Smendor quickly moves his shield to his back and goes to each of the windows in the back room and bashed them out with a quick sequence of two handed swings of his axe. Soon after both windows have been cleared the dense smoke inside the room quickly dissipates. Smendor grabs the blanks that are setting on the bed and move into the front room.
You can hear Smendor yelling from inside the cottage,”Someone get me some blasted water.”
It seems the window curtains, and the items that had been piled at (J18) started the fire.
He then makes his way over to the west side window at (H16) and removes the derby again with a sequence of quick two handed swings of his axe.
As the smoke is clearing Smendor drops his axe and goes after the primary fire with the blanks from the other room. The fire has not really advance all that much due to the damp condition and very high humidity. The wet items are causing a lot of smoke, but very little open flame.The other members look on the scene with a dumfound look on their faces as Smendor seemingly ignores the chance of being burned, and just goes about the job of removing the fire. There is something outside the rules of normality allowing Smendor the power to fight the fire.
Drake has rushed over to assist Gan, who is stumbling from the cottage retching and coughing. Even as Drake moves up he sees that Hermia has been laid on the grass, and Gan is turning, coughing and choking.
Gan takes a waterskin and pours water in a cloth and keeps wiping his eyes gently and the smoke from his face. He then takes a wet piece of white silk, somewhat translucent, and wraps it around his eyes. He can see, though not well, and the fabric will protect his vision somewhat. Further, with wet wraps around his mouth and face, he is better suited to rush and help Smendor who is calling for help putting out the fire.
Drake leans over Hermia and tears open her bodice. He sees that a massive slice starting at her collar bone runs it way over her torso, down to her stomach. It is about six inches deep and has sliced through her right lung tissues, tearing it open and filling it with blood. It has finished in her upper abdomen, slicing into her stomach and allowing pus and bile to gush out into her bloodstream as well as splatter into her lungs. If the massive blood loss alone didn’t kill her, this would have certainly done so.
Smendor has made a cursory examination of the cottage. He quickly realizes the problem is not simply the moldy, dusty, burning curtains, but the massive amount of clutter that is present and around the place. Scattered heaps of dried fungi, herbs, spilled tonics, rotten wood for the table and crude benches… and a few moldy wooden countertops. The place is reeking with easily burning rot. It is likely that it will not be a problem in terms of consuming the building in a holocaust, but the smoke is the real problem, making it hard to breathe and see.
Even now Smendor has grabbed two buckets and runs down to the pond with them, but seeing Gan, he orders the lean samurai to do so, and the lad obeys. Smendor has been enough forges and his races natural tendency to tolerate the heat of a good blaze makes him (in his opinion) better suited to deal with what is inside. He goes about the business of smashing out windows, as mentioned, and the smoke pours out of the building like a black arm reaching high into the sky. The sudden inrush of oxygen causes the fire to flare up, and Smendor’s eyebrows are singed, but luckily no harm was done. He is currently beating the last burning bits of wood and flame out with his arms, wrapped in a thick cloth, even as Gan comes running in to dump buckets of water on the mischief and end the fire.
Smendor’s quick thinking has prevented the flame from spreading to the back room of the cottage, and the weather has ensured that the roof has not caught on fire. But it is clear that the smoke has traveled high into the sky and can be seen for miles. It is likely that captain N’Var and his men can see it, and perhaps will return to assist.
Alaric dumps the body of the villain on the ground near him after dragging it out from the cottage. He kicks it once and when he sees Hermia, he kicks it again, his chest heaving from the heavy exertion of trying to move quickly with the thick smoke in the air. Other then coughing a bit and red, runny eyes, though, he seems to be unharmed.
Drake, leaning over to comfort Dasha, who has crawled over, and is prostrating herself on the fallen Hermia, looks up with a blank stare at Alaric, who is standing over the dead monster. Rubbing Dasha’s shoulders he maintains the gaze, takes a moment to pause and cover Hermia’s wounds with her cloak, so that she is not exposed and left to the elements.
”So?”Drake says flatly to Alaric; the horror of the massacre of Hermia still fresh on his psyche. ”What now?
Smendor is tossing chair legs, table legs, blanks, and a host of other items outside as he finishes his work on the cottage fire. The items that he can keep such as cook pots, or tools he puts in one stack while all the stuff that is worthless goes into a second stack.
Alaric is numb. The evil that this thing perpetrated upon our group is hideous but the loss of Hermia strikes especially hard. Despite some friction at times he truly liked the woman and saw that they could become good friends in the future. The shock and adrenaline begins to wear off and as it does the tears begin to come. He lets them flow down his cheeks as he gently moves Dasha away before closing Hermia's bodice and murmuring the words to a spell to clean her up and return her to a semblance of dignity. That done he picks her up gently and begins carrying her towards where their horses were hobbled. Without looking back he says to Drake and Gan and Smendor, bring his body and everything he has on him. Do not touch anything though, it may be cursed until I have had a chance to examine it. I am taking Hermia back. With that he will cease talking and walk back to the horses. Once there he will mount the horse and tie the other one to his pommel, holding Hermia to him as he rides back to Oleg's.
Ariarh walks directly to the stables to check if Brett or any of the other companions are there. As she enters she spies Tal and Stybba but no sign of Stybba's owner. She strides over to stalls and gives them each a gentle pat on their necks. "Where's your master, valiant Stybba?" Ariarh didn't expect the pony to answer back, of course, but since she was seemingly alone at present, the horses were her only audience. Ariarh pulls out the two apples she found atop the barrel by the door of the stables as she entered. She feeds one to Tal and the other to Stybba and leaves them happily munching away, heading first to Oleg's office and, if he could not be found there, then to the kitchen where Svetlana would probably be cooking. It was mighty strange indeed that none of her companions seemed present at the trading post currently.
"Master Oleg, are you there?", Ariarh queries, hoping to hear an answer.
Oleg comes bustling out of the counting house after a moment, his face looking somewhat confused.
”Aye indeed, lass. I am that, and you seem fairly worn out to be walking about… How do you fare, eh? Well, I trust.”
”I… I am wondering if you have seen my companion, Brett,”she says politely. The smell of roasting apples, frying bacon, and coffee perking under the awning is making her stomach grumble, but she waits patiently for a reply, deciding to say nothing of her dream… not as yet.
Meanwhile, Dior leans forward and arches his little back, letting out a kittenish yawn through his beak, and trots over to the smell of sizzling bacon, staring up at Svetlana who watches him stare up at her with unblinking golden eyes. She grins benignly and tosses him a piece which Dior pounces on, laughing as he shreds the bacon with his little claws and bats it about, before chomping it up, licking his chops and looking up for another piece.
”Aye, master Brett… he had some odd notion and went about to look for something. Been around back to yer stables, out back.”
Ariarh seemed to accept that, and leaving Dior to attack more bacon, wandered quickly to the outer stables that Drake had built so recently. Dior gives the last scrap of bacon a mournfully disappointed look, seeing his mistress hurry off, then, looking between the two, he turns, pounces on a last piece and comes jogging after her with the bacon in his beak even as he is snapping it up.
When she got there she saw Brett chatting with one of N’Var’s men, and he nods and turns from him.
”Just as I thought… they hadn’t seen it, because they kept their horses in with their own folk, but the man in black… he done brought a horse, and stowed it in here… and here it is!”
Ariarh looks up and sees a black charger. Tall, powerful, and stately. Her eye for horses tells her this beast was well-bred. She examines it slowly and finds a brand on its flank; a wyvern!
”Surely this is the mount that belonged to that villain? Yet, if it was his, why did he not take it with him?”
Brett shrugged.
”Hard to say; easy to guess, I’d reckon. Place was on lock-down, if ye recall. The whole thing was guarded. He probably needed to leave quick, and so he did, never mind the horse, if he could fly.”
”Perhaps… but if he could fly, why even bring a horse?”
”Eh, hard to say… he used sorcery or some such to make them wings. Magic don’t last forever, generally. Mayhap his wings stopped working after a piece. Then again, anything be possible. Maybe the wings were on account of a potion or a scroll… maybe they were some clock-work contraption like ye might see from Numeria… I’ll not be the one to solve that mystery… But anyhow… the horse be here, and a clue on him.”
”Well, when Alaric came to get his horses, why didn’t he notice THIS one…”
”How do I know? Maybe Alaric just came to grab two horses and weren’t particular in searching the place fer new horses. Maybe he was so put out to see the other horses missing he couldn’t be sure what happened on them and forgot to look. Maybe he even SAW the horse and just figured it belonged to one of the captain’s men… I heard Alaric went back to get two horses, and that were all… I don’t know what happened next. But the horse be here…”
”Um… but I thought the man in black walked in, not rode in…”
”Well, maybe he rode from the west, which is where the stable is, as ye recall, and then dropped his horse off then walked south a piece looking to meet someone, then walked back north, his horse already stabled… Of course, he could have been dodgy and tried to fake the whole thing.”
”Well… I suppose that could have happened,”Ariarh said, biting her lip, frowning somewhat. But somehow, things seemed fairly odd about this suddenly appearing horse that just showed up in the stable with random useful clues on his body to help them in their quest. A little too pat, as were said.
”Oh fer gods’s sake! Ye know what, lass… now don’t ye be looking a gift horse in the mouth, as they say. By happy coincidence facts were missing that are now solved better with some good luck. And ye’re right, maybe we missed all the details and so forth, passing over them the first time… yes; that seems like a rather large coincidence… almost impossible to happen at all. But it is also possible that it could happen. I think that’s the important point that we need to pay attention to, and appreciate. It could happen, and it DID happen! Let’s just be happy on it, then, eh? As in… Hooray: a free horse with clues. Yay, Brett!”he adds the last with a tiny cheer as Ariarh stares on with some confusion and Dior rolls his eyes.
”Well, if you’re correct on your bout of good luck and coincidences… Then I see no saddle on this mount, and no other gear. Which means it is probably in his room, as no one has bothered to search it yet. No doubt it we search the room we can find even more clues and information, and it is possible that he may even have left the saddle in the room, and possibly some bags, or other gear that was too heavy to carry when he fly’s, right?”Ariarh retorts with a smug grin.
Brett turns a slight shade of green at this response.
”Yes,”he retorts briskly ”But it may also be that we thank the powers that be that this good luck be found and not go pushing them same powers for more good luck, because that be crazy to do, and anyhow… I think this is all the good luck we’ll find, and it is likely his room be empty of other treasures and so forth… “
Ariarh laughs gaily at that rebuttal.
”Oh come now, master Brett… you are right to suggest we should be lucky that the powers that be gave us an additional piece of good luck with this horse, but if we are going to play this game to the last card, then we should not turn our back on any chance of good fortune. If whoever knit this world placed a horse in the stables for us to find, then it is only logical to assume they would have left riding gear for the horse in the same man’s room… Why, you can’t argue with those facts, can you?”
”No, I suppose you can’t… “Brett seethes, even as he mutters something about hoisted by his own NPC…, whatever that means.
Ariarh laughs again, and even Dior is letting out little hisses of air that sound remarkably like laughter from his little beak while Brett sulks for some reason.
Smendor is tossing chair legs, table legs, blanks, and a host of other items outside as he finishes his work on the cottage fire. The items that he can keep such as cook pots, or tools he puts in one stack while all the stuff that is worthless goes into a second stack.
Drake watches you for a long while, even as Gan comes over to stand by him, his lean face still streaked with damp; streaks of wet soot mark his features. Though at this time he will not aid Smendor, only watch, puzzled.
"What do you suspect that he is doing?"Drake asks.
"The dwarven-kind... he seems to be despoiling the old man's house... searching through the rubbage and scraps... There is no honor in hoarding wealth, nor right of oath that places him as chief holder of such goods. The property is not his to despoil..."
Drake watches, his eyes flinty as he pulls Dasha to her feet.
"Mayhap... but he maybe earned the right when his companions killed the one who challenged him."
"Faugh! To a samurai money is nothing; a tool for merchants and other parasites without skill or honor to use it to lord over us their presumed powers. But if you are correct, Drake-san, then a man may win possession simply by murder and claiming wealth through violence. In which case, should I wish it, I could kill him, and claim the spoils, though I would not do so. Or even worse, wait until two men battle then pick the bones of the dead like crows or other vermin hungry for scraps or trinkets. Ahh... the futility of such lusts... Did not the poets say "Life is but a dream, within a dream"? Indeed, yes... There is no need to hoard such things. For me, there is honor in my sword, and enough for great deeds besides. Since birth we were taught the three principles of our caste: duty, discipline, death. What more does a man need then that?"
Drake says nothing, and comforts Dashs for a moment. She seems visibily sickened by the presence of the corpse of the maggot-eaten man. Then, seeing Gan is also damaged by battle, she moves toward him.
"You are wounded... as am I... it will never really heal for me, but I may do something for you though..."she says, reaching her hand tentatively toward Gan and touching on his arm.
Drake sees this and starts in surprise, but as her hand lays trembling on Gan's flesh a shiver moves over him, and near the base of his hand waves move outward, as if your gaze is bent from the rays of heat. Yet, Gan shudders, and what injuries he has withstood seem to subside.
The touch to Gan...
He and Drake stare at her in surprise and some awe.
Gan bows low before her.
"Domo Arigato Dasha-sama!"he says, holding his bow low before her while Drake says nothing but continues to stare.
"Don't thank me... it really wasn't me anyway... you can thank Ioana, instead”she says the last, with some disgust at this mysterious Ioana person, though you don’t readily recognize the name. ”Stupid whore! Yes, thank her, not me… because it's all her doing... I hate her, mostly; stupid, rotten, awful… no... no, that’s not very fair… sometimes she helps me..."she mutters, looking very ashamed and embarrassed, her Ustalavian accent seeming thicker and more pronounced as she rambles to the others and almost seems to be debating internally with herself.
Drake and Gan, you also find it curious that despite the fact that she seems to possess at least some healing powers, she has done nothing to relieve the slices in her own flesh, but she says nothing about it at this time.
"Gan, would you please get some gear together and start making some sort of litter for the body there,"Drake says after a moment, indicating the carrion. "The sorcerer said not to touch it, and I'd just assume not lay a hand on the scum..."he says looking at the maggot-ridden face.
"But the body may have clues of note, or things to study... We'll take it back with us to Oleg's. Then we'll find out what we need to know... who this bastard is, and what he does, and why!"Drake adds with a growl.
"Hai, Drake-sama!"Gan says with a quick bow, then rushes off to gather things for a litter as Drake moves to comfort Dasha, though somewhat awkwardly, as if hesitant to touch her after what he witnessed.
When Puck wakes to find himself alone, he uses prestidigitation to wash himself, and absently style his hair as he thinks on the symbols carved into the latest victim of the beast's foul designs.
After a few moments, he shifts use of his spell to begin weaving the designs in ether in the very air about him, and moves between them as he studies their form and intent.
Untrained Decipher Scripts
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Edit:
When Puck wakes to find himself alone, he uses prestidigitation to wash himself, and absently style his hair as he thinks on the symbols carved into the latest victim of the beast's foul designs.
After a few moments, he shifts use of his spell to begin weaving the designs in ether in the very air about him, and moves between them as he studies their form and intent.
Untrained Decipher Scripts
** spoiler omitted **
Edit:
Puck's efforts to roll will be very difficult. He will need many successes, but he can only make 1 success a day. This is to reflect taking day after day cracking a very complicated code of ancient lineage and power. However, it should be intersting to note that when he causes that symbols to be woven in the air, the air thickens like a heavy cloud of smoke around him.
Puck hears the sound of hissing, like a predatory snake ready to strike. He looks around him desperately, seeking for the possible rattlesnake, etc. but finds nothing. Only the sound of the horrible hissing and muted whispering cackling... like hideous laughter... So surreal he knows it is impossible, yet somehow he believes it, on some level though his logical mind tells him not to. The experience reminds him almost of the dancing in the glen not so long ago... only this occasion is far darker, and more foul then what he had encountered there.
Naturally, though... he can continue without penalty. The above "flavor" texting was to suggest he was dabbling in dark forces that he does not understand... and they are quite possibly horrible and evil beyond the comprehension of all living existence and humanity through all time!
Orr... it could be kind of munane bad feelings after a long nap and little to eat. Probably the later of the two... Yeah, probably...
Basically. In this case "Taking 20" will take you roughly 4 hours a day uninterupted. If you have 4 hours without being interupted, you can study for "taking 20". You will need to have 10 successes. But you can do more then 1 success a day, if you have time. If you have 16 hours to pour over your books... you can probably get it done in two and a half days. But generally 1 success a day is all you can do, unless you have all day to kick back and study.
If you plan on study the sigils for more then 4 hours a day, though, let me know...
You currently have completed 1 success, and have only 9 more to go...
Also, you are still gaining Social XP by playing Puck, so keep that up, if you are reserected that will be applied to your character.
Smendor just keep working on the house. He really does not bother talking to the others. He does not see any point of standing around doing nothing. He sees the others as lazy old women looking for a reason to let a person work without lending a hand.
While he is work he will take the time to inspect the fundamental structure of the cottage to determine if the cottage can be used for anything. He knows this small valley would make a nice place for just about anything. It has a good water supply, some timber, and natural protection from the elements. The question is would it be more effective to simply pull the cottage down and build new or does the cottage have value?
Towards the evening, and the coloring of the sky with sunset, Puck wanders outside, smells the fresh air and searches about for his lady. He knows that she meditates at this time, and that she is quite fond of bathing before, and has a keen desire to catch at peek at her. When he does not find her within, he begins searching for their companions to ask what might have become of her.
Perhaps she has stayed at Bokken's to deliver the poor creature to the earth? he thinks, then shakes his head. He has the impression that if that were true, someone in camp must know.
Smendor just keep working on the house. He really does not bother talking to the others. He does not see any point of standing around doing nothing. He sees the others as lazy old women looking for a reason to let a person work without lending a hand.
While he is work he will take the time to inspect the fundamental structure of the cottage to determine if the cottage can be used for anything. He knows this small valley would make a nice place for just about anything. It has a good water supply, some timber, and natural protection from the elements. The question is would it be more effective to simply pull the cottage down and build new or does the cottage have value?
1d20+5
The basic timbers are solid and well structured. You suspect if the plaster was ripped out and redone, and some hard work done on re-working the roof then the building may be saved somewhat. It would take time, possibly a few weeks of solid work, but it could be finished, sooner if you had help.
It would be a lot faster to fix it then rebuild it as you'd need to gather long beams, incluindg the roof and frame work, not to mention the bricks for the chimney, etcetera.
Gan and Drake are working also, but they are getting a litter ready and heading back to the horse where Hermia's mount was, then they are bringing it back to load the body up on the litter Gan is making.
Seeing as you are ignoring them, they will be ignore you, too. Though not due to any malice, but simply because they have their own stuff to deal with.
Dasha alone seems to be doing nothing, moving down by the water and skipping stones, and acting very upset; though with what, you're not sure.
It depends... en route to Oleg's you may be bumping into Ariarh and/or Brett, it depends on what they decide to do.
If they do not come out, you will reach Oleg's in roughly four hours...
Towards the evening, and the coloring of the sky with sunset, Puck wanders outside, smells the fresh air and searches about for his lady. He knows that she meditates at this time, and that she is quite fond of bathing before, and has a keen desire to catch at peek at her. When he does not find her within, he begins searching for their companions to ask what might have become of her.
Perhaps she has stayed at Bokken's to deliver the poor creature to the earth? he thinks, then shakes his head. He has the impression that if that were true, someone in camp must know.
Puck already suspects there is something wrong the minute he equates the reading to be akin to a darker, more evil version of a vision or troubled waking dream. Which he does... But there is no PHYSICAL negative reaction, instead, there is only the problem of the mental stress.
He will know more about Hermia depending on when she gets back, or information reaches him... That will be dependent on the other players and how long it takes them to get back to the outpost.
Semndor does walk over the the pond after a while to clean off his face and what not, and while he is there he will ask Dasha about his horse.
"I assume my horse is dead, but I thought I should ask before forgetting about him."
Semndor does walk over the the pond after a while to clean off his face and what not, and while he is there he will ask Dasha about his horse.
"I assume my horse is dead, but I thought I should ask before forgetting about him."
She turns to Smendor.
"Your horse? I don't know who's horse it is... or was... I killed it to stop that demon-creature from taking me away. Why?"she asks flatly.
I was looking to keep it, feed it, and use it would be the reason I asked, why else would I want to know if the horse was alive. I would have done the same to save myself if I where in your place. I was just wanted to make sure is all. I will get back to work than.
I was looking to keep it, feed it, and use it would be the reason I asked, why else would I want to know if the horse was alive. I would have done the same to save myself if I where in your place. I was just wanted to make sure is all. I will get back to work than.
Dasha moves overs to Smendor and takes his arm, speaking to him quickly and quietly, looking around as if she may be overheard, and doesn't want to be.
"It's not my fault... I didn't want to kill your horse... he was nice... but Ioana... she made me do it... it was her fault... I didn't want to, but she said if the horse lived he would ride off and kill me... If I killed him, then the maggoty man would have to walk, and you may catch him... and you did... because Ioana is always right... but I don't care... she's bossy and mean, and I hate her,"she adds the last to herself.
"I'm sorry though... I didn't want to kill your horse... but it's not my fault..." she adds the last with another ker-plunk across the water as she throws another stone in the pond.
You want to work on the cottage for a while? I find work will keep your mind from wondering around so much.
Ariarh considers the options a moment or two.
"Although, I think searching the masked man's room is something we should do, I think we can hold off for a little while, at least until the others arrive back at the trading post. All I know about this man is that he practices some dark magic and who knows what traps he has set up in that room to waylay intruders, that's if he has put such things in place. I don't know and walking in there unprepared and without caution or backup seems rather foolhardy."
Ariarh takes a breath and continues,
"Our companions have been gone awhile and it begs to be asked what is keeping them. Perhaps, if you are amiable Brett, we can ride together toward Bokken's hut. Maybe we'll find our companions on route back to Oleg's and if not we can continue east until we reach them." Ariarh pauses as thinking something over.
"Ah, Brett, just before I woke I had a dream. I am not one fluent in interpretation but it was vivid enough to rouse me from heavy sleep. Perhaps I can tell you about it as we ride east? Mayhap you will be able to shed a perspective or interpretation I have not considered."
"And Brett, I have had naught to eat all day but an apple you so graciously brought for me before our ride south this morning. If it isn't too much trouble, could I go and ask Svetlana to put together a little food for us to nibble on as we ride? I don't want to fall off my saddle from starvation. While I'm doing that, could you find Puck Sparrow and advise him of where we are headed? I'm not sure if he is hale enough to travel with us but we should give him the option all the same." Ariarh gives Brett a shy smile. She is unsure how he will take her requests or if she has overstepped and offended him. Ariarh waits quietly.
Ariarh considers the options a moment or two.
"Although, I think searching the masked man's room is something we should do, I think we can hold off for a little while, at least until the others arrive back at the trading post. All I know about this man is that he practices some dark magic and who knows what traps he has set up in that room to waylay intruders, that's if he has put such things in place. I don't know and walking in there unprepared and without caution or backup seems rather foolhardy."
Ariarh takes a breath and continues,
"Our companions have been gone awhile and it begs to be asked what is keeping them. Perhaps, if you are amiable Brett, we can ride together toward Bokken's hut. Maybe we'll find our companions on route back to Oleg's and if not we can continue east until we reach them." Ariarh pauses as thinking something over.
"Ah, Brett, just before I woke I had a dream. I am not one fluent in interpretation but it was vivid enough to rouse me from heavy sleep. Perhaps I can tell you about it as we ride east? Mayhap you will be able to shed a perspective or interpretation I have not considered."
"And Brett, I have had naught to eat all day but an apple you so graciously brought for me before our ride south this morning. If it isn't too much trouble, could I go and ask Svetlana to put together a little food for us to nibble on as we ride? I don't want to fall off my saddle from starvation. While I'm doing that, could you find Puck Sparrow and advise him of where we are headed? I'm not sure if he is hale enough to travel with us but we should give him the option all the same." Ariarh gives Brett a shy smile. She is unsure how he will take her requests or if she has overstepped and offended him. Ariarh waits quietly.
...
"Well, I suppose her room can wait, then... Tell you what, you saddle your horse and Stybba, I'll rustle you up a snack and see what the good Puck is doing, if he wants to come, or not,"Brett says amicably.
As Ariarh goes about getting her gear together, and Brett's (re: the horses), Brett moves to Svetlana, informs her and Oleg to be careful to avoid the room held by the man, and has a guard from N'Var stationed at the door for caution.
As Ariarh leads the horses out Brett has gathered large flagon of mead, a big loaf of bread, half of a good cheese, and long stick with several roasted apples skewered on it, one of which he is munching right of the stick. Sticking his head in the room they had occupied, he sees the Brownie staring at a ghostly image of signs and sigils floating in front of his staring eyes.
"Whoa there, Puck Sparrow... we're off to see how your lass and friends are doing... want to come about?"he asks as he takes another bite out of the apple.
Puck looks up from his revery after a few moments of communion with the sigils, and recognizes Brett. "Yes, of course. My lady is far better suited for tedium than me. And the more heads inclined towards this is like to be a tremendous help!"
Puck follows Brett out to where Ariarh is readying the horses. "Apologies, my lady, for wearing out our mutual companion so. If you do not find it repugnant, I could sit before you on the saddle, as I do with my lady, and allow our good Dior more rest?"
"Master Sparrow, I am happy to share my saddle with you. Dior can sit in my lap and rest his wings and body for the next few hours." Ariarh gives the brownie a gentle smile.
Ariarh turns to Brett,
"I see Svetlana has provided us with a veritable feast on our journey to Bokken's. My stomach thanks you and her." Ariarh gives Brett a graceful half-bow in her saddle.
Don't worry about the game at all. You take your time, family comes first. I will pray for your wife, and I hope things are getting better now. If it is any comfort, you've been NPC'd, and have been doing well in the battle. Take all the time you need to do what you go to do, and know the door is open for you when you're ready to come back.
"Master Sparrow, I am happy to share my saddle with you. Dior can sit in my lap and rest his wings and body for the next few hours." Ariarh gives the brownie a gentle smile.
Ariarh turns to Brett,
"I see Svetlana has provided us with a veritable feast on our journey to Bokken's. My stomach thanks you and her." Ariarh gives Brett a graceful half-bow in her saddle.
"What... oh, sharing... why, er... of course!"he says, offering her the stick with the apples, and handing over the skin of mead.
"The trick is to eat some bread first; dries out the mouth, then you bite the cheese and taste it better... then after the cheese, while you enjoy the flavor but before you do anything else, you eat the apple. Now, the juicy apple is contrasted with the sharp cheese, and you finally drink a draught from the mead and the cool honey wine wipes out the whole taste... leaving nothing but warming joy,"Brett says, speaking with a frank earnestness about the propper procedure to get maxium taste efficency from your meal, as if he were a wizened schoolmaster offering a lecture on the necessities of careful bargaining with a devil for your soul.
But Brett is not joking but being completely serious in his style. If you follow his advice you notice a subtle layer of flavors... Filling bread, sharp cheese, sweet apple then mellow honey wine...
Hmmm... bread, cheese, apples, wine... ohhhhh yeah
"What... oh, sharing... why, er... of course!"he says, offering her the stick with the apples, and handing over the skin of mead.
"The trick is to eat some bread first; dries out the mouth, then you bite the cheese and taste it better... then after the cheese, while you enjoy the flavor but before you do anything else, you eat the apple. Now, the juicy apple is contrasted with the sharp cheese, and you finally drink a draught from the mead and the cool honey wine wipes out the whole taste... leaving nothing but warming joy,"Brett says, speaking with a frank earnestness about the propper procedure to get maxium taste efficency from your meal, as if he were a wizened schoolmaster offering a lecture on the necessities of careful bargaining with a devil for your soul.
But Brett is not joking but being completely serious in his style. If you follow his advice you notice a subtle layer of flavors... Filling bread, sharp cheese, sweet apple then mellow honey wine...
Hmmm... bread, cheese, apples, wine... ohhhhh yeah
Ariarh believes Brett is being earnest in his advice re the order of food, so she starts nibbling on the dry bread first before they head out of the gate of the trading post. Dior's belly is full from the bacon he scoffed earlier from Svetlana and he has tucked his head under his wing and is sleeping in Ariarh's lap.
As Brett, Ariarh and friends push their horse farther to the east, they notice after about an hour of riding or so, that there is an inky black cloud stretching far away. Brett checks his mount, and brings Stybba to a halt and jerks out his spyglass, staring far ahead.
”Damnation! There’s a hell o’ lot of smoke, no mistake. I’d wonder if something be burning… what am I saying, of course something be burning. Hmm… if my bearings ain’t off it be coming from round about where the ol’ fellow Bokken be!”he says slamming the spyglass shut, and urging Ariarh to follow his pony's strutting gallop.
The two of them move quickly and in about half an hour of hard riding they see a figure riding slowly toward them on the plains. Brett checks his mount again, and again jerks out his spyglass and stares.
”Holy hell! It be Alaric, he’s all covered with blood and gore… and it looks like he got’s a body o’er his saddle… but I can’t see more than that… Hyah!”Brett kicks his pony forward and in moments Ariarh and Brett have reached Alaric and see that in his arms is Hermia.
Alaric looks horrible. His face is drawn and tense. When the others ride up to him, he merely shakes his head back and forth helplessly. Alaric is typically the sort who would have cleaned the blood from his own gear, but the very fact that he is too distracted to do that indicates he is clearly overwrought at what happened.
Ariarh freezes for a moment. She stares at Alaric from his pained, heartbroken expression to the unmoving young woman in his arms. Her thoughts pan a second to Saarah's death and back to the present moment.
With a definite catch in her voice, Ariarh asks tentatively,
"Alaric, what has happened? Why is our lady cleric so still in your arms?" Ariarh is hoping the girl is at best unconscious and/or wounded but Ariarh's heart beats harder and faster, praying Hermia is not dead.
"My lady," Puck breathes, upon seeing Hermia still and unmoving in Alaric's arms. Though she tended to avoid the bulk of the group, Puck knew that Hermia had some manner of affection for her handsome prince, and many times went out of her way to speak to him in private.
He's our kind she had said.
"My lady, you are with your prince. Why aren't you smiling?" Puck inquires.
Though the others seemed to have their place, Puck had seen. That though she assisted with setting camp, she did not feel a part of it, preferring to sleep alone beneath a tree with none but a blanket, feeling more in common with the stars above than those within reach. Her greatest happiness seemed to come when he would rest upon her knee while she prayed...
"My lady, please answer," Puck begins pleading.
Meanwhile...
As Smendor continues his work, and Gan cinches up the last of the litter. At this time he has moved the body of the villain onto it. He has tied up the body to the litter, careful not to touch it if possible. The sword has been taken from the cottage, and is held gingerly by Gan, but between him and the metal he is using a piece of discarded curtain so as not to touch the weapon with his flesh. Placing the blade on the chest of the man, he looks around, then kneels on his haunches and leans back and begins to meditate.
Even as he does this and Smendor continues to work while Dasha continues to skip stones, the thundering sound of hooves approaches. Gan and Smendor move quickly to ready themselves for battle, and Dasha runs quickly behind them, staring forward with nervousness on her face.
However, moving through the trees is none other then N’Var and his men.
They look both worried and relieved to find you. N’Var himself alights from his horse and throws the reins to one of his men. Striding forward quickly he takes in the scene, looks down emotionlessly on the body of the dead villain.
”He’s dead, then?”he asks flatly.
”Aye, him among others, sama,”Gan says bowing to the captain.
”Who, and where are they? And why is being treated as such?”
”Your pardon N’Var-sama, but Alaric-san has said to bind his corpse and not touch it and bring him to the west so that it can be properly gone over for evidence of who he may serve and align his blade to. It may be there are answers to be found with a more… deft means of examination. But he further suggests that the body and gear may be cursed, and has had no time to examine the flesh for such curses, as he was taking the body of a slain priestess to one of your foreign gods… apologies, N’Var-sama,”he adds with a bow.
”But to answer; Alaric-san took the body of the young priestess back to Oleg’s for proper last rites. He asked that we did not defile the body, and we have not done so.”
Drake has suddenly stepped out of the woods, startling N’Var.
”It’s all true, Atain, as he says,”Drake adds grimly.
Atain N’Var looks from Gan to Drake, then over to Smendor and Dasha. They still are pulling the horses that Gan, Smendor and Drake had been riding.
”Mount up, then, all of you. We ride now,”N’Var says crisply, even as Drake is hitching the litter to one of the horses. Gan and Drake have mounted, and Dasha is pulled behind Drake, holding him. They look toward Smendor.
”You coming, Smendor,”Drake asks as they prepare to move out, waiting for the Dwarf to answer.
Is there a horse I can use?
Is there a horse I can use?
"Assuredly, Smendor-san... If you would be seated behind me, you could ride the faster,"he adds, calling Smendor so that he can move to the horse and mount up.
Behind him the cottage is not burning. There is still smoke and ash in the air, but nothing is on fire, and there is a small collection of useful items and others.
N'Var has dispatched two outriders to move forward quickly to alert the base of his comming and make sure there is no trouble on the road between him and Oleg's (they - the outriders - will pass Brett and company at about 5:00 PM), and that his party will move forward.
The horses are forced to check their speed with with the body of the slain villian being dragged behind them. Though not heavy, it makes things moves slightly and akward to move. They will reach Oleg's at their present speed a little after 7:00 PM and then begin the investigation of the body and the examination of the villian's quarters.
Drake is riding close to N'var. The two are saying little, but you sense there is a connection between them, as if they are understanding a lot of what happened and guesses between each other that is suggested, not spoken. There bond seems almost familial at this point, though you know they are not brothers.
Your party advances.
Soon Smendor and Gan will reach Alaric and the others in the plains. The outriders have long passed them, and they all move together is a somewhat mournful company.
Before leaving Smendor will take just a few moments to close the door and make any other simply preparations. After this is done he will ride out with Gan.
Puck is stiff in his seat against the Lady Ariarh's pommel. He stares straight ahead. No bright songs come to mind, nor does he believe that his Lady would have preferred them sung in these moments. He resolves to play for her in the evening, when the situation has resolved itself.
Before leaving Smendor will take just a few moments to close the door and make any other simply preparations. After this is done he will ride out with Gan.
Good enough... unless there is any specific conversation between Ariarh, Brett, Alaric, and Puck with Hermia.
Otherwise, by 7:00 PM the entire party is now back at Oleg's.
I will wait until tomorrow to see if you guys have any other in-game Social RP to toss up. Tomorrow you will get some much needed clues and details on the mysterious man in black...
Until that time, enjoy social RP, and I look forward to seeing what happens.
The silence is truly deafening, Ariarh thinks.
The enormity of the situation has hit home and no words could be found to express the sickening feeling that the death of one of her own companions evoked (and the childhood memories that threatened to overcome). Hermia and she had a tentative friendship at best but that did not mean she would wish harm to befall the cleric or such a gruesome death be her fate.
"Alaric? Alaric!" Ariarh did not mean to raise her voice to her friend but he seemed immobilised by his grief and she wanted to get through to him somehow (to anyone of the party now present). Plus, grief and fear were lending a fractious edge to her voice. Ariarh lowered her voice appropriately. "I mean no disrespect to the Lady Hermia, especially at this juncture and her devastating sacrifice. Yet, what of the other companions? Are they ..." Ariarh could barely get the words to leave her mouth, she hardly wanted to think of more death and destruction at the hands of the evil masked man (she presumed he was at the centre of this but did not know for a fact -- she wished someone would say something.) "Where are the others who rode before you to Bokken's?" Ariarh's gaze faltered -- she could barely look at the still body of Hermia held by Alaric but she was drawn to it -- Hermia's death had to be acknowledged. "Do the others need help?" Ariarh swallowed nervously, though her mouth felt dry and slack. I hope she did not suffer, Ariarh prays silently. It was a fervent wish, as Ariarh understood prolonged suffering and believed none should suffer so mercilessly.
Puck scrubs at the dryness of his eyes with his forearm and sleeve. "I do not believe that my Lady would agree that Alaric were capable of leaving companions in need behind," Puck sighs and tugs on his scarf for comfort. "I gather that this means that the immediate... er, the threat to our ladies has been eliminated."
Puck attempts to sound cool, but his normally clear voice is breaking.
Smendor cannot be seen with the main party for long. He dresses down to nothing more than a light shirt and starts working around the camp on whatever he can find.
Alaric looks as if he has just seen you even though you have been talking to him for a minute. He seems as if in a daze. He is clutching Hermia's body tightly. Ry...what?...oh the masked man is dead...the others are bringing his body...I...couldn't wait. I did not want her body and his to be in the same place...She needs to be near trees that do not have the stench of smoke and death upon them... If someone mentions resurrection or raising her he will reply It may be possible but I am not sure how likely it will be. We are far from anyone whom has the ability to cast such magic for I do not believe we will be able to reach a cleric whom can raise her before her body decays too greatly. It is possible but not very likely. As for a more powerful resurrection...I do not know other than the cost is very high. His eyes well up with fresh tears again, then he says I would pay any amount of coin to get her back...but I do not know what is the best course to take... At this the tears begin to flow more freely. I am very sorry that I was unable to protect her Master Puck. I have failed you and her...and the only thing that I can say is that I am sorry and she was avenged.
Upon seeing Alaric break down, Puck grips the pommel hard, leans forward and keens.
"We... should," he begins in a devastated voice when he is able, "take her to... the others. It is beautiful there, and she will be at peace."