When Yuto smashes her wine bottle Noro gets even angrier. she simply charges Yuto leaping in the air attempting a knee to the face.
Yuto simply sidesteps in anticipation of her attack leaving Noro on her face on the ground. red trickling from her mouth, her teeth blood red.
"Apologies do nothing to heal the hurt. Anyone can say they are sorry, but if you mean it, you'll put actions to your words."
The man takes a sip from the tankard Bethana had filled only a few moments before. Korl stares into the depths of his, like he's trying to divine what just happened from the patterns in the froth.
"Are we quite done with your tantrum?" He asks before he kicks her in the belly. The blow lacks the force it could have delivered, but it will still leave a stinging bruise.
Noro winces at the pain of the kick. laying still fo a moment, trying to gather herself.
You shaid until one of us is unable. I am shtill here. are you unable? or unwilling.
Looking a bit waering. she has fought alot today. the fatigue starting to set in. Noro still has a little fight left in her. with a spin Noro finds her way to her feet and in her spin she attempts a kick. the move was executed nearly perfect. leaving her standing and breathing heavily
she can barely lift her hands to fight anymore. deep inside she knows this fight is over. her own stubborness keeps her going now.
Yuto knows he has this won. anything further would be simple humiliation. the choice now resides with him on how to proceed.
Fatigued: A fatigued character can neither run nor charge and takes a –2 penalty to Strength and Dexterity. Doing anything that would normally cause fatigue causes the fatigued character to become exhausted. After 8 hours of complete rest, fatigued characters are no longer fatigued.
Yuto easily dodges Noro's blow.
"You come here and challenge me, then ask if I'm unwilling? You are more of fool than I thought." He tries once more to sweep Noro's feet from under her. The brawler is proving to be quicker than he realizes as she staggers back just enough to avoid falling to the ground again. Yuto frowns, his face turning red as if Noro's refusal to fall is an affront to him.
Lou stands at the edge of dojo, years of training keeping him from calling out. His eyes and the stiffness of his stance betrays his feelings however. No matter how much they may have fought and argued in the past, that was his sister out there with a man who was fully capable of killing her.
Noro stands her ground still breathing heavy.
She does not strike. she takes a moment to looks around her. those that stood by her side old friends and new ones.
I only wanted you to be my father. she holds her stance ready for whatever he has planned. refusing to quit.
but she does not strike.
The world melts away as Olivius becomes fully engrossed in the drama playing out at a open air dojo. He never got to have this kind of conversation with his father. Or any other kind of conversation for that matter. He was afraid to. Failure was not an option in House Telraven. You succeeded. There was no failure. This is why he didn't openly admit his heritage. Beside the instant suspicion and noteriety it would garner, it would mean claiming something that had been stripped of him.
A family, an identity, and a sence of Place.
Yuto laughs. It's not a pleasant sound, it is filled with venom and hate.
"Ah, so now you hope that I will be overcome with emotion and beg forgiveness for being so cruel?" He walks around her, his words like daggers. "Child, you have obviously learned nothing. I strive for perfection and I demand it of my students. I have no need of a daughter who refuses to listen, who turns her nose up at wisdom, and who cavorts with brigands and thieves. The day you lashed out in anger was the day you were dead to me. Perhaps I should make it so physically as well. Then, perhaps, you will finally learn."
His first strike drives his knee into Noro's belly. As she doubles over in pain, the heel of his hand slams hard into the back of her neck. Noro drops to the ground, her consciousness leaving her. Yuto reaches down and grabs the front of her tunic. He pulls his hand back to deliver a death blow when Lou's voice rings out.
"Father! STOP! That's enough!"
Yuto's eyes smolder, hatred and disgust burning in their depths.
"Very well. Take this trash out of my dojo." he says as he tosses her toward the party before turning to walk away.
Olivius is there as soon as he recognizes that he may enter without shaming Noro. The guisarme slides onto his back as he moves and be stoops to check for a pulse.
But his emotions are a swirling cloud that muddys his every thought. It doesn't look like anything's broken though, so he scoops up the fighter and carries her off the Dojo floor. He doesn't dare look at her father. He might do something he'll regret.
He also afraid that he might not regret it
Noro attempted to block, but her fatigue was too much. the block was useless. The first blow was enough to put her down barely able of much else, tears fell but it wasn't for long. she just wanted to die.
Noro lay there unmoving.
Asuriel's eyes rapidly shoot between Tharis and Korl multiple times as she tries to divine the meaning of his words.
Wait, what? Actions?
Caught off guard she says, "I, I--"
Asuriel had proffered an apology as she was supposed to. He was supposed to accept it. She could then nod and walk out of this place.
I knew this was a mistake.
With some reluctance she bows her head in deference to Tharis. Well, mostly in deference, she doesn't completely trust him and keeps her head high enough she can still look up at him. She sweeps her right hand out toward him palm up and places her left palm on her chest.
Actions? What could he possibly want? Why hasn't he just said 'apology accepted'? It's noto like actually hurt him!
Asuriel's hands tingle with anxiety as she tries to relax and prevent the switch from going off in her head. She had come this far she couldn't back out now. It takes a fair amount of inner strength not to clench her jaw and exhibit continued patience.
With some effort she says, "Sir, if you do not accept my apology then I am to ask you of what it is I may provide that will allow us to move past this ... unfortunate incident. I was on edge from battle earlier this day and was not thinking clearly. I meant nothing by it and if you accept my sincerest apology we can all move on."
Her head still is bowed and she grudgingly lowers her straight posture somewhat, hoping a slight submission will suffice.
"We may be tainted, but words hurt us like everyone else."
Korl finally looks up from his tankard.
"'Soides, how do we know ye ain't one o' 'em Sarenrites that're all 'Flame an' death' to any who don't believe wot ye do?" Something in his tone gives the impression that he's had personal experience with those followers of the Dawnflower.
"Not sayin' ye are, jus' that ye sure act like 'em." Korl mutters before taking a long pull from his mug.
Asuriel's posture eases some, once again surprised by the words from Tharis. While she doesn't relax completely, the anxiety that had been present begins to dissipate. She slowly lifts her head as she thinks on the words of the men before her.
Her gaze moves to the floor, not wanting to look them in the eyes quite yet. "I have had rather bad experiences with a group of tieflings years ago and it clouds my judgement sometimes and forces me to react by memory rather than what I see before my eyes. I am guilty of judging you by your appearance instead of your attempt at friendly conversation."
She raises her gaze at Burl as she stands up to a normal posture once more. "This is a fair question as I have had personal interaction with a few zealots myself. The Dawnflower empowers us to strike those down who cannot be redeemed or those that deny the light, however, those actions should always be a last resort. We are first of compassion, healing and guidance, always."
Asuriel looks over the men and nods. She had found her action that she would take. She blows out her last anxious breath and allows herself to be at peace.
"I have misjudged you and you have asked for me to demonstrate my good will. I promise to you that I shall not inflict any harm to you this day. I have heard of you tell your good deeds this day down at the docks and so I put myself at your service to heal any harm that may have come to you in protection of this great town. You have walked in the light and have shown me the error of your ways."
Asuriel turns both palms face up towards the ceiling and raises her head looking up but seems to be focusing past the ceiling somewhere up above.
"Let the mercy of Sarenrae take away your all your pain and discomfort."
Thirzin tosses down his shield and axe, shaking his head in utter frustration at this.. creature. Damn strange humans. This is no father. If ever we face this man again, outside this ring, and he strikes her again...I will find a way to END HIM."
Settling down a bit, he begins to work on saving their...drinking...friend?
As the dwarf works with an almost unnatural understanding of the wounds the human woman has received, he speaks quietly under his breath. "Don't you die now, woman. You hear ol' Thirzin? You are not. DYING. NOW."
Each moment, he draws on more and more untrained knowledge, pushing anyone away who tries to approach and interfere in his work.
Thirzin seems to be very desperate to save the woman, more than is appropriate for a dwarf to be willing to save a stranger. Especially someone who is not a dwarf. Something...is not quite right.
Jaw clenched on words to Yuto Kasuri that would only make things worse, Pavanna dashes up beside Olivius and the semi-conscious woman he’s carrying. One glance tells her all she needs to know. So many people forget that fists can kill just as easily as swords or arrows. Or words.
“Iomedae, spadkobiercą i ministrem cześć, proszę was: udzielić kobiecie siłę do walki innego dnia.”
Horatio isn't afraid to shoot a glance at Yuto Katsuri - his jaw may be set hard, his lips pressed ion a straight line to hold back his words, but the venom and fury in his eyes is clear enough.
Olivius is already holding the unconscious woman, and Pavanna's seen to her - he recognizes the spell; it's clear enough to him that Noro will be alright. Not wanting to crowd the brawler, he instead heads for Lou, grasping his shoulder warmly. "It's alright," he says firmly, as if convincing himself at the same time. "She's badly beaten, but she'll be fine."
“Thirzin, she’ll be all right,” the tiefling assures her comrade, a little alarmed — and baffled — by the note of desperation in his care to Noro. “He didn’t break anything, for all that he tried,” she adds venomously, with a momentary glare at the elder Kasuri, “and a good night’s rest will do her bruises and head a world of good.”
I’ve met a few dwarves in my time in Magnimar, and I don’t recall any of them being so invested in a comrade they had just made, especially a ‘taller’. There’s a story there; I must ask him about it once Noro’s safe.
“I think we’ve done all we can here,” she says to the others, softly. “Olivius, do you need any help getting her back to the Dragon?”
Turning a fulminating look on Yuto Kasuri, she takes a deep breath and bites out her next words, trying to control her outrage. “Mister Kasuri, I don’t know what brought your relationship with your daughter to this state, but after knowing Noro for less than a day, I think you’re a fool to treat her this way. The goblins that attacked Sandpoint this very day could have slain dozens or scores — and Noro Kasuri was a good part of stopping them. In my view, any man or woman who does not hesitate to put the lives of innocents above their own is one worth proudly claiming as friend or family.”
Her piece said, Pavanna turns away from Yuto Kasuri and starts back towards town after Olivius, asking the others to follow her with a look... and trying not to let her heavy heart affect her bearing or gait.
Speechless - a condition he is unfamiliar with, and which confuses him - Horatio watches as Pavanna gives Yuto a piece of her mind. He gives Lou's shoulder one more squeeze, once more assuring him that his sister will be fine, and catches up to the tiefling woman as she heads away.
"I must say, I'm getting sick of seeing Noro get beat on," he mutters to her, casting a worried glance at the unconscious woman in Olivius' arms. "And I'll be surprised if he doesn't come after you next, with the way you just spoke to him."
“‘The path of the righteous is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyrannies of the evil. Blessed are those who, in the name of charity and goodwill, shepherd the weak through the valley of darkness; for they are truly their brothers’ keepers, and the finders of lost children. And I will strike down upon you with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers; and you shall know my name is IOMEDAE, when justice is laid upon you.’” For all the fiery wording of her quotation from the Acts of Iomedae, Pavanna sounds grim, determined, but... almost tired. “If he wants to take a swing at me, I won’t be hard to find — but when it’s over, win or lose he’ll know he was in a fight.”
The tiefling shakes her head, glancing up at her Korvosan friend. “It’s times like this that make me grateful Quinta Alazario adopted me. As often as I tried her patience or sense of decorum as I grew up, she’s never tried to dictate the course of my life to me. She taught me right and wrong, tried to show me the way of patience and moderation, urged me to strive to better myself and walk the path of the just... but she has always, always loved me for exactly who I am. Triumphs and disappointments, strengths and flaws, proud moments and embarrassments — all loved in equal measure.” She shoots a dirty look back towards the Kasuri household. “A shame more parents don’t have that example to follow.”
The passage from the Acts sends a shiver running down the bard's spine. Never, ever get on this woman's bad side. "Quinta. She's your adopted mother, then?" Horatio's eyebrows twitch in a slight frown at the words. For a moment, he almost asks, What happened to your real parents? but he catches himself, instead saying, "It sounds like she taught you well - and that she loves you very much." He briefly wraps one arm around his friend's soulders in a sideways half-hug, letting go after only a moment. "I used to think a parent's love was unconditional. And in the case of mine, it was. Until I br-" He catches himself, arresting the words before they can fall off his tongue. No. Don't think about that. Not now.
"Well," he shrugs, "let's just say there are some things a father can't deal with." He stares out over the street, over the small town he longs to escape from. "For what it's worth, she was smart to love you the way you are. Unfortunately, not all people are so wise."
Pavanna almost rolls her eyes at the question about her mother, but catches herself and turns it into a crooked smile. Horatio is Chelish by blood, but unless he’s been there, he can’t know the truth of today’s Cheliax. “Since ‘Hell started doing the bidding of the House of Thrune’, the people of Cheliax have had ever-more tiefling children. They’re considered... embarrassments, a sign of weakness, that their parents or their parents’ forebears were too foolish to keep proper control of their ‘transactions’ with their fiendish ‘servants’. I was a foundling, left at the Dorjanala by a Wiscrani mother who could not raise a ‘tainted’ child, either from shame or simple lack of means. I’ve never known who my birth-parents may be, and it doesn’t matter to me: Quinta Alazario is my mother in every way that counts.”
Horatio’s brief sidelong embrace sends a wave of warmth through her, and she almost misses his quick footwork around another revelation from his own past. Steady, lass; don’t pry. The man will trust you with himself in his own time. “Thank you for saying that, Horatio.” I’d say ‘I hope you meet her someday’, but I imagine that might, erm, alarm you. “As to your father, or Noro’s... well, call me an optimist, but while they live, I can hope that they’ll realise their mistake some day. Perhaps soon, perhaps after a long demonstration of how wrong they’ve been... but living is learning, and while both parent and child draw breath, they still have the chance.”
“Olivius, do you need any help getting her back to the Dragon?”
No. His simple reply is strained, like a cord ready to snap. He sets off with an easy gait, like Noro's weight is no more than a trifle.
He is too focused on Noro to really notice anything odd in the dwarf Thirzin's concern. He's just thankful someone is there who looks like they know what they're doing.
Pavanna's magic seems to do the trick of stabilizing Noro, and Olivius is grateful. He catches himself not inwardly questioning the new friends he's made.
This would be just like Father. Send people I like just to have them betray me later...
But the thought is fleeting.
His companions talk as they walk back toward the Dragon. Pavanna recounts the conditions she grew up under and her eternal optimism, Olivius scoffs quietly. Never be so certain. You travel among many people with broken family ties. Not all harms are reparable.
This group was more alike in its history than he dared hope. Maybe he had a chance here to find a place among people who understood. In spite of his bitter words, a small spring of hope pops into existance beside him. If so many stood by Noro in her trial, maybe they'd stand by him too.
"Sounds like a rough life," Horatio mutters, memories playing through his mind of life in Old Korvosa. His eyes fall briefly to the ground, as if carefully watching his steps - he remembers his own bare feet racing across the Shingles, leaping between roofs and rafters, the few terrifying falls. The long nights in a two-room apartment, sleeping on a moth-eaten mattress and drifting off to the smell of fish and the sound of absolute silence. The days of grey skies and grey walls and the oppressive misma of depression that cloaked every person, every living thing. "I've heard enough about Cheliax to know of the tiefling children... I had no idea you were so unlucky." He sets his mouth in a hard line, chewing briefly on his lower lip. Damnit, think. What can you say to this? "I'm sorry," he says finally. "Nobody should have to know how it feels to be an embarassment. I'm glad Quinta took you in - she raised you well." Better than your parents raised you. Sweet barleybrew, lad, look at you!
Shaking his head slightly, clearing the thoughts that were creeping in like the miasma of Old Korvosa, he smiles briefly at Pavanna's thanks. "My father softened again after a while. It just took something drastic... and to this day, part of me thinks he's glad it happened." He kicks a pebble as he walks, watching it bounce off the toe of his boot and clatter away across the path. "I hope it won't take such measures for Yuto to come around."
Korl smirks as he turns his attention to the young priestess.
"'Twas a mighty fine feelin', lass. Don't suppose ye could find a way ta bottle that?" He raises his mug in a salute before taking another pull.
"Methinks ye even made the brew from the Two Knights taste just a little sweeter." He says with wink, and brings a sigh from Tharis.
"Forgive him. My Caydenite friend forgets himself sometimes."
"Only when tryin' ta drink ye under the table."
Once the group makes it back to the Dragon, Ameiko turns to Olivius.
"I have a room you can take her to. She'll need to rest after... after that." she says as she looks over Noro. The woman looks like a small girl in Olivius' arms, and though her breathing is steady, it's shallow and her skin is pale.
Ping had been sitting quietly for some time when the others returned. She had been watching the drama between Asuriel and the tieflings, but when she saw Noro being carried by Olivius, her attentions were focused squarely on them.
"Whathappened?!Isshealright?!Ohmigosh!Ohmigosh!Ohmigosh!WhatcanIdotohelp?!"
Olivius follows Ameiko up to the room and gently lays Noro down before excusing himself to his room. His mood is too foul to pay much heed to the attention his appearance attracts. Today has turned out to be just as trying as yesterday and a good night's sleep sounded splendid right now.
In his room he removes his armor and goes through a nightly ritual of repair, polish, and maintenance. He sews up the few tears, cleans the blood with sand, and works out the smaller knicks in his short spear's blade with a whetstone. The monotony of the work is therapudic and soon he has calmed into the work.
Ping follows Olivius up to the room, but stays with Noro, Lou and Ameiko.
"Is she... Is she going to be okay?" she asks, worried about what had happened.
"I don't know little one." Lou says, his voice rough and cracking, like he had not talked in a long time. "She's hurt, but she's tough."
Lou goes silent, but Ameiko twitches like she just noticed something crawling on her neck.
"Not to be rude, but who are you?" she asks, a look of confusion on her face.
Which makes it all the more jarring when a familiar face appears.
"Ameiko, I hope you have some of that delicious stew of yours and plenty to drink!" Aldern shouts as he bursts through the door. When he looks around and sees that everyone is rather subdued he looks confused.
"I know there are a few unfortunate souls that fell this day, but I honestly expected the Dragon to be less like a funeral. What happened."
A close look reveals that Aldern is a little green, and a cold sweat covers his forehead.
Despite clearing te tieflings of any wrong doing, she still would rather seek her company elsewhere. She makes polite conversation with them and apologizes once more before heading back off to collect her things. She is about to leave when the group transports Noro in looking less than stellar.
It would seem that she has charged into battle once more, this time with a less than favorable outcome.
She watches them take her upstairs and she closes the distance offering her aid and support, following them to her room."Light save her, what happened?! Let me have a look at her.
As the rest of the group heads upstairs, the dwarf heads for the bar, motioning for another mug to be filled, as he begins to drink away his nerves, pushing back old memories and fiddling with the torn edges of his shirt. "Damn..." is all the burly bearded male utters between sips and gulps of alcohol, hoping its memory curative powers will aid him tonight.
Horatio follows the others up just long enough to make sure Noro's alright, leaving when Asuriel rushes in. He casts a glance at the woman that seems to say, take care of her - then he's heading back downstairs, leaning on the bar next to Thirzin and motioning for a drink of his own.
He drinks in silence with the dwarf, sipping at his fourth mug of the evening. "Nobody deserves this," he mutters eventually, apparently to Thirzin, but in reality, to nobody in particular. Cayden Cailean didn't believe in drinking to drown one's sorrows, but hell - every now and then, it was needed. Besides, the Drunken Hero wouldn't mind too much this one time. Would he?
Asuriel works her way into the room insisting she be allowed to treat the barbarian. After looking over the wounds all that she is able to surmise is that the woman took a serious pounding in multiple locations over her whole body.
Seeing that the woman still needed further assistance she bonded herself to Noro for the second time this day. Asuriel winces as the wounds transfer from Noro to her own body and instantly drops the link after just a few seconds.
She tremors slightly as she always seems to do when she establishes the link. Even though she has been doing this for over a fifteen years now she has never gotten used to the burst of pain when she links with another. Perhaps it's penance for her ancestors sins?
Ignoring the internal pain screaming up and down her body, she determines the woman is still not yet whole uses her last spell of the day and and heals the remainder of Noro's wounds through a prayer to the Dawnflower. She places her hand on Noro's forehead and looks toward the ceiling as she closes her eyes. Recounting the words by memory she says softly:
"The glory of the Dawnflower shines upon us.
More precious than gold, your shining splendor.
Sweeter than honey, your radiant forgiveness.
Oh dispeller of darkness, shining one,
radiant and effulgent goddess of mercy,
You banish choking night and the blindness of our ignorance.
The Dawn brings new light. Sarenrae be praised."
She explains to Lou that she has something that will help with the swelling and bruising from her injuries even though the wounds have healed. With permission, she removes pieces of Noro's clothing and armor and begins to apply a few ointments to her skin to ease the bruising and pain that may still linger from her attack. She assumed there was a rationale of some kind behind these wounds, but she does not ask and does her best to mind her own business and do what she does best.
Ping, looks at Asuriel, at first with curiosity, then concern as she notices the woman's breathing is labored and the pallor that cannot be concealed by the faint sheen of her skin.
"You don't look so good. Are you okay?"
“It was often far from perfect,” she admits freely. A hundred little incidents flash across her mind. The condescending sneers of Wiscrani matriarchs and their husband-hunting daughters, as they look at her like Asuriel did earlier today, like she’s something to be scraped off of a boot. Rejections and jeers and insults from merchants and even random passersby in the streets of Westcrown. The humiliation, the terror, of that horrible time when those three despicable little thugs — Probably all Hellknights by now, I’d wager! — threw her off a bridge, and thrashing through the water, too weighed down by her robes to swim well, unable to climb the slick stones of the canal linings.... Before that day, I never would have thought I’d ever be glad to see a Condottari gondola!
“But I also know I was far luckier than many, human or tiefling. I feel for folk who have had to endure and escape from places of squalor, poverty, and hopelessness, but I’ve never shared those circumstances. I was bullied and ridiculed at times, but it wasn’t a daily thing, and between Mother’s deeds and the support of others, I was never made to feel so worthless that I had to join something like the Bastards of Erebus to ‘strike back’ at those who wronged me. I never went hungry, and I had a comfortable home, books to learn from, and stories to inspire me. More importantly, I had a mother who never confused my heritage for my nature or my fate, and who always told me that no matter what bigots and puffed-up Wiscrani nobles might claim, I am not ‘less’ than anyone else simply because of these.” Her hand goes to her horns, then her ears. “That I am kind, I am smart, I am strong, and I matter — and even through all the horrible moments, I clung to that. I might be an ‘embarrassment’ to Cheliax and its ‘notables’... but Cheliax was never ‘home’ to me then, and it is long behind me now. I may have embarrassed my Mother, more than once, but she’s never made me feel like an embarrassment to her.
“My adoption may have been the greatest fortune of my life.”
“It seems her father... disapproves of some of her choices, and Noro brought the matter to a formal duel. I think she hoped that defeating him might shock him enough to make him rethink matters. She had power and passion to burn, but he was far more skilled,” Pavanna says, wearily. ‘Age and skill will defeat youth and strength every time’, as the old duelists say. “I managed to keep her alive, but I’ve no more healing in me for the next while.”
She steps back and lets the taller woman work healing on the unconscious brawler, putting aside their earlier clash for the moment. Seeing Asuriel waver as she takes Noro’s injures onto herself, the tiefling almost intervenes, but clamps down on the impulse. Whatever her reasons for disliking me, Asuriel knows what she’s doing. And even if I had any magic left to heal her, I doubt she would accept aid from me.
When Ping asks Asuriel if she's okay, Ameiko gasps as she notices that the woman is not well herself.
"Lou, get her to lie down, I'm fetching Hannah."
With that, the Dragon's innkeeper leaves.
"Curiouser and curiouser..." he mutters to himself.
He looks around the tavern and sees that the members of the party are in a dark mood and two of them are missing.
"Why is everybody acting like someone died? What became of that tien woman who could fight a bear? Or the Sarenrite that speaks that funny language? And does anyone know why Ameiko left in such a rush?"
I hope Asuriel can work with this and/or make any edits she needs to. I kept getting ninja’d while I composed this, and it got to the point of ‘fish or cut bait’, so I’ll have to hope the rough version will do....
"You don't look so good. Are you okay?"
A distinct metallic taste fills her mouth as she offers Ping a weak smile, "Of course, I-I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."
Blood spills out of her mouth and runs down her cheek. Noticing the wetness on her face, she quickly wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. Glancing down at the blood smeared on her hand she simple wipes it away on a cloth as if it was expected.
Turning to Ameiko, Asuriel waves her off. She opens her mouth to speak, revealing a dark red bloody mouth. "Not necessary, not necessary. I am fine, calm yourselves please."
Asuriel glances over as Pavanna explains what happened to Noro, ending with her own heal to the woman.
“I managed to keep her alive, but I’ve no more healing in me for the next while.”
Asuriel stops tending to Noro for a few seconds to turn and look at Pavanna. She had healed the Tian woman as well, that explains why she was at least stable then. That was quick thinking on her part which probably saved further possible injury. Perhaps she had truly misjudged this ... tiefling.
Asuriel still has a hard time even thinking about this concept and pushes it aside for now, she'd worry about reconciliation of that later. Once Pavanna has explained the situation Asuriel frowns, "Not much of a father I would say. My father never put a hand to me, yet alone beat me within inches of my life."
While she speaks, another stream of blood escapes her bloody mouth. She swallows, trying to clear the blood from her mouth. Not for the taste, but so it doesn't spill down her face any further.
Asuriel opens a vial of a restorative ointment she had made earlier in the week. It mostly consistent of bark from a canaan bush, but the addition of the goji berries gave it a much sweeter smell, not to mention an orange hue.
Her hand tremors slightly as she pops the top on the vial and pours some into her hand. She rubs her hands together and fills the room with the sweet aroma from the goji berry. She says, "Now then, this should help with some of the bruising. It's a mixture my mother taught me when I was just a little girl."
She smiles as she recalls the memory with her mother, but the smile quickly fades as she realizes the irony of a sweet memory of a parental figure clashes with that of Noro's father. She stops her story and applies the ointment.
After the healing, Noro's eyes open. she takes a glance around to see who is there.
seeing Lou there and Pavanna, and Asuriel. she seems to be looking for a particular face but says nothing.
she recognizes th effect displayed by Asuriel, it happened to her before.
Noro looks again to Asuriel, in a sore and broken voice, why? trying to indicate the wound she is bearing for Noro.
Asuriel looks down as Noro's eyes open. When she speaks in a broken voice Asuriel does her best to not open her mouth again, she doesn't want everyone to see the bloody wound inside anymore. They are already growing alarmed and she doesn't want to set anyone one edge. Afterall she's here to allow the light to work through here, not cause a panic in a room of healing.
She barely parts her lips as she works in the ointment in a particular bruised area on Noro's abdomen. She simply says, "Shhhhhh. Rest.", trying to avoid any in depth conversation right now.
Noro again pushes the question Why! even in all this Noro appears to be putting forth a tough girl act.
but as Asuriel applies the ointments she can see in Noro's eyes. she is afraid.
"You aren't doing so well, either. I can help Noro apply that if need be." he says pointing to the bottle in Asuriel's hand.
Lou turns to his sister when she finally wakes up.
"Because she, and I, see what Fa-- Yuto cannot. You are a kind and caring person Noro. You care deeply for your family and others. Besides, I think this one would help anyone before herself. She's about to pass out." Lou answers.
The gruff looking dwarf shakes his head in agreement with the bard next to him, clinking his mug in appreciation of a drinking partner who understands the situation all too well.
"Agreed, lad. Too many good folks die these days...Ain't like the old days..." Thirzin finishes his drink in one long gulp, wiping the foam from around his lip and beard.
It is only when the gentleman named Aldern speaks that the dwarf turns around slowly. "Because those of us not tending to her now saw that 'Tien woman' get the ever-loving s@$*e kicked out of her (and almost killed) by a man who doesn't deserve to be the father of even a goblin." He begins the act of spitting on the floor in disgust, but then stopped halfway through the action, thinking better of it.
As he does, he motions for a drink for him and the newest individual through the door.
Horatio's jaw works silently as he listens to Pavanna's story. "I'm glad it all worked out for you," he says eventually. He wraps his arm around her shoulders again, holding it there a little longer this time. "You matter," he says finally.
Without even looking up from his mug, Horatio motions for Aldern to take a seat nearby. He nods in agreement at Thirzin's words. "Asuriel's seeing to her now. I'd assume Ameiko's gone to fetch someone to help." He lays his violin across the bar, plucking absent-mindedly at one of the strings. "Noro's going to be fine, but what we saw... Cayden's mug, I need another drink."
"My parents died when I was young. My father wasn't the most caring, but... but... Damn." is all he manages before draining the tankard in one go. He motions for another before speaking again.
"I wanted to thank you all again for saving my life, even if you couldn't save Tribbles. I was going to ask if any of you would be interested in accompanying me on a hunt in the Tickwood in a day or two, but now it looks like that may have to wait." He takes the refilled mug with a nod of thanks.
"How bad is she? I saw Ameiko running out the door as I came in. She wouldn't do that unless someone was in dire need of help." He sighs.
"She must have gone to fetch Hannah or one of the priests, and if that's the case, and you are down here, then I'm afraid there is not much that I can do." He says mostly to himself. He finishes off his second tankard in as many minutes. He motions for another and apologizes to Bethana when the halfling woman comes to refill it again. Another word of thanks, and he returns his attention to Thirzin and Horatio.
"By the way, do you know where that lovely mage who downed the goblin lines went? I would like to personally thank her and compliment her on her bravery and skill. I never knew that mages like that existed!"
The man's whole being brightens up when he asks about Saroune. It seems that the noble was quite taken with her performance.
"She's in a bad way," Horatio mutters into his fourth mug of the evening. "She'll live, but she's..." He shakes his head. "I hate seeing a woman all beaten like that.
"I guess we could all use the hunt once Noro's recovered. Take our minds off these horrible events." He sighs as he downs the last of his ale, shaking his head. I should stop drinking, he thinks, glancing down at his hands - but before he can stop himself, he's already got another mug.
"Saroune? She's really something, isn't she?" Always had a thing for Varisians, eh, ever since- He takes a deep drink, as if the liquid will physically drown the thought. "I'd say she's upstairs... I haven't been paying much attention. Between the goblins and Noro, I think my head just wants to shut off." He chuckles weakly, casting a glance toward the stairs. Hope Pavanna gets down here soon. I could use something familiar in all this.
Saroune opened the door to the Rusty Dragon. She had stepped outside during the post-fight celebration for some light reading. Nothing recharged her quite like a good book. She had heard a commotion though and she thought she spied Olivius carry Noro bodily into the inn. The only people at the bar were Horatio, Thirzin, and the noble from earlier.
She overheard their conversation as she approaches, but the news that Noro was severely injured came as a major shock. The Tien woman had been fine only an hour ago.
"Actually," the wizard remarked dryly, "I'm right behind you. What in Seven Hells happened out there?"
Aldern's face positively beams when he sees Saroune, but his expression quickly sobers when he understands the question she just asked.
"I'm afraid I don't know the details, but from what I have heard from master Horatio and... " he pauses a second, trying unsuccessfully to recall if he's heard Thirzin's name, so he falls back on what he hopes is a safe title, "the good dwarf here, she was beaten, rather brutally, by her father."
He sighs and looks back up at her, "Ameiko left only a moment ago, to fetch Hannah or one of the priests from the cathedral. She is in good hands for now, I suspect, and I do not think having us crowd her and worry over her will help her heal. That said, I would like to have a moment to thank you again for saving me. Your timely magicks and brilliant use of them broke those goblins and allowed you and your companions to carry the battle! I would dearly love to have a few moments of your time." He finishes as he stands and places an arm gently around Saroune's shoulders. Before leading her to a nearby table, he turns to Horatio.
"Seeing as this has been a rough day for all of us, I think it would be crass of me to ask you to perform tonight. When things are calmer, I would love to hear you play for more than a half minute, Master Horatio."
And with that, goes off to have a few minutes to talk to Saroune. Shortly after that, another person approaches the Ranger and the Bard.
"Well friend, it looks loike ye're on yer way to drownin' yer sorrows. Mind if I join ye?" Says a tiefling, one that Horatio barely recognizes from yesterday as being here.
"Korl o' Westcrown, follower o' the Lucky Drunk an' a man in need o' a better drinkin' buddy than Tharis o'er there. I think he's become a mite bit smitten with that Iomedaen goirl that was in here." Korl points to another Tiefling that is lost, staring into his mug. Horatio can also recognize this one as one of a few tieflings that he saw in here yesterday.
Sighing, Pavanna nods to Lou. “Thank you. Would you mind taking care of them both until Ameiko returns? I have my differences with Asuriel, here —” To put it mildly! “— but I don’t wish any real harm on her, and I suspect she’s more likely to rest at ease if I’m elsewhere.”
With that, she excuses herself from Noro’s room and heads back down to the taproom. I hope Horatio’s going easy on the beer. If this afternoon’s events are weighing on him the way they are on me, he might be looking for numbness rather than gaiety, counter to Cayden Cailean’s creed....
She comes to the foot of the stairs in time to see the nobleman from earlier — Aldern something? — drawing Saroune to one side, and one of Tharis’ compatriot tieflings approaching Horatio and Thirzin. Torn both ways for a moment, she wavers, then sighs and, once again, turns to rescue Horatio from himself. Triage, always triage. Besides, I think Saroune’s safe enough with a dandy like him. She stifles a giggle at a stray thought: If nothing else, she can always hit him with another wave of jargon and knock him senseless!
As she moves, a mischievious impulse prompts her to lighten her steps as best she can, hoping to startle the tiefling talking to her friends. Hearing his introduction makes her glad for it: she’s never quite been sure why Mother had to uproot their lives and move across a quarter of Avistan, but some instinct at the back of her head has always told her that whatever that reason is, it’s probably a good reason to be just a little paranoid.
Hearing Korl’s comment about Tharis and herself, she cuts in dryly: “I’m flattered, but he’ll still have to wait until tomorrow.”
Looking to Horatio, she looks between him and his mug meaningfully. “Uh, Horatio, you might want to slow down. Today’s been a mixed blessing, and a hangover will do nothing to get tomorrow off to a good start. Besides, one of my teachers was fond of telling me that ‘trying to drown your sorrows usually does nothing but teach them how to swim’.”
As Lou applies the ointment now Noro simply pushes it away. Go Away! she tells everyone still in the room. still trying to be tough.
she rolls over in the bed her back to everyone. silently wincing at the pain. She's been hit and punched before, lots of times in fact. but this hurt more than those times.
Noro closes her eyes, trying, but failing, to hold back tears.