’t get their hands on the wrong kinds of devices. We do this when and where we can, and try not to draw a lot of attention to ourselves when we do it. Now, that particular object makes this whole matter a lot more dangerous, and delicate, than us two just trying to keep a plasma rifle from being ending up in the wrong hands. That object, in addition to being very powerful, very difficult to control, and very hard to maintain, is also very rare, and can bring a very high price in the right markets.
Also, don’t forget Agent Danvers adds, the people who originally made that device, and the people who were using it, are probably still looking for it, and if they find out it is here, there is little the IRS can do to stop them from leveling mountains to get it back
Now, see, that’s what I’m talking about. Why do you insist on being so dramatic?
Am I lying
No, I didn’t say you were lying, just saying you don’t need to always be so dramatic
Thikka frowns, and casts detect magic as they approach, it's strange for a small town not to have at least one person notice them.
"Would everyone mind if I stopped for a moment to gather my thoughts before we go into town?" She'll ask, while looking around for a small balanced stone of some kind. Once she finds one, she will lob it as hard as she can toward a building.
"Interesting observation.."
Unbolath scans for anything out of place or not quite normal.
Welcome, travelers, to Mystic Valley. Is there someone you are looking for, someplace you need to find. I’d be happy to help you. My name is Timothy Woppet, and I am a cobbler, a shoe maker, and I do dabble in other leather goods. What brings you folks to our town?
Thikka shakes her head. "Most inbred incurious trusting bunch of hillbillies I've ever met. Never seen a group, down to the children, not pay attention to an arriving caravan. Something is off with these people." She mutters under her breath.
Thikka digs a letter out of her pocket. "I am looking for Klatu Verata Nachoo, I have been asked to give her a letter by her sister." She calls out, keeping her distance from the Children of the Corn settlers.
Unbolath turns to the 'elves', "Where exactly are we to take this wagon of stuff? Now that we have arrived, we should move towards our next course of action."
Finchley
---------
Well, that’s excellent, but let me be clear about a few things. I’ve already made arrangements for a small group of people to act as guards for the delivery of the wagon. There are two people here who are going to be going along with the wagon, a young couple, both Elves, who hope to homestead in Mystic Valley. Their names are Kokole’ah’no'hiko and Wiani’ni, O’noana. Neither of these two have any experience with wagons, or livestock for that matter. The wagon will be pulled by a bull, a strong but docile animal that was purchased by Franklin Johansen, a Halfling that lives in Mystic valley. The Johansen family has also purchased two milking cows, and they will be included in the delivery.
Finchly paces a bit to the side, with his hands folded behind his back while he goes on to explain
So, I need to hire three or four people willing to take responsibility for the wagon, the bull, and the milking cows. This is a big responsibility, and therefore the payment is considerable, but in order for the contract to be fulfilled I expect a receipt, signed by the Johansen family, and the elves, once all these things are safely delivered to Mystic Valley. When that receipt is returned to me, here at the fort, in a timely manner, I will pay two hundred dollars to each person who’s signature is initialed by the customers. So if you are looking for work as escorts, I don’t need you. If you can drive a wagon, and can take care of a bull and a couple of cows for a few days, and are willing to take a contractual obligation and fiscal responsibility for the supplies, and the people travelling to Mystic Valley, I’ll hire you.
Finchley
----------------
Major Finchley smiles and says, ”Good, good, excellent. I’ll have a proper contract completed today and ready for you to review and sign this evening. Shall we say, sunset, here. I have promised the young elves that the wagon will leave tomorrow. You understand that in order for me to offer such a large payment for the work to be done that I must ask you to take some responsibility for the shipment. I wouldn’t expect you to assume full responsibility, the goods are insured, to a fashion, but and let’s all hope nothing terrible happens, but if you should find yourselves back here after losing the supplies, I’ll expect a ten percent fee of the value of the goods from both of you. That works out to five hundred dollars each.”
Unbolath
-----------------
"Major I will agree to the terms, but I will attach some conditions to the fiscal responsibility. If due to negligence or mismanagement, the wagon does not arrive or due to other avoidable perils of the trail, I can see where replacement would be due. I will however not pay for the wagon if a dragon swoops from sky and carries the cattle and wagon off in their entirety, or if the earth opens and swallows the caravan. Simply, against a force of overwhelming odds or a large natural catastrophe or other unavoidable circumstance, I will not hold myself responsible. For reasonable dangers, such as small bands of humanoids or bandits, wild animals, simple environmental hazards, or other minor perils I am equipped to handle and take responsibility. If greater hazards are expected, I am simply not trained to undertake, and you will probably find yourself in need of hiring more expensive talent. If these terms are amenable, I am prepared to sign."
Unbolath bows to the Major and stands at ready.
------------------
ritmush's face puffs into a rather cute pout as yet another person ignores him Itchin' powder in tha' boots an poison ivy on his privy.
He listens as the two converse and nods making a decision.
"Yer'a jerk but I like how ya don't talk circle words round meh. You jus' talk, don' have to pick at it like some kinda flakey fish to get around the pointiest bones."
He sighs and gives a level look to Agent Hughes
"If ya' can't say ya don't have to, Not my responsibility an' I ain't old enough or some rot like that. I'm not dumb though, I know that glowey rune-y doom orb is bad news. I want it gone an' I know yer' doin' tha most ta solve that problem. I wanna help you get tha' thing far enough away ta' ensure its a problem somewhere else. Trouble is I can't do that when I'm in tha' dark on how that process'd work."
Ritmush states as casts a glance back toward the covered object in question.
I'm even pretty sure I can gets ya to tha' place those No-bolds were s'posed ta go back to.
Ritmush states as he itches at himself, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal the beginnings of a scar
Cuz'yer less worried bout' tha' objects getin' traded here an more tha' theres a market fer tha stuff ya can't track hidin' down here righ'?
-------------- TOWN!!
Ritmush gives thikka a questioning look then returns his gaze to the town leader. "Hi thar." Ritmush states with a bland wave to timothy.
Pretty sure these guys were bringing stuff through here fer'some reason. Somethin' about cows. Found someone who said they might now what those coin's I got are. Oh an' a space wizard shoved a ghost into mah' goggles. Some kinda spook called an Aihy-Yaih."
Ritmush states blandly to the man as he beings ambling into town.
You know if the butcher still got any ah' that salted bacon left? Ritmush wheedles as he looks mournfully the still slightly glistening paper which once held his porcine prize. "I mighta' ran out on account'a offerin' ta share ta' a few too many folks. Buh' I couldn't resist, everyone needs the wonder'a Bacon after all."
Timothy smiles when Thikka complains about the people of Mystic Valley,
Oh, well yes, I suppose we do tend to get caught up in the quiet, day to day monotony of our little village, not that it isn’t unusual for folks to come walking into this part of town, with a wagon and all that, but you should understand that most people here aren’t outwardly curious. You could say we are even a bit guarded. It’s not an easy place to live, not all the time anyway, and most of the people I know here are either too busy to worry about strangers, or too cautious. Anyway,
He approaches closer to Thikka and holds out his hand to greet her, saying, Again, welcome to Mystic Valley. Our town doesn’t have a mayor, or a sheriff, but there is a company man here, one of the Weac people and his name is Henderson, he’s a dwarf, and he has an office at the end of the street. You might need to see him at first. Oh, a letter, for Elinara Nicholson, um, Elinara, the sister of that woman at Fort Horizon, what’s her name again, oh right, Milana Ke’uma’a. Sure She and her husband, Roger Nicholson have a homestead just northeast of the end of the street, about a quarter mile out. He’s found a hillside there with plenty of water, a stream flows right past his property, and he’s making a good show of growing corn there, but I don’t know if he’s got a long enough season to bring it all the way up, now if you ask me…
As the man tells Thikka about the town, Unbolath asks the Agents about the wagon and Agent Danvers replies, in a hushed whisper close to Unbolath’s ear
When Ritmush starts “Talking” and walking into town, Timothy leans over Thikka and says
He leans back away from Thikka and says, tilting his head to the side, You know, you’re the second one of your kind to come to Mystic Valley this year. The other said she was an explorer, looking for curiosities and said she heard about a network of caves and an old ruin to the northwest. I told her that that old ruin had been taken over by the Weac. Don’t know what they are using that place for, never been there myself, but Mister Henderson doesn’t like to talk about, always says its company business, private stuff and all. Whatever they got going on out there doesn’t have an effect on us here, it’s too far away, but that lady, like you, she called herself a Moderian, never heard of them folks before, but she was a good sort, had a lot of money, spent a lot of it here in town, stayed for a few months gathering information about the surroundings, but haven’t seen her around for a while. She had a small house to the south of here. I think it’s still there, closed up tight. People here respect another’s privacy, and I don’t think anyone’s been by her place since she left.
Thikka nods. "Well, I have a letter for them. If you see them, let them know. If I don't see them by morning, I'll go take it out tomorrow." She looks at Ritmush, and snorts. "I think he has stone for brains, he left a bruise on my staff when I smacked him in the head for being impertinent."
Thikka rubs her chin thoughtfully. "I think I might go check on her place, I had not thought to see any of my kind here. I thank you for the information."
"Should we not report to this Mister Henderson?"
Droka takes off down the street towards where Timothy said that Henderson's office was. As he walks, he makes an extra effort to smile pleasently and nod at everyone whom he passes in an attempt to gauge their friendliness.
Valind nods "He's right. Sooner we report, sooner we deliver, sooner our contract can be signed off, and sooner we can..." he catches himself "Relax with a nice beer at the local alcohol emporium"
There’s little chance of them two coming into town, they have a farm to take care and a new baby to boot, but if I do see them I’ll mention that some stranger was asking about them.
Then he takes a step into the street and looks at the wagon
You folks seem a bit confused. I’m wondering if the sun hasn’t affected your brain. Why don’t you folks sit down and take a drink of water and I’ll tell Mister Henderson you’re here
Thikka snorts. "And who the hell else do you think would bring messages for them, someone you know?" She asks, a bit scathingly, shaking her head.
Thikka investigates the town, walking around, observing.