It is the 4th of Neth, the day that legend states Ekat Kassen and his men set out to find Asar's camp. The day that in more recent history town heroes have set out to gather the light of the everflame. A tradition seeped in mystery for each of you as you have all been too young to participate in the trials events. This day is proving different. Early in the morning each of you are summoned by someone in town told to come 2 hours before high noon. Sa'Sori and Cotton you were each summoned by Moltus Vargidan though the others summon is unbeknownst to you. Moria, Arnama has sent for you to meet her in the Silver's inn. Berenkor your usual training session was called off and you were told to enjoy your morning and to meet with Jamil Mioloian at 10.
The morning is free to each of you to do as you wish though it is hard to contain the excitement of what such a summons could mean on this of all days.
Sa'sori entered Moltus' study with a defiant expression on her face... her lovely violet eyes glaring in the intensity of smouldering fires but her thoughts in turmoil,
The petite and very lovely half-elven young woman was a sight to behold... long blond hair in two braids that trailed behind her~ their tips bouncing at her mid calves with each of her graceful steps. But the eyes of all were usually drawn to her enticing reddish hued arcane tattoos upon her face, shoulders arms and long shapely dancer's legs that inspired more than one youth to ask how far down her tattoos actually went? Her tattoos were red due to her natural affinity to elemental fire... her chosen element. The tattoos were a mark of her Arcane Bloodline Heritage as a tattooed sorceress... all but one.. the one upon the curve of her more than ample left breast.. the one that marked her a CALISTRAN Temple prostitute!
That one tattoo got the most extreme reactions from all around her! Most women were scandalously rude to her and most men thought it gave them free permission to paw her for their own selfish sexual fantasies! The truth was she had little choice when the Temple offered to save her.. a runaway child-slave, barely a decade old, sold into slavery by her step-father out of spite for her mother's unfaithful failing of her fidelity with some handsome and dashing elven nobleman.
Sa'sori wore a red and gold Silken Ceremonial that only barely covered her for modesty with a plunging neckline all the way to her navel leaving her arms and legs free but indeed offering some actual armor protection. It was not to show off her more than enticing body but to keep her tattoos open and exposed for they were the source of her power.. she had little choice. Too much clothing and when she invoked her magic.. the tattoos with arcane power flowing through them would sear and burn covering clothing. She never wore undergarments of any kind... a habit she got into in her service to the Temple of Calitsra~ she had been so young... and was never really raised to be a proper respectible young lady.
She bore her one prized possession that hung across her back~ her sheathed elven curve blade. The one piece of her elven heritage she had managed to keep. It had been the only thing her father had left to her and the horrid molesting slave owners she had been sold to... before she ran away had hung it over their market street mantel.. like some conquering trophy! Sa'sori guessed she should have been grateful they had not sold it.. and she stole it away with her when she eventually was able to flee. But at the time of her tender young age of 12 she could barely lift the weapon.. let alone fight with it.. but her magic the simple cantrips enabled her to escape! Now the curve blade hung across her back the bandoleer strap.. unfortunately between her breasts showing her figure even more poignantly! But she had learned to wield it.. another 'gift' of the Temple of Calistra.
Her garment was cinched at her shapely waist with a Haramaki and armored belt.. from which hung her belt spell component purse. She worse laced sandals that tied at her shapely thighs. At her wrists were a set of bracers.. more jewelry than anything... but they concealed her two-spring loaded wrist sheaths that held her two daggers.. the third was always at the small of her back out of sight mostly. She worse no holy symbol to the goddess of vengeance and lust but she always bore her daggers... her only sign of devotion. Three always three.. and never more. The stings of Calistra...
Mentally, Sa'sori felt, perhaps, she should have felt more grateful to the temple of Calistra..? They had fed her, clothed her, protected her {after a fashion}, even trained her! They had fulfilled their bargain.. she had lived and she could have died so easily a pretty, little runaway half-breed elven girl on the streets. But she could not help but feel... she had paid dearly for their considerations... and her reward.. was a bitter one indeed! They had stolen her innocence...
No, she had sacrificed her innocence! She could have refused.. but where would she be now had she done so? Dead or worse likely!
The events that brought her here none of it had been in her control.. and that had been the state of her life ever since. Even now that she was no longer a Temple whore.. she had paid the church with her body for two whole years and this.. THIS was supposed to be her payment! Her coveted Apprenticeship with a family of Sorcerers to learn how to master her growing magic. Instead .. she'd become the old master Moltus' "quickwife" anytime the old goat wanted her! She was sure a few times he had compulsed her with magic to comply... the filthy cur!! But she bided her time.. she would have her revenge.. oh yes.. the sweetest possible... she would survive and she would seize her freedom... when the time was right!
And then.. there would be a reckoning! Now she breathed deeply trying to be civil and relaxed.. her lovely figure heaving with determination.. and unconsciously making a rather fetching and petulant figure she cut as well...
She mentally groused,
But putting on her sweetest expression... even if forced, "You summoned me Master Moltus'? I was busy with my studies.. I hope this will not take long... "
Had Moira not been awakened by her mother early in the morning with a message, she might have slept through to the afternoon. The night previously she had been too excited to sleep. The Everflame Festival was the next day and she was finally old enough to participate. She bounced around the house saying "I hope they pick me" over and over. That is until her mother got annoyed and sent her away. So she bounced around the forest until night then starred at the stars until she finally calmed enough to go to bed.
When her mother passed on the message that Arnama wanted to see her she sprang from the bed like there was a snake in it. She dressed in a flash and ran for the door until a resounding whack on the anvil made her freeze. Without even needing to speak Moira's mother passed along everything she needed to say with a single look. And what did they say?
Chores.
That severely deflated her excitement. Cleaning the ash from the forge. Replacing the wares on the racks. Cleaning the tools and weapons. It was boring and monotonous work but her mother needed the help when she could get it. But thankfully her mother took pity on her and let her daughter leave early. So an hour before the ranger trainee was supposed to be there she was already at the door. Moira knew she couldn't possibly wait an hour so she did the only thing left available.
*Knock**Knock* Coooooooooottttyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Cotton comes slouching into Moltus' study a little later than Sa'sori -- but not much later. In the past, the little Gnome had caught the old man on the verge of doing ... something to her friend (she could guess what, but preferred not to think about it too much; it'd spoil her appetite for food forever) but he tended to back down if an unexpected audience came walking into the room and spoke in a loud, carrying -- though somewhat shrill -- voice about very mundane things. Such as emptying bedpans or the stains found on someone's sheets, or the loose hair on their pillow.
'Puts you off to have witnesses, does it?' she thought as she came to stand next to the lovely Half-Elen girl. 'Good.'
Unlike Sa'sori, Cotton's clothes are strictly utilitarian, even mannish. Dull grey hose and jacket over a dull grey shirt. Well-worn, supple boots. A very discerning watcher might spot the subtle bulge of a dagger up each of her sleeves. Cotton's whole attire speaks of her readiness to get up and go anytime she wants -- go anywhere at all.
In contrast, Cotton's hair is an intricate mass of dark braids today, twisted in a crown around her head. Her eyes are bright -- and today, they're heterochromatic, one blazing bright red at the old man, the other an equally fierce blue.
"I hope this isn't going to be long, mister," the Gnome chirps after kicking the door shut behind her -- and taking up position next to Sa'sori, rather like two gunslingers might stand side by side in Alkenstar.
A grin spreads across Cotton's narrow face.
"It's about bloody time!" she yells, her voice loud and shrill enough to make the windows rattle. She grabbs Sa'sori's hand and starts 'dragging' her along. "C'mon, Sassy! Time to get you into some proper footwear, they are going to pick us, and we are going on an !"
Without looking back at the Sorcerer who nominally raised and provided for her these past years, Cotton sets off for first Sa'sori's and then her own room, to pack up. (Basically, she's keeping an eye on Sa'sori so she won't be waylaid by Molthus or any of his deadbeat sons before they can get out of the building.)
Barely has Moira finished knocking at the door where she usually meets her Gnomish 'big sister', or it flies open and a small, darkish blur comes flying out and bowls her right over. Cotton's mismatched eyes blaze into hers, bright gold now but unmistakable.
"Hi!You-look-good-Ready-to-go?-Let's-go-let's-go-let's-go!-It's-funny-looki ng-down-at-you-like-this-haven't-done-that-since-you-started-growing-cheati ng-human-but-I-love-you-anyway-Let's-go-day's-a-wasting-I-can't-wait-to-go- can-you?-Oh-let's-!"
This last chirp is accompanied by Cotton finally getting off of Moira and trying to haul her to her feet before she goes dancing all around both the taller girls (on the assumption that Sa'sori did follow Cotton outside).
Sa'asori's entire expression changes to a warm sisterly fondness as she allows herself to be swept up in the gnomeish lass' unquinchable and irrepressible excitement.
Sa'sori pondered as the smile blossomed on her pert lips and spread accross her face seemingly fixed as long as her little Cotton 'cloud' zephyred about her,
Sa'sori's heart is touched at her little friend's commanionship, and protective watchfulness.. against any of the 'deadbeat' sons who seek to take liberties with the half-elven girl's person - it is more appreciated than her little friend knows!
Sa'sori collects hertravel cloak a deep scarlet hued and hooded grament. Closing her eyes briefly she conscentrats... and the strikingingly artistic and firey red hawk tattoo, on her back between her shoulder blades animates and ... her familiar is released.
The Hawk is a striking creature it redish hued feather turning lighter hue at his wingtips almost flame red and his white creast make the beautifyl hunting bird a startling companion.. and most appropriate for the fiery seansual and heart-stoppingly beautiful Sa'sori.
Sa'sori claspes her scarlet cloak at her shoulders pulling her cascading hair out fron under to drape fetching ly down her back. Then adjusting the hand of her Elven Curve Blade so the hilt is still in easy reach. She also pulls on some shortis ankle boots of a similar soft red hued leather that are more durable for travel and she is ready to go.
, flutters into the air to perch upon her shoulder serveying with his sharp golden eyes everything surrounding his mistress... the looks of keen intelligence in his eyes as he regards Cotton briefly.
Sa'sori crouches down to take the little energetic gnome in her arms giving her a firce sisterly hug of deep affection whispering,
She rleases her and stands striking a formidabble figure of beauty addressing both Cotton and Moira, "I'd forgotton about the festival... perhaps I study too much... But yes, now we can gain our own identity as the mature women we are and start making some important decisions about how WE will run OUR lives!"
Sa'sori stands proudly her pretty violet eyes determined and excited...
Moira only got about halfway through singing out her friend's, though sister was probably a better word, name when the door flung open and said sister collided with her. She must have been in a real hurry for the 3ft gnome to knock over the 6ft woman. What followed was a barrage of words that only years of practice could decipher.
"WAIT!" Moira yelled, still on the ground. She grabbed Cotton's face and smushed it together a little to settle the little ball of energy. "You were chosen too?" At her nod both girls let out a tremendous scream of excitement while rolling around the ground.
As Cotton tried, and failed, to haul the red-headed ranger to her feet she finally noticed the sensual Sa'sori standing in the doorway. Moira had to work to keep smiling, though it wasn't that hard considering what day it was. She knew the half-elf's story and was truly sorry about what she went through, and still does. More than once she wanted to speak out against the Vargidan's but they were a strange and powerful family. And even though they were friends she couldn't help but feel a tad jealous. She had amazingly long and flowing hair, a great figure that many a woman would kill for, and those tattoo's were absolutely beautiful. She had the eye of every man in town and almost all of them had tried to make a pass at her. Moira by comparison was rather plain. She was tall, strong, and lean. All great qualities, for a man. She had very little bust to speak of and that was almost always covered in leather armor. Her hair was short by necessity and usually rather frayed from all the time spent in the forest. The stories she had heard from Sa'sori almost made her glad of such qualities but when they walked together and every man looked at the alluring sorceress it made her feel just a little disappointed.
But not today. Nothing could sour her mood for long today.
"I'd forgotton about the festival... perhaps I study too much... But yes, now we can gain our own identity as the mature women we are and start making some important decisions about how WE will run OUR lives!"
At mature, both Moira and Cotton giggled a bit and nudged each other. "I couldn't agree more Miss Kalisreavil. We are indeed mature and independent women," she said doing her best impression of a noble woman. She then extends her elbow for Sa'sori. "Shall we be off m'lady to the Silver's Inn. I believe we have a prior engagement," she says in a snotty voice.
"You tallfolk can keep 'mature' for yourselves," Cotton says, grinning impishly. "I've got too much life to live to muck about with 'mature'. But I'll take 'independent' and run with it. Run right out of this town with it!"
For a moment, her grin falters as she looks at Moira, only for it to return as a crooked, apologetic smile. "Had to happen some day, didn't it?" she says. "Outgrown this town, I have, me. Big world out there."
The smile turns back into a grin. "But I promise you won't be disappointed by my goodbye."
Sa'sori had to remember that due to her slow aging as a half elf.. she had been more mature than Moria as she grew up being some 22 winters old while Moria was still two winters her younger...
Sa'sori giggled and accepted Moria's elbow affectionately and smiling warmly, "oh you.. there's no need to call me Miss.. Moria. We're practically sisters... 'Sori' will do! Kalisreavil is my blood father's name.. who likely does not even know I exist. No need for such formality with me!"
Her eeriely pretty - though unhuman violet eyes sparkled with delight as she touched Moria's soft reddish hair Sa'sori had always found so... fetching and alluring! Her smile turning somewhat... naughty.. Sa'sori pressed herself a little closer to the bold young human girl ranger grinning in a most lacivious... almost hungrily... fashion.
"Yes, Let's have a little pre-celebration with a few beers at the Silver's Inn, my treat, to mark the start of OUR adventuring career... our Titan Trio! No task is beyond us.. and no man we can't conquer!"
As usual.. Sa'sori is the consumate hedonist, infamous in town for her partying ways of drunken table dancing... among other lewd deeds. Drawing the two other young women too her Sa'sori in the middle leads them to the Silver's Inn...laughing and being playful with Moria's hair... even more ammused when she blushes at her flirtatous attentions...
"Cotyyyyyyy. Don't remind me," Moira whines. "Let's just have fun today."
Her eeriely pretty - though unhuman violet eyes sparkled with delight as she touched Moria's soft reddish hair Sa'sori had always found so... fetching and alluring! Her smile turning somewhat... naughty.. Sa'sori pressed herself a little closer to the bold young human girl ranger grinning in a most lacivious... almost hungrily... fashion.
Bad idea. Bad idea. I should have known better then to tease Sa'sori. She is far better at it. Moira swats ineffectively at Sa'sori's hand as she plays with her hair. And though she appears calm and smiling the blush on her face is barely a shade lighter her hair. By the time they make it to Silver's though she is more or less under control.
"No beer," Cotton says, swatting Sa'sori's knee. "We're going off into the world, we should do it with our minds unfogged. Also: phooey on Titans! They're too tall. We'll be the Three Azatas! Those are pretty."
Upon receiving the message in the morning, Berenkor had nodded solemnly; but did not deviate from his usual routine. He checked in on Farkas first; ensuring the Wolf had plenty of food; before going through his martial drills, twirling and whirling his Kukri with lightning fast strikes. The youth lacked muscle, but his form was good.
Saddling his mount, Berenkor rode quietly through the town to meet Jamil. He wondered why his mentor had called for him and cancelled their dawn training- maybe it had something to do with the fuss around town?
Before the three girls get to the inn, Cotton beckons Moira close and whispers to her: "The dirty old goat at the mansion told us we couldn't bring bags or packs or nuthin'. Would you carry ours until we're into the woods? I'm not sleeping on the ground for that old goat."
@Arnama Moira's only response is to nearly fly over the table and hug Arnama so hard it felt like a bear. Well, a sick bear maybe. You can assume that is a yes. She then runs to Asina and spins her about as she tells her the good news. Almost before the girl is safely back on the ground Moira is gone, off to tell Cotton and Sa'sori the good news. When the tornado of excitement is gone the good people of the tavern go back to their meals, more than used to her antics.
@ Cotton "I was told the same. But I can do you one better. Get what you need as fast as you can and as quietly as you can. I'll hide it in the forest for when we leave. Adventurers always got to be prepared," she says with a mischievous grin.
"Got it here," Cotton says, tossing Moira a small, light bundle of backpack and bedroll.
@ Moltus - Sa'sori's only response and reaction is to stand a little striaghter.. her eyes smouldering with lovely defiance, her fists clutched at her hips.
Sa'sori was angry... but also afraid. The last time she was so defiant.. he'd used her so roughly! She was sure he'd used a compulsion upon her... she could still remember her pitful gasps and cries of passion that her body enjoyed with her will under his control as he ravished her harshly and thouroughly... it sickened her to her very core!!!
Fortunately, Cotten's sudden arrival breaks the tense moment and the silent battle of wills...
@ Cotton - Sa'sori smirks, "...personally, I don't want anything from the Vargidan house that I did not arrive with myself! I'd burn anything I collected from his household. I intend to buy my own gear... new and clean with my own fortunes - be damned him and all his sniveling bastards!"
Muscles sore from his training with Jamil, Berenkor made his way through the town just before noon, seeking the elders of the town as well as the other youngsters the town of Kassen had no doubt selected for the trials. Dismounting and keeping a tight hold on Farkas (for appearance's sake; the Wolf was incredibly well-tamed), he approached the town centre on foot, idly scratching his larger companion's ears. The wolf had been carefully barded in studded leather and Berenkor himself bore only his weaponry and armor, foregoing the well-crafted backpack that he tended to take everywhere.
Almost there boy... remember to be quiet in the ceremony. No howling now. We have to impress the people of Kassen.
Since there is still two hours before the meeting in the square Moira will take the two packs and her own out into the forest and hide them so they can pick them up later.
Moria give me a stealth and a survival check please.
*Fingers Crossed*
Decent. Also its Moira. Say it like you are trying to be Scottish.
Arriving in the town square, you find it empty save the 4 of you. The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. “Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”
"Right here!" Cotton pipes up, and she marches to the front of the crowd, tugging on Sa'sori and Moira so they'll follow her. "Just you leave everything to us, yer honourness!"
I volunteer as well, Mayor Uptal. Berenkor said simply, with a glance at the eager trio. He knew of Cotton, the town's orphan, but their paths had never crossed often enough to be considered anything more than distant acquaintances.
Moira lets little Cotton pull her along as she is starring stupidly at the wagon of supplies. Oh crap. How did I forget the ones chosen are given supplies for the quest to the tomb? I hope no one saw me leave or else I am going to look like an idiot.
Sa'sori steps forward, "I have no fear of wolves or snakes.. I'll crush them under my boots like any other vermin. Anything else.. I'll burn with the zeal and power of the magic that is my blood heritage to wield! I'll retrieve your flame so you can sleep sound... for this year."
To punctuate her point, as it were, in one swift fluid motion she draws her elven curve blade and plant it with a resounding ring into the plaza flagstones drawing sparks and her hawk at her shoulder cries out a hunting shriek... and eerily feathers and Sa'sori's arcane tattoos begins to glow slightly a reddish hue and both their eyes glow a lovely and hauntingly violet shade...
Cotton can understands the effects are a cantrip.. Sa'sori precast arriving in the square. The effect is plain spooky to superstitious and insular simple townfolk but a poignant display of the power the Sorceress wields!
The mayor nods and adresses you four. "Who among you shall have the honor of carrying the lantern? Once one of you volunteers (or is elected) he will give you the lantern telling you to use it to bring back the fire to Kassen. He then moves to the cart giving each of you a backpack.
The mayor once again speaks to the townsfolk. “I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen’s footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, brave heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire.” With that, the mayor points to the south, the direction of Kassen’s tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces.
"Before I go, I have something to say," Cotton sings, her high-pitched voice cutting through the gloomy atmosphere like a knife. "It's better to burn up than to fade away! Be my end so sudden, be it ever so gore-y, at least my life won't end in the muck, but in a blaze of glory!"
To all the cold -- and by now, probably outraged and incredulous -- faces, Cotton grins unashamedly and makes an insulting gestures. To the few who are trying to hide smiles, she winks.
"Crazy Gnome, leaving your village," she chirps. "Peace out, y'all! I'm off to pay my respects at the honoured Hero Kassen's tomb."
Laughing, Cotton runs into the forest, along the path. Once out of sight of the village, she sits on a handy tree-stump and waits for the others to catch up, giggling to herself.
After Sa'sori's eye catching display, Moira is more or less back to her old self. But now all the townspeople's focus is on them. She had always been an outgoing person but never had she been the focus of the whole town. Well, not quite the whole focus. Most were looking at Cotton or Sa'sori, mostly men in her case. Still she had been so excited to do this and now that it was here, she couldn't help but be nervous. Reflexively she grabbed the lower part of her bow.
But when Cotton steps up and sings her crazy song and makes her exit, she can't help but giggle. She always did know how to make her laugh. With some of her confidence returned she steps up and accepts the lantern. "I shall take the lantern and return it with the Everflame blazing within. A sign to all of the resilience of town and its people," she says rather proud of herself. She then takes a backpack with a sigh and heads off after Cotton.
@ Cotton "Well that was...interesting. Ever so gore-y?"
Sa'sori, merely smirks staring at the departing townsfolk with a air of contempt...
She has no words for them. She smiles at Cotton's display.. and as she expected Moira accepted the lantern.
With no further need for the town she turns and follows her companion sisters her stride bold, confident and sultry... unaware of the appreciative looks her swaying shapely hips effect on the menfolk that linger around... just for just that show of femininity in motion...
---
Rejoined with the other young heroes, Sa'sori collects a pack... practicality not lost on her.
"Well... let's do this!"
There is no fear or uncertainty in her violet eyes.
After Sa'sori's eye catching display, Moira is more or less back to her old self. But now all the townspeople's focus is on them. She had always been an outgoing person but never had she been the focus of the whole town. Well, not quite the whole focus. Most were looking at Cotton or Sa'sori, mostly men in her case. Still she had been so excited to do this and now that it was here, she couldn't help but be nervous. Reflexively she grabbed the lower part of her bow.
But when Cotton steps up and sings her crazy song and makes her exit, she can't help but giggle. She always did know how to make her laugh. With some of her confidence returned she steps up and accepts the lantern. "I shall take the lantern and return it with the Everflame blazing within. A sign to all of the resilience of town and its people," she says rather proud of herself. She then takes a backpack with a sigh and heads off after Cotton.
I pledge to protect the lantern-bearer and the Everflame she carries. Berenkor solemnly promised as he mounted Farkas and spurred the Wolf on to easily catch the trio.
Cotton, Moira, Sa'Sori. Good day to you all. Have you met Farkas? He will help to protect us on the journey...
The Halfling seemed a little unsure he was even welcome.
"Good doggy!" Cotton says, scratching Farkas under his jaw and grinning both at the animal and its rider. "Is he strong? Can he carry this pack for me?" If Berenkor answers in the affirmative, the Gnome hands up the pack she just got at town square.
"Well, I wasn't going to waste my A-level material on those dreary mourners, was I?" she says to Moira, still grinning. "So you're the lantern-bearer, yeah? Good choice, good choice. So, where did you hide our stuff?"
She winks at Sa'sori. "Yeah, let's go! The Hero Kassen must be starting to wonder what's keeping us."
Sa'sori smiles at the halfling warrior... she is not entirely familiar with Beren' but the few times she had seen him.. he was not one of the town males leering at her.. but had always been respectful... even a little shy. It denoted to her a honest and noble heart.
"Welcome Beren' I heard you at the ceremony... I'm sure you will do fine as a warrior companion/protector... and Farkus too! Let's be off.. this tomb is not getting any cleaner the longer we wait."
The party wanders into the edge of the deep woods just south of Kassen. Each of you were given a backpack. They obviously contain a tent and bedroll of appropriate size for you, and each is heavy as if they contained additional materials inside. It is here you realize other than being pointed to exit the southern gate you were given no instruction on where the tomb of Kassen is.
Sa'sori.. out of curiosity opens her pack so see what else was loaded into her pack that makes it so full?
Then she looks about trying to get her bearings...
"I think the tombs are this way.. let's go."
Berenkor searched his backpack, expecting a map at the least.
Sa'sori inside your backpack are 5 days worth of rations, a medium tent and winter blanket, a full waterskin, a labeled potion of cure light wounds, a torch, a tindertwig, and a torn corner of a map.
Berenkor inside your backpack are 5 days worth of rations, a small tent and winter blanket, a full waterskin, a box containing tinder, a small bottle of local brandy, and a torn corner of a map.
Cotton inside your backpack are 5 days worth of rations, a small tent and winter blanket, a full waterskin, a torch, a tindertwig, a grappling hook, and a torn corner of a map.
Moria inside your backpack are 5 days worth of rations, a medium tent and winter blanket, a full waterskin, a torch, a tindertwig, 50' of hempen rope, and a torn corner of a map.
"Oh, puh-lease!" Cotton says, rolling her eyes. "'Learn that alone, you are unable to get by; only together can you survive and succeed'. Boring! C'mon, everyone hand up their corner and see where we're going."
@ Berenkor "Oh he's adorable," Moira says making baby talk to the enormous wolf and petting his head. "Welcome aboard Berenkor. I think I have seen you before. Your the apprentice of that stuffy Jimil right? Well at least stuffier than most. Sir Dramott is pretty grumpy.
@ Cotton [b]"Our stuff is nearby. I know the general direction of the tomb," she says rummaging through the pack. "Oh, a map, or part of one. You guys have the others? I say we consolidate the two packs with what we need and we can drop off what we don't need at Arnama's since she lives outside the town. Rations: No, Tent: Maybe, blanket:Got one, Water: Yes, Torch: No, Tinderwig: No, Rope: Yes. Well I'm mostly good."
Sa'sori ponders the items Moira wants to leave behind.
"Actually Moira dear... I'd suggest we take ALL the gear they gave us... if you don't want to carry it.. I'll put it in my pack. Each of those items can have uses.. depending upon how 'creative' one is."
Without hesitation Sa'sori surrenders her section of the map...
The map is easy enough to follow showing the crypt a good 40 miles from town. Easily more than a days journey and further than any of you (even you Moria) have travelled in these woods.
Aye. Truly, my mentor does not really like people. But he is kind enough once he warms to someone friendly with his pets.
Hmm... Seems we're well supplied. Though I wish Jamil hadn't told me to not pack Farkas' saddlebags... Heres my section of map. Seems they want to foster co-operation between us.
"Why not tie the straps of some of these backpacks together and sling them over his back?" Cotton suggests. "A big boy like him probably won't mind. WIll you, you big fluffy-wuffy?"
Cotton scratches Farkas under his chin again.
@ Sa'sori "Yes but I already have most of this and I wouldn't want to tax Farkas. The tents alone are already going to be difficult. I have always been taught to travel light."
11 with help. 19 if I can take 10 and get help. Should be enough to find an easy route there.
After checking the map, you're estimating to arrive just before dark tomorrow night if you left now. Your hidden packs are in the woods by the western gate of Kassen. Doubling back for your packs should only take ten minutes each way if you still wish to return for them.
Sa'sori dutifully picks up the rations, torch and tindertwig discarded by Moira... and puts them in her pack.
She follows along to where Cotten secured their packs and she collects her gear as well...
Her pack included - bedroll (5lbs) '1sp', 2x bags of powder-chalk 'blue' (1lbs) '2cp', 4x candles '4cp', 4x pieces of chalk '1cp', flint & steel '1gp', a grappling hook (4lbs) '1gp', 2x iron spikes (2lbs) '10cp', 3x dagger sheaths, and 50'ft of hemp rope (10lbs) '1gp'.
All of it gear she bought with her own coin!
Sa'sori shifts gear from her recovered pack... which belongs to Vargidan... and true to her word; with her flint and steel she burns that old pack... her hate clear in her eyes!
Sa'sori then lifts the hem of her silken ceremonial robes, heedless of Berenkor's presence, to reveal a long a sensuously shapely dancer's muscled tattooed legs, to which she straps her dagger sheaths high on her lovely thighs. She pops her daggers from her spring loaded sheath and stows them in her thigh sheaths. Into both spingloaded sheaths she loads a potion vial to each.
To which it is obvious; from the halfling warrior's height and angle.. Sa'sori wears no under garments...!
Gesturing to the springloaded sheath she informs everyone, "..I received a cure potion in my pack.. its in my right wrist sheath.. and my alchemist fire is in the left sheath. Don't mix them up.. the alchemist fire is in a red crystal flask.. so you should not mix them up."
Hefting her pack Sa'sori draws her Elven curve blade and follows behind Moira in the marching order.
Moira watches Sa'sori with a mixture of envy and annoyance. Sometimes she wondered if the sorceress was aware of what she was doing? And she wonders why men look at her the way they do? After the first shift of clothing Moira unravels her blanket and holds it up before Sa'sori, to provide a screen and little bit of modesty.
Cotton will skip to the head of the column, singing a merry little tune as she goes.
"Away we go!
And ain't it grand?
Our feet take us
through wood and land.
Away we go!
There's lots to see!
So eyes ahead and away
from Sassy's knee
or whatever else
you thought to see!"
Giggling, the Gnome turns to the rest of you.
"Come on, come on! You can do the mating dance when we camp tonight, or whatever else you're thinking of doing. We have a dead Hero to honour and ask for a light!"
And off she goes...
Sa'sori, looks over her shoulder to note Moria and hearing Cotton's catchy rhyme.. the half-elven woman blushes ever so slightly, as her ears color fetchingly, "OH! So Sorry.. ... I-I was just ..."
Then she frowns frustrated turning her gaze ruefully at Cotton, "HEY! Its not like I threw my leg over his shoulder and told him - I was simply shifting my gear about to be more accessible for adventuring... !"
She proudly tugs at the hem of her silken ceremonial ... unnecessarily...
"And your singing off tune Cotton!"
And... Sa'sori sings...
A lilting elven song of emotion and sadness...
It is a shock to her fellow semi-childhood friends.. they have never heard Sa'sori sing. Clearly she has talents... unknown to them ...
Her beautiful voice carries as they travel along...