The rider smiles seraphically as Vel's missiles thump into him.
"Do you have any idea how many heads I would bring to win your favour?" he asks rhetorically, before keeling over.
From the merry crowd, the Hexer shouts "Heads and ears!". Vel is attracting a lot of attention.
"Of course! Hands too, if you like."
Wordlessly, Arianwyn appears on the other side of the melée and conjures a shimmering shield, and casually throws a bolt of energy at the remaining runner.
Arianwyn's attack makes the last rider shake his head a bit, but he stays resolutely upright.
Free to move at last, the Warleader advances on the warlock, smiling playfully at him. "Away with you!". Still sluggish from the last of Vel's spell, she misses.
"Ah, idiot that I am. Hit him before you fall," she calls to the last rider.
"These are truly worthy foes," he says in open admiration now, jamming his torch into the eladrin's face and forcing him backwards.
"The Sun Stallion favours them and will favour us in our acceptance. Is that not so?" There is no resentment in the Warleader's voice at all and she calls her question to the watching enaree.
"They are legend, as they said." comes the calm reply.
Just surrender then, accursed morons! Arianwyn thinks in annoyance.
"Do you concede then?" Arianwyn asks.
The Warleader is a realist. Hopelessly outnumbered and her mounted advantage gone, she nods briskly, drawing her sword across her arm.
"Sealed with my blood as the law demands. I will not stand against the judgment of the Sun Stallion. You are worthy foes and I accept you as People among us."
The enaree raises a hand as the Warleader's blood seeps into the ground and the flames marking the ritual battleground die away.
"So it is confirmed. The spirits allow it. You are all honoured guests among us, kin of our kin. You may enter the caves of the Moon Mare without dishonour to us."
The Warleader looks up from binding her arm. "We feast this night. In the morning, we will ride with you to the caves. While you seek the touch of the Moon Mare, we will guard your passage. None shall pass to hinder you."
She grins suddenly at Arianwyn. "I never thought to surrender to feyspawn!" Her good arm thumps shatteringly across his back in a gesture of comradeship.
With the thoroughness that seems to characterise the Kargzant, the tribe enthusiastically welcome their newest clan members. Vel is swamped by warriors, eager to make her better acquaintance. The Hexer stands a little apart, waiting for a better moment, smiling slightly.
The children seem drawn to Reason particularly, clustering around him as he stands happily in the fire.
"Will you come out so we can talk to you?" asks the boldest.
Whiteclaw finds herself the subject of considerable admiring scrutiny from the tribal elders. One of them comes towards her and shifts form into a gnoll. "Now we may talk face to face! I too am a changer," he announces with some pride.
Left slightly alone, the two eladrin are approached by the enaree. Speaking quietly, the shaman murmurs to them.
Vel bows to the warleader, then the hexer, as the flames die away and her tattoo subsides.
Adalram flies to Arianwyn's shoulder, and croaks words meant for him.
Vel hugely enjoys the attention from the warriors, but is careful to not make any promises.
After calming down from the "heat" of battle, Reason looks about and senses the possibility of converts.
He strides out of the flames into the midst of the group of children, basking in the glow of their eager young faces, lashing his tail back and forth and showing his fangs to maximum effect.
"Hello, young warriors! I am sure that you are curious about how I learned to live in the fire and fling about bolts of light. Let me tell you: years of reading and careful study! Remember: there is no such thing as bad knowledge or too much information! And eat your vegetables!"
He looks about, hoping his words have had a positive impact.
Arianwyn smiles curiously, and replies,
Arianwyn says to the enaree, "Very well, let us present ourselves. Pray, lead the way."
Not at all concerned at the lack of adulation from the Kargzant, Kia sheaths her sword and, smiling, walks with Arianwyn after the enaree.
Vel may not understand the social subtleties, but she knows outright admiration when she sees it. The warriors are trying to find out what would please her most as a courting gift. She's being offered heads and other body parts as signs that the warrior is indeed a warrior and it's clear from the rising scale of the offers that she is very much admired. The base starting point was 10 heads, but this has rapidly risen. Current bidding is offering 50 heads, three brood mares and a yearling colt from proven bloodlines.
Reason's audience drink in his words and wait expectantly for more, even though they don't seem to understand him. The little girl who called out earlier tugs at his robe.
"Why can't you speak our language? Shall we teach you?"
In the bustling aftermath, Arianwyn and Kia accompany the enaree largely un-noticed, bar a few curious glances.
Arianwyn and Kia
A guttering oil lamp hisses slightly as the small group enter and the enaree kneels.
"Chosen One. Legends walk among us and bear gifts. Once more fey are guest-kin. They have bested our warband with honour and guile and seek the blessing of Pashira that they may be accepted by the Sun Riders. The unbalance we have sensed takes shape."
The Ur-Pan nods in acknowledgment. Heavily tattooed, he is well into his sixties. Even so, he seems younger, alert dark eyes intent on the stranger and hand on his spear.
"I will hear and I will see. Is it your thought that our end times will come in our day?"
"It may be, Chosen One. The dead are restless and the spirits are unclear. It is certain in my mind that these new guest kin are part of a greater patten. The shape of it is not mine to see, nor yours to ask. We may only do as we are guided. Will you accept the gift?"
Another nod. "It may be presented."
The enaree steps back, making way for Kia and Arianwyn.
Arianwyn nods to the shaman. He addresses the Ur-Pan, "I know not the customs of your land, but I greet you in the custom of mine. I am Arianwyn, son of Eshain and Fionnghal, and I wish you long life and prosperity. I would like to present a gift, which has proven its worth to us many times against our foes, as a protector."
He takes out the statuette, "Amongst the learned, such as these are called figurines of wondrous power. This one is named Urho. You must simply place it on the ground and utter its name to invoke the power. Shall I demonstrate?"
"You do not seem to me to be at a loss in our land."
The Ur-Pan looks quizzically at Arianwyn. "Your gift is pleasing. You may demonstrate. Have you other hounds?"
Whiteclaw doesn't seem to embrace the praise, or the adulations, though she does seem to find it amusing the way Vel is being courted. She follows the group along, silent for the moment, though she does take everything in.
Reason pulls out his phrasebook, and frantically flips through it looking for appropriate things to say ("Stay in school", "Listen to your elders", "Read every day", "Which way to the library?")
"What's "reading"?."
"Is a library a vegetable?"
"We do listen to the elders though, before they burn."
"Do you want to stand in the pyres?"
"My grandfather stood in the pyres last year."
At least some of Reason's mangled attempts at Kargzant are getting through to his young audience.
Arianwyn takes the figurine out, places it on the ground and causes it to transform into a full-size stone dog.
"Urho." The Ur-Pan touches the stone dog.
"I command your allegiance now, Urho. You will guard me until I am worthy of the pyres."
Bowing slightly to Arianwyn and Kia, he continues.
"If you are successful in winning Pashira's guidance and walk his path, we will speak again. We will ride to the Gathering together and seek the Sun Riders. I would warn you, that among the other tribes we are not always welcome. We guard the land of the dead, that all must visit in the end. It is not a duty that endears us to our brethren, but we will speak for you when the time comes. This child of Tunal will help you on your road."
It is a dismissal and the enaree guides you away. Once outside, the shaman pauses and adds something.
"Our Ur-Pan will ask a boon of you I think, but that is for the future. How may we aid your quest on the morrow? Gather your tribe and speak your wish. If it lies in us to aid you, we will do so. Kin of our kin."
Arianwyn nods his head, and thinks, A boon? As if we haven't done enough! Still, we are alive at least, and able to traverse the damnable caverns.
Vel keeps an eye out for the hexer.
Whiteclaw is likely thinking along the lines of Arianwyn given the rather annoyed growl she makes. She doesn't say anything, indeed the gnoll shifts once more into her canine form and lays down next to the fey warlock as he speaks, her tail thumping against the ground in an agitated way.
The Hexer catches Vel's eye over the crowds, smiles slightly and walks deliberately away towards the horse lines.
Vel continues to accept bids for another quarter hour, then signals that she plans to take the night air -- as if to make a decision.
When she believes herself to be alone, she makes her way to the pickets.
Vel experiences some difficulty communicating her desire to contemplate the multitudinous offers alone, but eventually, the message sinks in. The warriors finally decide they've done enough for now and leave, with many promises to return later in the evening. One or two seem slightly disgruntled.
The Hexer is waiting quietly, looking at the warhorses.
Arianwyn considers how the tribe might best help the group, and asks his companions for their thoughts.
Vel nods and smiles to the hexer, then moves over to Viren and starts to talk to him softly, blowing in his nose and generally doing things the horsetrader had taught her to look as though she knows what she's doing.
Vel puts up an unexpectedly convincing performance as an experienced horseman as the Hexer continues to watch her in silence. As he does so, his fingers move quietly in a familiar pattern. At length, he speaks to her.
"What is your real offer? I do not think that heads truly interest you."
Arianwyn smirks as he sees the Hexer and Vel talking.
"Well, we know what help she will request." he says to Whiteclaw.
"Can you think of any material aid they can give us? Bark once for yes, and twice for no." he adds jokingly.
"Funny." Whiteclaw says as she lounges in her canine form. "I never realized that you had a sense of humor." she dryly, and jokingly replies. "I don't know what sort of aid they can provide, it seems to me all they want to do is play a rituals. Testing people who want to help you, as if a true enemy would bother to play such games." She snorts. "They should just tell us what we need and let us save them, though they won't. I already miss Kyleth. She was evil, yes, but at least she was direct."
"What is your real offer? I do not think that heads truly interest you."
Rev:
Vel
He smiles broadly. "For now, I say only that this is a long night of feasting and song. You are powerful, but you are also beautiful. You are a warrior, Bone Rider. Fire runs through your fierce bones. I am Morgzil the Searcher and I have found you."
Vel
He gestures towards the campfires, murmuring confidentially, "You are magnificent, Vel. If you accept my offer, you will bring glory to our clan and to yourself. But for my own sake, I must ask this. Do you snore? My first wife did and it lead to trouble."
Vel laughs and returns to the campfire.
Morghiz the Searcher goes in search of Arianwyn, Kia and Whiteclaw and greets them, speaking in perfect common.
"Your clan-mate is an extraordinary woman. I wish to bring her to my tent and seek to woo her. I want to know that this will be acceptable to her kin and what dowry she will bring. She gives consent. I think," he adds thoughtfully, looking at Vel's tall figure in the distance.
"I must also ask her other brother, but he is occupied." Morghiz points to Reason who is still surrounded by children and fluttering frantically with his phrase book.
Whiteclaw looks at Kia and Arianwyn with a look that says 'All yours.' and a little smirk crosses her muzzle.
"It is acceptable." Arianwyn replies in a deadpan manner.
Rev:
Morghiz smiles appreciatively.
"You know her value. I shall wait to learn of her dowry in due time. She will bring lustre to our clan and doom to our foes. That and she makes me burn with longing," he adds, frankly.
"A word for you. The Caves of the Moon Mare are not entirely of this world. Walk with caution. There are things within that should not be wakened. Remember you seek the mark of her blessing and do not violate her temple."
He strides away, intent on finding Vel again.
Vel
At dawn, the Warleader and her archers escort you to the caves. The tundra seems especially bleak here as the trackless hills rise around you, eventually leading to a narrow slit in the rock.
"There lie the caves, kinsmen. In truth, these are no caves, but a temple, built long ago. This entrance is misleading. Beyond the first corner, there is room to move. None shall pass us until your return. We will wait for you here."
At her signal, the archers spread out and blend quietly into the landscape.
EDIT:
Vel
Arianwyn/Vel
Arianwyn/Rev: