|
Nicea watches the others walk off as she finishes explaining the situation to the guards at the glassworks. She helps them build a makeshift barricade of rubble between the basement and the tunnel and leaves once they've set up guards. "We're at the Rusty Dragon if you need us, lads and lasses. But try to handle it yourself first." She grins at the grumbles of protest that arise as she drifts out the door.
Outside, the sea breeze is rising as the sun lowers. A furrow of unaccustomed thought wrinkles Nicea's brow and she paces around the outside of the glassworks for a bit, trying to figure out where the tunnel would lead.
Once she decides on a direction, she tries to figure where the end of the tunnel might be, following it to where she thinks it emerges from the ground, without leaving sight of the town or its protection. If she sees anything, she marks the spot where she stopped with a pile of rocks and fetches a guard to keep an eye on the outlet and raise the alarm should anything enter or leave.
The town darkens as she makes a last pass along the boardwalk and the docks, casually scanning the ships' names as she meanders, keeping an eye out for the Sea Sage... just in case.
Back at the inn, she grabs a quick meal.
If she found where the cave emerges, she returns to the guard there after eating, to help keep watch on the opening.
"You smell lovely." she tries to reassure Samara, then realises it sounds personal and not wanting to offend the dancer carries on.
"Privacy is good, although you don't get much of it on the road. Aliver is a nice name, probably reflects his personality." she seems to make up for the quietness of the elf with her own soft prattling.
"Of course, he's your friend... I hope I am too." there is a nervous defensiveness to her voice.
"I have lived upon caravans all my life, travelling from one end of Varisia to the other, as the seasons dictate." Zara continues as the walk down the boulevards, the saltly air and cool breeze raking across exposed skin. "It was not an easy life. There was certain sacrifices and quite lonely especially once I was chosen. Although I would not forsake my calling for the world, it set me apart. That and..." she looks down for a second.
|
His healing done Davben smiles towards Damieka "I feel much better now, magic healing is much faster than the standard healing... I would have had sore ribs for quite some time without it."
He puts his hand on the half-elf's shoulder "Are you ready to go? We should head out and get this talk with Tsuto over with. It might be better if you do the talking, at times people don't understand me, and take things I say in a bad way. I will make sure he doesn't try to deceive us."
The healing itself did not take much time and that was just fine for Damieka. She never was one to stay in a religious establishments for long to avoid negative reactions. Even when she had been hurt before she would rather go to time of healing slowly than come into a church but this was different. She would do it for Davben and for the others.
"I'm ready and glad you decided to get it fully healed. That could have taken weeks to heal." Damieka takes his arm and walks with him, "Most people have a different attitude towards life other than that of balance. It is very much run on emotion and that is why others take your beliefs badly. I'm sure you'll be able to catch any devious tricks Tsuto tries to put to us."
|
"Mm. Yes. You are my friend," decides Samara, nodding her head once. "I do not know why you insist that I am... decent. But it is your opinion."
She rubs her arm lightly, nodding a few times as she listens to Zara's story. "That and what? If it is not something you wish to discuss that is a thing I understand. There are many things I wish not to discuss..."
The Varisians' heart soars at the acceptance, 'It was a silly question, usually left unsaid. However, poor Samara she must have had many people upset with her; for such a fantastic woman to have such low self-esteen in this regards.' Her thoughts drift onto the elf's question, a request for her to talk more about her past.
Zara winces knowing that it's an uncomfortable subject; but with the enigmatic elf who knows? "Well I started developing before the other girls. Then the boys started to treat me different and in turn the caravan-girls started to tease me." she kicks at her heels softly, not really wanting to share but feeling compelled to with her new friend. Beneath the reluctance is a harsh reality and a pain that she carries around with her.
"It was then I started to learn about Sivanah, becoming a dancer for her services." recollecting she slowly smiles. A nearby sailor gives the young cleric a leer with a suggestive motion, thinking her smile is for him.
Pointedly ignoring the man; Zara adds. "Sivanah, is a magnificent God. All about illusions and the veils between thoughts and reality. A forgiving Goddess, she cares for us all." Zara finds that their patrol has taken them almost around the whole town.
It takes a few moments to process Samara's words, unused to the relative ages of the other races. 'She must either like me to tell me something so personal, or she's mock.... no, she's a nice person.'
Leaning softly upon the rails of the esplanade, with a cautious lilt of her head. "I'm sorry if I am making you uncomfortable... it's just you are so easy to talk to. A very good listener.... shall we head back? Or just enjoy the air."
She watches a bird wing it's way against the breeze, being blown virtually horizontal. White hair whips in the sea-breeze, Zara pulls it away from her own henna lined face revealing her full lips. "Thank you." the words barely come out a whisper.
"I have long needed this, someone to confide in." with a sigh she adds; "Someone who would listen." her eyes glisten.
|
|
Davben accepts the lovely ranger taking his arm and walks along with her towards the area Tsuto's kept. "Yes magical healing is rather convenient, it would not do if I were out of commission when we go to thistletop."
The monk nods when Damieka talks of others having a different attitude and not understanding balance "Yes, most people do not understand, actually possibly everyone emotions do interfere with balance."
"So this is where he is kept." Davben says as he comes to the area Tsuto is being held. "Are you ready Dam?"
Davben may not be a ladies' man like Silva but he was quite the gentleman and a sweet person to be around. Damieka tended to watch for the sweet people and she was pleased that she'd found one.
"Balance is a difficult thing to achieve especially because of emotions and that people do not understand. It should be much easier to establish a sense of balance within one's self. Sometimes I wonder though."
Being with Davben was so calming that Damieka almost missed that they were at the building where Tsuto was being kept, "I am ready. This should be interesting. If not and he does not talk then we will just have to go by what we have but I hope he at least lets some information drop."
"Good..." the tattooed dancer replies softly, just enjoying the peace & serenity between them. Or at least she doesn't feel the silence uncomfortable.
Zara plans to spend most of the evening patrolling, making sure everything is fine. Generally she keeps quiet, enjoying the quiet company of Samara whilst making sure that she's seen and making friends with the towns-folk.
A furrow of unaccustomed thought wrinkles Nicea's brow and she paces around the outside of the glassworks for a bit, trying to figure out where the tunnel would lead.
[dice=Survival]1d20+5
Once she decides on a direction, she tries to figure where the end of the tunnel might be, following it to where she thinks it emerges from the ground, without leaving sight of the town or its protection. If she sees anything, she marks the spot where she stopped with a pile of rocks and fetches a guard to keep an eye on the outlet and raise the alarm should anything enter or leave.
[dice=Perception]1d20+6
Tsuto is being held shackled in a cell at the Sandpoint Garrison. The town has not taken kindly to him once they discovered that he was behind the raid on Sandpoint. A large bruise runs the length of his forehead, across his eye and down his cheek and is very swollen. Vegetable matter sticks to his cloths and skin as if the town guards had set him up on public display while you were in the Catacombs.
What happened while you were gone?
** spoiler omitted **
|
|
Davben shakes his head seeing the state Tsuto's in "It appears you have not been treated terribly well. I don't understand why they would do that... It doesn't help the balance any to harass a defenseless individual. If they were going to destroy you they should have just get it over with, and if not this mistreatment doesn't help anything."
He sighs, and leans up against the wall "Damieka would like to have a talk with you, it's important to the balance of the area, and you don't seem to have anything better to do please answer properly."
Damieka tilts her head sadly as she sees the state that Tsuto is in then looks towards the guard to see what he seemed to be thinking. Did the guards believe this was the way to treat people? Did they figure this would make everything right? This was wrong. The simple matter was that it would make nothing any better, even people's feelings.
She notices what Davben says and a timid smile comes upon her lips as she knows that Tsuto probably won't understand, or care, about balance of anything but Damieka knows what it means to the monk.
A swift twitch of her hand tells the guard to move closer for her to whisper to him.
Her eyes move to regard Tsuto quietly and she waits for some kind of growl, gesture or word that would make her know how she wanted to react directly towards him. Whether he knew it or not she was not about to take any form of bad treatment from him lightly.
Damieka pads across the cell, her feet making only a slight bit of sound as she watches the shackled man. She moves to one side of the cell to the other then figures she's waited long enough for the guard to be close to back down to the door.
The ranger moved calmly over to Tsuto and sat on her heals to look into the criminal's eyes. As she saw his face she closed her eyes for a moment while shaking her head slowly in pity. Her eyes opened then she pulled over a stool she had noticed sitting close by so she could sit down.
"Being a half-elf isn't very easy, is it?" Damieka says as she tucks some hair behind her little pointed ear so he could easily see that she was one as well.
A lopsided grin passes by the ranger's features as she chuckles lightly, "Not really, I suppose. It is hard for many people to realize the discomfort forced upon us only for what we are. No one cares that it is not our fault for how we are conceived." She shakes her head lightly again, "To them we are a travesty. That I know."
A brow rises and Damieka tries to figure out exactly what he had said before answering, "Sweet? Well thank you for that but I can be not so sweet if I like." It was easy to ignore the "ny-eef" comment as she had no clue what it was supposed to be, "If you wish to go all the way about the truth then I can do so as well. We are considered to be useless. Things which must be eliminate or horribly abused to keep us 'in our place'. We are considered to be less than the smallest of creatures and less than the most disgusting of beasts. Maimed, brutalized, tortured, laughed at ... we hold the scars of the unwanted and hold the abuse for indiscretions we were never part of."
Damieka sighs and looks back to Davben then turns her attention to Tsuto. She undoes the lower strappings of her leather armor and opens it to show the jagged scar torn through her belly button and much more which had cost her that ability to procreate as well as other scars from further abuse later on, "And they make sure we cannot make more of our own." She puts her armour back in order, "We are hated by most."
|
|
Davben understands that Damieka has had a hard time due to some racism some folks seem to have for half-elves, but that didn't apply so much for Tsuto, he was in this position, and assaulted by... well whoever it was that assaulted him due to his actions not his race. The monk doesn't agree with the mistreatment one way or the other, but maybe Damieka needs to shift her focus a bit off of how hard half elves have it and see if they can get some info out of Tsuto.
He leans in to speak quietly with Damieka
He adds somewhat as an afterthought "From what I understand most half elves can procreate without problems, but that reminds me. We should talk about it later, some clerics have very powerful restoration spells, they might be able to help."
Apart from the whispering the monk is apparently satisfied letting Damieka do the talking at least for the moment. Maybe he's just along for protection.
Damieka leans in to listen to Davben then turns her head to speak directly into his ear as a whisper as well.
She turns back to Tsuto and nods, "My suffering had been from many reasons but it is true that most was due to heritage. I understand that your father put you through a lot of trouble and I hope you realize that I do not agree with what he has done to you. That would probably have broken me as well."
When the guard returns with the water and cloth she dunks the cloth and starts gently washing off the mess that is on his face, "You also must know why we are here."
|
|
Davben furrows his brow a bit and shrugs his shoulders at whatever it is Damieka's whispering then says a bit more to her.
Davben leans against the wall watching as Damieka washes Tsuto's face, he wondered if the other monk did know why they were there judging by the lack of response, and wincing at the gentle dabs he may very well expect them to beat him as well.
Just smile and everything will work out just fine... I think.
Damieka sighs but does not answer Davben this time as she does not feel it necessary to discuss their difference of opinion regarding the situation and how to deal with getting information from the man.
"Tsuto, I know that this hatred for your father is well deserved but we need to know some information. We know what you and your love have set up for this town but I do not think you fully realize the impact. I mean, what would she be able to do?" She shrugs and then continues washing the monk just as gently.
As the sorcerer settles into conversation with the innkeeper, his worries regarding the other woman dissipate, leaving only his relief that Ameiko was alright. When he had learned that she had gone missing, he had tried to prepare himself for the worst. He had been ready to make her half-elf brother paid for what he had done to Sandpoint, to her, and hell, even to Lonjiku. But seeing her alive and well was all he needed to dispel those notions. Well... perhaps it was for the best that I wasn't the one to interrogate Tsuto. After some idle chitchat, Silva brings up the idea of having Ameiko help pawn off some the party's findings - they could use the extra gold.
It is only when the stool clatters to the floor that Shayliss captures his attention. Seeing the expression on her face, a look of dismay comes over Silva's own. There's no getting out of this, is there?
"So wiping out all for what some have done is your way of destroying the people who hurt the two of you?" She shrugs then wipes away the spittle from his face, "Is there anything we should look out for at Thistletop? Secret entrances? Passwords? Traps?"
She sits back a moment while rinsing out her rag and watches his face as she does so.
Walking back into the Rusty Dragon, the soft sway of hips may even be called a sashay. So tired from the days exertions she hardly even tempers her natural flamboyance.
Moving to a table near to bar she looks to her comapnion Samara, "Do you want to sit or retire for the night?" she asks softly, her voice barely carrying over the natural hubbub of the common room. "We could take drinks in the snug if you wish?"
Brushing the seat with a weary hand, to remove errant splinters and dust. 'I wouldn't want to ruin my remaining scarf, or get a splinter. Getting someone to remove that could be embarrasing...'
Zara plonks herself upon the stool, languidly she melts into the seat. "A cup of watered wine and whatever Samara is having? Apple juice?" she asks from the passing halfling Bethana.
Turning back to her companion, rubbing at the edge of her own leather collar, Zara says softly. "I need a bath, do you want the water after I? I wouldn't wish to waste it." she invites the elf. "Then, I suppose I should inform Aldern of our decision... unless I do it before." she sighs.
|
|
Satisfied that Damieka has accepted his advice and has moved her focus off of the difficulty of being a half-elf, Davben doesn't interrupt her with whispers again.
He pays close attention to awaiting Tsuto's response to the woman's direct line of questioning perhaps even if he refuses to answer something in his manner would give something away.
Well, I did ask for a godsend... Grimacing, the sorcerer dismissively turns away from Ven Vinder. As far as he was concerned, he had already apologized to the man. He could be angry forever if he really wanted to. It's Shayliss I didn't apologize to... Silva realizes sullenly, as he makes his way back to the bar. Something about the poor woman's reaction had definitely caught him off-guard. Did I misjudge her? he wonders, recalling the lengths she had gone through to lure him to the cellar. He and his companions had just become the talk of the town the day before that - surely she was just after a piece of the action... right?
With a sigh of resignation, Silva joins Zara and Samara at the bar, thinking nothing of it.
"Hey you two..." he says halfheartedly, his voice devoid of its usual liveliness. Addressing Bethana, "Some apple juice actually sounds good right about now. Though, would you mind spiking it with something sour?"
|
|
"Mm, apple juice is fine," decides Samara, nodding slowly. She has to stay alert for the coming days, and cannot indulge in the harder liquor that she would normally prefer, just nodding slowly to the question about the bath water.
As Silva approaches, her eyes turn towards him and she purses her lips lightly. Silva, being a native to the town, makes her a bit more uncomfortable than strangers like Zara. "Hello," she says softly. After all, strangers don't know that she is not the most trusted individual in town.