Over the course of two trips up the stairs, Smitty fetches four buckets of hot water and fills Henri's tub with a steaming warm bath.
She notices he surreptitiously looks around the room after whisking away her used bucket without comment.
Before he leaves he makes sure her woodstove is lit, and says, "Let me know when you're done and I'll dump it for ya."
He latches the door firmly behind him as he heads downstairs.
Henri stands and follows him up the first time, keeping a close eye on him. Seems pretty strong at least, she thinks, noting the amount of water he is hauling up the stairs. "Thanks for getting that, friend," she notes, starting to take off her clothes, "Strong and polite. I bet you're quite the ladies' man." She bats her eyes at him and grins. "See ya later."
Henri finishes stripping off her clothes and sets herself down into the bath, sighing contentedly. With her headache rapidly fading and her sore joints being soothed, she felt like it would be a good day, trying not to think about interacting with the military later.
Henri notices Smitty's ears turn red and he wears a goofy, pleased grin after her comments, but he does not reply.
"Thanks for the offer. I'll check in with the military and see if I'll need the room again."
Finishing his food, Xizoh rises from the table. "I've got some things I should ready before we leave. I'll try and meet here in time to travel." He waves to Cel and Alaina as he heads up the stairs to his room.
As Alaina answers his questions, Cel gobbles up food just barely slow enough to not choke. "Vuts liffing steel?" he says through a mouthful of food. "Is it breafing? Doess it thalk to you?"
He vaguely hears Henri leaving, "Thure, thure we can go togefer," he says but eyes still transfixed on his new source of curiosity while swallowing several pieces of bacon at once. Before Alaina can answer anything, "Thaffs so cool!"
He turns to the innkeeper, "Thanfs for breafast!" She notices he still has several pieces of straw stuck in his hair from his accomodations.
As Xizoh gets up from breakfast, Cel just now notices that the man looks very different from last night. He swallws deep, and says quietly to himself "You're different! How did you do that?" Alaina hears him ask himself these questions and can be relatively certain that his focus is off of her for the moment. Cel watches the man go upstairs and staring in that direction he on abscent mindedly finishes breakfast.
Stopping her chewing and swallowing what was in her mouth, she answered Cel, "The way it was explained to me was like this. It repairs itself, heals you might say, over time. That why despite years of battles it still looks brand new. There's also the added bonus that if a metal weapon hits it just right, it'll break the weapon."
As Henri left, Alaina couldn't help but wink back. At the kid's exclamation, she responded, "It most certainly is."
After a few moments of relaxation, Henri got to work, scrubbing herself clean and getting the dirt out from her hair and body. 15 minutes later, she was clean, or as clean as she felt she could be. Pulling herself from the tub, she quickly dries and looks through her cases for articles of clothing to wear. Jacket, obviously, with the warm wool poncho to go over it and keep her warm. She tried to find a good shirt, but most of them were irrevocably stained with blood, dirt, or other indiscernible fluids. She picked out the one with the least stains. At least they didn't stink.
She got dressed and packed her backpack full of gear, setting it next to her cold weather outfit on the bed. Finally, she started on the finishing touches, filling her belt with different styles of shell for her shotgun, before putting the rest in a pouch to her side. She confidently holsters the dragon pistol at her side, and strings the blunderbuss over her back. She'd load them later, before she left. Finally, she gingerly places her hat on her head, and strings her goggles around the brim, clamping it in place. Swinging the cold weather outfit and backpack over her shoulder, she exits and locks the room behind her, before confidently striding back down the stairs about 45 minutes from when she first ascended.
Finishing her meal, Alaina made sure her gear was situated and waited for Henri to come back down.
Turning to Cel, "So, why did she call you 'Windy Kid?'
"I...uh...I can do things" Cel says, then hesitates and checks to see if anyone is watching...
A soft sound like a puff of smoke is heard by Alaina, and a cup across the room gets knocked off the table, but there's no visual to say that an object hit the cup.
"Like that," he says, nervously.
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Alaina instinctively tightened the grip on her shield. As with many Abbhen citizenry, she had a slight aversion to magic, but she wasn't against it. After all, one of her best matches was against a Licensed Battle-Mage demonstrating his proficiency with protective magic. "That's definitely different."
Cel does not perceive anyone watching him - the subsequent actions happen.
"Nice to meet you, Harlan. My enthusiasm should be blamed entirely on a man with too much time on his hands and a penchant for forced memorization." Dulae smiles at him. "Since that's everything about me wrapped up, how about you? What brings you here?"
Dulae spots Lieutenant Buhari walking quickly from the office toward the stairs after shutting the door gently behind him.
”I see…” Harlan says, his eyes searching her intensely as though he is trying to place something or perhaps confirm a suspicion. After a beat, he says, ”I’m working a dig about a day’s ride north and I heard about the trouble here.”
The office doors suddenly open and Harlan looks up expectantly. Private Zahan emerges and walks over to the waiting civilians.
Zahan glances down at his notes and says, ”Uhh, Ivanov and Azikiwe,” pointing to the pair of card players in the corner, ”Chatterji and Krishnan” he says pointing to another waiting pair quietly conversing, “Yang,” he points to the scowling fighter, ”Balis,” he points to the older fellow, ”and Harlan.” He points to the young mage.
He gestures for them to rise. ”Please follow me.” He shepherds them into the office in an orderly fashion, casting a sympathetic glance at Dulae.
Harlan is the last to pass Dulae. ”It was a pleasure.” He smiles, then says softly enough that it would be difficult for anyone else to overhear, ”I hope we get the chance to talk again soon, sergeant.”
The office doors close behind Harlan and Dulae is left waiting with the two teenagers.
After about five minutes the office doors open again and the older fellow emerges, looking disappointed and cross. He dons his heavy coat and walks out of the waiting room toward the stairs.
Closing the door behind him, Xizoh gently dumped his satchel on the bed. As he sorted through his supplies he wondered about what this rescue would entail. Repacking his healer's pack, he began to pull out what he would need from his pack.
The small bead and stone were stowed away into a pocket inside his jacket, and gently he threw a chain mail shirt on over his tunic, before covering it with his over shirt. Lastly, he wrapped the large chain around the metal loop attached to his trousers. Making sure he could remove his winter clothes without any embarrassing flubs, he fastened his cloak, threw on his pack, and left the room.
As the others begin to return from their rooms (or had never left to begin with), Henri dons her goggles, and swirls her warm poncho over herself, heat getting trapped inside of it as she walks towards the door and prepares to leave. Pausing for a moment, she glances back with a smile - "Come on if you're coming on."
Dulae rolls her eyes. Nice job being inconspicuous, Dulae. Last time I ever go by what Kieran tells me.
She tries to get comfortable in her seat, singing softly under her breath to while the time away.
After about 15 minutes the group of six exits the office, donning their winter gear and striding purposefully toward the stairs. Harlan gives her a smile and a shrug as he passes through the waiting room. Dulae thinks she spots a folded piece of paper in his hand.
Zahan follows them out, shutting the door behind him and resuming his watch outside it. He catches Dulae's eye and gives her a sympathetic shrug.
The two teens talk quietly a few chairs over, looking eager and determined.
Henri has a sense that it's reasonable to expect to find some dried tobacco and rolling paper at the general store for a town of this size. She also knows it will come at a price, as an imported good.
The cold feels biting after the warmth of the inn and the group can see their breath crisply in the morning air. The weather is clear and sunny, making the snow on the mountains shine brilliantly. There is no sign of ominous mist on Mount Oranis.
Anyone who chooses to walk with Henri observes that the general store is closed, which seems unusual for this time of morning. A glimpse in the window reveals a few people in military uniforms near the counter inside, but it is difficult to tell what they are doing through the thick, blurry glass. The door is locked and just above the doorknob is a hastily written note that says, 'Please come back later'.
The snow in front of the military headquarters has been trodden to bare, frozen earth in some places and hardened sheet of ice in others. In the bright morning sunshine the group can tell the stone exterior is designed for a practical defense, with few windows, a defensible walkway on the roof for patrols, and many sturdy metal torch holders bolted to the walls to light up the outside in the night.
As they near the building, a pair of soldiers in green uniforms jog out from the stables to receive an incoming rider in a silver uniform with an orange sash. She rides in fast on a large horse and quickly slows down to a trot in front of the headquarters entrance. She dismounts before the horse has stopped; almost before the receiving soldiers have a hold on the reins. Without losing much speed, she jogs up the steps and through the headquarters doors.
It seems likely from your observations that green uniforms are worn by enlisted soldiers and silver uniforms are worn by officers.
Henri knows that green uniforms are worn by privates and silver uniforms are worn by junior officers. (Senior officers tend to wear armor.)
Henri recognizes the orange sash as the color of the central body of the Altiendel army, which she thinks should be stationed near Kinghaven at this time of year; a few days' ride away, at least.
Shortly after the doors close behind the rider, they open again as a group of six women and men dressed like civilians exit the military headquarters. They walk down the stairs and head down the road in the direction of the mountains at a quick clip. They are dressed warmly and appear to be armed and equipped for a day’s hike. One young-looking man doesn't carry any weapons. He is carefully carrying a folded piece of paper cautiously in front of him and his expression is focused and eager.
As Henri and company walk up the three wide stone steps to the entrance, they see a handwritten sign that reads 'Search and rescue - 200 gp per day to those able and willing to assist' posted on the heavy wooden double doors.
Inside, the mood is tense and somewhat frantic. A set of steps lead down to a hall from the center of a broad landing just beyond the doors. They can see soldiers moving briskly across the hall below, carrying papers, weapons, and boxes to either side. A short flight of stairs on either side of the landing lead up a level to another hall.
They can hear orders echoing from above and below. Not much is visible from the entrance, making it difficult to tell where the sounds are coming from.
There are several lamps on the walls providing a practical amount of light. The floors and walls look very clean and completely barren of decoration. The air feels much warmer than outside if still slightly cold, and there are no fires or stoves visible from the entrance.
A tall soldier in his mid twenties is standing near the door, looking like he has clearly been posted there to field visitors. He wears a silver uniform similar to the rider, with a white sash instead of orange.
The soldier in silver flashes the group a polite smile and says, ”Welcome, how can I help you?”
Henri recognizes the white sash as the southern branch of the army, based in Southtown. She can tell from his uniform rank (lieutenant) that his CR would be at least a 4 or so.
It’s difficult to judge by his uniform, but you get a good sense from his bearing that his CR is perhaps a 4 or 5.
This soldier looks pleasant enough.
Cel walks with Henri wrapping himself up tightly in his warm clothes. Henri makes a detour to the general store, but Cel doesn't need anything from there. Instead he is looking all over town at the various buildings and people he would see. It's a fortunate thing, because what is occurring in the general store would almost certainly result in the "dog with a bone" curiosity again.
Arriving at the military headquarters is a bit of an experience for Cel. He wouldn't have expected to see so many different people. His interest in the search only intensifies as he sees so many people pushing to get this task done. Cel's interest is briefly piqued by the young man who isn't carrying weapons, but it's not quite enough to take his attention away from finding out more about the missing soldiers. That is, by far, the much bigger curiosity.
Being in such an intense place is a little much for Cel, though. When the soldier speaks up, he doesn't answer yet and kind of hides behind Henri and Alaina.
Adjusting her cloak and securing Greenwall over her shoulder, the Wolf makes ready to leave when Henri comes down. Walking beside her after all these years felt odd, but good at the same time.
If it wasn't for the fact that they were soldiers inside the store, Alaina would have been tempted to bust down the door to see what was going on. Not that the temptation wasn't there anyway, but it wasn't as intense. With the rest of the group, she headed to the military building.
Hmm, I wonder what's going on? Why is the officer in such a hurry? She thought seeing the activity.
Well this place is certainly busy. Is what runs through her mind as they enter. With a quick look at Henri, Alaina pats her shoulder then answered the guard, "Yes, I'm looking for someone that was here about five years ago and was told he spent most of his time here. Can you direct me to Records so I can make proper inquiries?"
Henri starts scratching at her scar as she approaches the headquarters. She was a bit nervous, and the lack of tobacco wasn't helping much. "Always with these military toughs, just telling everybody else to 'keep out!' while they're shopping," she mumbled under her breath. "Probably took all the tobacco, too." The elf glanced around at her companions. She supposed she would see how trustworthy they really were, soon. She was already regretting being back in Altiendel, but as she noticed the sign offering a tantalizing 200 gold pieces, she put those biases aside. Probably not everyone's all bad. Just those guys in the store. Need to keep an open mind, everyone's gotta drink.
Stepping inside, Henri could feel a wave of worry run through her stomach, causing so much doubt that it brings her to a physical grimace, if only for a moment. But she swallowed her fear when Alaina gave her a pat on the shoulder. The touch was comforting, even if she didn't know it. "Rest of us're looking to join up! Well, not with the military, the search and rescue." Taking the goggles off and placing them back around the brim of her hat, a smile begins to grow across her face. Aside to Alaina, she says "We'll wait for ya, for a bit at least. Lemme know if you find anything, or if you're coming with." Returning the shoulder clasp, she grins. "Good luck."
The soldier in silver frowns at Alaina's questions. "Hm, well, we don't usually allow access to personnel records, miss." He thinks for a moment. "Unless there are extenuating circumstances. Would you like to take it up with the captain?"
He nods to Henri and the rest and says, "Good, good. Welcome. I am Lieutenant Buhari." He pulls out paper and pencil from a uniform pocket.
"I need to ask you a few questions and then we'll let you know if we're in need of someone with your skills."
He clears his throat and reads from his notes. "This is a potentially dangerous search and rescue mission on Mount Oranis. Please list your qualifications and make a brief statement on why you would be an asset to one of our teams."
"Understandable. Sure send me to the Captain, he'll probably know what I'm looking for anyway," Alaina responded in a courteous tone. She could understand why such records would have restricted access, the Fighter's Guild had a similar policy regarding its Ring Fighters.
Xizoh shivered as the group left the inn, desperately missing the heat behind them. As they pass the general store he peers at it for moment, before dismissing it.
The rider draws his attention, an officer he assumes, as well as the group passing them. Messages from a higher command perhaps, or supplies for the missing? The inside certainly seems to suggest somehting, with all the hustle and bustle. Xizoh casually tightens his cloak, not wanting a swift change of appearance to bring trouble. He notices Henri and Alaina's interactions, and can't help but feel distant from the group. It's probably just the fact they're a tad more scrappy than you. Can't share bar stories when you don't have any.
Xizoh stays silent as the man talks the others, until it's his turn to prove his ability to help. "I can provide short and emergency medical attention to both the rescuers and the missing. I can keep us safe on the search, and can handle myself well enough in a fight." He looks uncomfortable for a a short period before adding quickly and quietly, "Some minor magic."
Shit. I am so not good at selling myself. Henri let out a sniff when it was her turn, fidgeting a little. "Well, I, uh..." She paused for a moment, thinking about her marketable skills - but all that was running through her head was another one of her mother's stupid lectures. Shaking her head, she finally responds coherently.
"Well, I'm a traveler, been all over Abbhen, so I know how to survive this weather. Plus I can handle myself in a fight." She gestures to her gun, "I've had this for years now, and I'd say I've mastered it. If there's actually something dangerous out there, I could bring you its head. If it has one." She lets out a weak smile; "Plus, you know, the missing people. Obviously."
Cel becomes wildly uncomfortable at the idea of being scrutinized and it shows in his nervousness in his skill set. He looks for confirmation from Henri, knowing her the best
and seeing her nod and grin a little bit Cel says, quietly "I...uh...well. You see, I..."
Then casts Basic Aerokinesis in the same manner he accidentally did at the innkeeper the night before causing the soldier's hair to ruffle and cheeks to blow open for just a second. Cel's face is still that of nervousness and sheepishness all at once, kind of like a puppy dog face that is scared.
Henri gives Cel a small thumbs up, smiling at him. "'s all right, rabbit," she whispered to him under her breath. After he performed the spell, she made an expression of some approval towards him.
“She,” Lieutenant Buhari corrects Alaina gently, ”should be able to tell you what help we can offer, if any, indeed.”
He jots down notes on the others’ responses.
”A healer? Good, good,” he says to Xizoh. ”I’ll have a couple more questions for you about that in a minute.”
His eyes dart to Henri’s gun, then to her elven features. ”Hmm, good.”
After Cel’s demonstration, Lieutenant’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ”Well now…” He write a few notes. ”Remarkable.”
He looks at the group with a pleased smile. ”Very good, then. You can all follow me. ”
He leads them up the right set of stairs and down the hall around to the right. As they walk, Lieutenant Buhari signals a passing soldier in a junior officer's uniform who nods and heads to cover the door.
The hall leads into an open space which had probably once had a long table for meetings, but is now organized with chairs to look something like a waiting room. In contrast to the thrum of energy and motion downstairs, three civilians are quietly sitting.
One waiting civilian is a half-elf in her mid-20s, heavily armed with a shield, sword, unstrung bow, and morningstar. She is wearing clothes that show the stains and wear of recent heavy travel, a shining breastplate with Altien's holy symbol engraved prominently, and a helmet. The other two are human teenagers, a boy and girl, conversing quietly. They are carrying light equipment and small water skeins, but not any visible weapons.
The room is well lit and comfortably heated with two large woodstoves against the building's outer wall.
“Please take a seat, I’ll be right with you,” Lieutenant Buhari says to those volunteering, gesturing to the chairs that line the waiting room.
After inviting the volunteers to wait, the lieutenant leads Alaina toward a grand double door on the left of the waiting room. It is guarded by a friendly looking solider in a green uniform who watches them with interest.
“What’s the status, Zahan?” Lieutenant Buhari asks him.
Zahan says, “The last group just left, sir."
”Good timing.” Buhari remarks. ”This visitor needs to see the captain." He gestured to Alaina. "See that she does, private.”
The lieutenant gives Alaina a brisk nod, instructs her, "Wait here, please," and leaves her standing next to the guard. Zahan gives her a friendly smile.
The lieutenant walks back over to the waiting volunteers, turns his attention to Xizoh, and pulls out his notes. ”Can you tell me what kind of equipment and medicines you have at hand? Ah, and I am meant to inform you that you won’t get reimbursed in addition to your daily pay.”
"Oh," he looks back through his notes and casts a glance at all three. "And of course, I will need all of your names. Surnames are fine."
Dulae sees Lieutenant Buhari lead a new group of civilians into the waiting room. The group includes a very nervous looking young human man, a human man in his mid twenties of relatively short stature armed with a chain, a young human woman with light brown skin, red hair, and green eyes who carries a distinctive green shield, and a young elf with dirty blonde hair and a gun, which Dulae knows is quite unusual. All wear practical clothes and armor for travel and adventuring in cold weather.
The lieutenant leads the human woman over to Zahan and tells him she needs to see the captain. Buhari then comes back to the rest of the group. Dulae hears him ask the young man of short stature, ”Can you tell me what kind of equipment and medicines you have at hand? Ah, and I am meant to inform you that you won’t get reimbursed in addition to your daily pay.” and then to the group of three, "And of course, I will need all of your names. Surnames are fine."
"Uh- Henri paused for a moment, thinking. I don't even remember the name I gave to the innkeeper. I don't remember that many... surnames... Her head ached as she tried to think of something that was not her last name. The one person she remembered, the person who made sure she remembered his full name - Winfried. It was all that could come to mind. She lets her answer out and prays, saying "Marchand. I'm Marchand."
Oh no. Why didn't I just say March? Guy's probably still in the damned military. Names had betrayed her again, and all she could do was hope. She idly scratched her scar, trying not to look suspicious and examining the other civilians in the room.
Private Zahan says to Alaina, "I think she may have a few minutes now, just a moment," and steps through the double doors.
After a minute, the doors open again and a calm, authoritative voice calls from within, "Enter."
Zahan waves her in with an encouraging smile and shuts the doors behind her.
The room is spacious, with two doors leading to small private offices on the side. The chaotic mess before her contrasts with the orderly appearance of the rest of the headquarters. Alaina can see piles of scrolls, books, and papers spilled over desks, some stained carelessly with ink. She can see magic items scattered on desks and the floor, including a large pile of transparent orbs of various sizes.
Alaina sees a man in his late 40s of average stature and a scholarly build standing over the desk at the front of the room, muttering softly to himself and gesticulating with his hands as though he is doing calculations in his head. Three young women and men in similar robes sit at desks pouring over papers and scrolls with tense expressions.
Directly in front of Alaina is the commanding form of a woman in her mid-50s. She is resplendent in silver celestial armor, complemented with a rich Altien-blue cloak. "I am Captain Jaya Vazquez. What is your business?"
"Shadelock. Mostly I have general treatment and preventive medicines, as well as some surgical tools. A few of the herbs and medicine could be prepared to get the soldiers back on their feet. Any preexisting injuries or problems I should know?" As he speaks of the supplies, he runs his hand's through his medical satchel, pulling out an example and putting it back.
At the mention of of lack of reparation, Xizoh kept his warm smile, although he does seem disappointed. "That works. I came to help the soldiers, and I'll do so come Norah's billowing cloak or high water."That's sort of odd, you'd assume they'd be trying to encourage healers to help. That's a decent amount of gold consumed, and doesn't encourage proper use of material.
As Henri states her name, Xizoh thinks back. Did she give a different name in the bar?
Alaina respectfully puts her hand in the middle of her chest and bows her head, as she taught to do so to any high ranking military official that visited the Guild. "Yes Ma'am, my name is Alaina Steele, and I'm looking for a man that was last seen here five years ago. About six feet high, and has red hair. Goes by the name of Marcus."
The Wolf paused for a moment, swallowing the venom building in her voice before saying, "Marcus Steele. He's my father."
Cel says quietly, "Runil, uh...sir?" and his mouth snaps shut after that. He tries to shrink away from prying eyes, still nervous about using innate, non-martial abilities in public. Also, there's a little aspect to so many people in a room and all scrutinizing each other.
Dulae watches the newcomers with interest. A healer? That would be useful. The rest look like they can handle themselves too, though I hope the nervous one doesn't throw himself off the mountain by accident...
She smiles at them in an awkward attempt at being friendly.
The captain meets her eyes. "Miss Steele, if you are who you say you are that only makes it unfortunate that I need to turn you away." She crosses her arms in front of her. "Marcus Steele is in the service of the Altiendel military, and our policy is very clear. We do not release records or whereabouts of active personnel."
Alaina notices the wizard at the front desk nearby stops his calculations and takes an interest in their conversation. He looks at her thoughtfully, as though Alaina is an intellectual curiosity. "Marcus's daughter, did you say?"
Dulae has a sense that the elf may be lying about her surname.
Xizoh doesn't notice anything odd about the elf's delivery of her name.
Cel's discomfort distracts him from paying attention to whether anyone is bluffing about their name.
Lieutenant Buhari says to Xizoh, "Shadelock. That is excellent, I think the captain would be pleased to have a healer along. You lot may have the best chance yet of finding them." He jots down some notes with a grin, then thinks for a moment. "The captain will give you instructions before you go, if she approves, but between you and me, I think they'll be pleased enough if you bring somebody back alive that they'd kick in to replenish anything costly you use."
To Henri he says, "Marchand. Mhm, mhm," jotting it down.
He smiles at Cel and says,"Nice to meet you Mr. Runil." He gives Cel a searching look. I can't help but notice you seem a bit nervous. Are you sure you're ready and willing to undertake something this dangerous?"
The Wizard's question brought her out of her contemplation. Turning to him, the Wolf answered, "I did good sir."
"Well, you see, I'm from Sky City. I've heard stories about what the government in Abbhen does to people who have...um...non-physical skills. I don't want to wind up being one of those stories!" Cel says pleadingly.
The captain thinks for a moment, then gives Alaina a small nod. “I will send a message to his commanding officer that a visitor in Southtown wants to contact him.” She pauses. “I should tell you it could be some months or years before it's approved he should receive it. You might also try sending a direct message from headquarters in Novadena, where they are more equipped to deal with family inquiries.”
She pauses. “As for the search and rescue,” she shoots Silo an annoyed glance, “If you're still interested, I’ll need you to see...”
“Marcus spoke of a daughter.” The wizard interrupts, studying Alaina with a friendly gaze. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear. I’m Silo Fairhurst.” He offers her his hand to shake. “Now, let’s see if we can’t persuade our excellent captain about your father.”
The captain says sharply, “Silo, we do not release records.”
Silo waves dismissively, “Surely we can make an exception.”
“Absolutely not.” she says firmly. “The location of those in active duty service is very sensitive information.”
Silo sighs and says, “Well, Alaina. May I call you Alaina? It seems there’s nothing we can do about regulations. But…” his eyes take on a distinctive twinkle.
“Silo.” The captain scowls at him.
“Captain Vazquez,” he smiles magnanimously. “I do provide the service of magical location for the public, do I not? Besides, if she is not of his blood, it would hardly work.”
“Sir.” The captain says as though begrudging the title.
Silo turns to Alaina. “There is a location spell, I think. Something of a specialty of mine, actually. Oh, and if that is successful, we might do a sending. Yes, yes, that’s just the thing. Let’s see, for this I’d usually charge 5000 gold in all? Something like that. Maybe 4000 for you.”
Alaina notices the captain looks annoyed and tense, almost growling at Silo, but she makes no move to intervene. The wizard is watching Alaina with amiable interest.
Silo continues, ”But you’ve generously volunteered for our search and rescue operation. Something of a pet project of mine, you see. The captain here informs me that I am, what was it? Bankrupting us, I believe? So if you join a search team until those missing are recovered, in lieu of pay I’ll do whatever I can to get you in touch with your father.”
He gestures to her shield and armor. ”Clearly you’re well equipped for the job. And that should be agreeable to everyone, hm?”
The captain makes an exasperated sound, "Honestly, Silo." Alaina hears the barest hint of fondness in her voice.
He clasps his hands together eagerly and asks Alaina, ”What do you say?”
Xizoh nods his head. "That sounds fair. I'll give them the best treatment I can."
"The kid got a point. Magic is not a blessing if you live in Abbhen. Part of why I dislike what little magic I have." Xizoh then turns to Cel, and says, "I don't think you'll have too much issue here. Most people have been tolerant of magic from what I've seen."
Cel listens to Xizoh's statement, and tries to feign a smile of relief to Xizoh's assurances...
...but inside the fear is still present.
Alaina didn't truly know how to react. While she was grateful of Master Fairhurst, she was also taught to be respectful of military rules and regulations. But that was in Abbhen, this was Alteindel. Still, the Wolf didn't want to piss off a ranking military official of a place she was probably going to spend the foreseeable future in. Turning to the Wizard, "This spell you speak of, you're sure it would not give away any sort of military secrets? I may not be from this country, but I still respect military personnel regardless of where they're from. It's how I was raised. If you're certain that I'll just be able to send him a message without compromising anything, then I'll accept your terms."
In the back of her mind, she was still trying to figure out how a Wizard seemed to know so much about Marcus. He hated magic. Why would he be working for a Wizard? Was he the one he was getting the magic supplies for? That's the only thing that makes sense.
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, "Pardon me, Master Fairhurst, how do you seem to know Marcus so well?"
Lieutenant Buhari chuckles at Cel’s response. ”I am sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. Clearly you are very brave to come here of all places, believing that. Truly.” He jots down another note.
He looks between Cel, Xizoh, and Henri. ”I should have guessed you’ve come from Abbhen. Welcome.”
He gestures toward Xizoh, ”I quite agree with you, Shadelock. I’ve visited Abbhen a few times now. I learned pretty quick that the best seats at the bar are for non-mages. Except for those wardens - what I wouldn’t give to figure out how they do what they do.”
He shakes his head as if to clear the thought. ”Anyway, you should be quite safe here. I think the last I’d heard of a mage getting taken in for high level magic was five years ago, and she disintegrated somebody in the middle of the street. That was something.”
The lieutenant rifles through his notes. ”I think I have everything I need. Sit tight and thanks for coming.” He walks through the office doors.
Alaina notices the captains smiles in an approving way at her reply.
Silo raises his eyebrows at Alaina in amused surprise. “Well I do sometimes take the counsel of my junior officers in these matters,” he says in a teasing tone, giving the captain a deferential wave.
She rolls her eyes and breathes out sharply. She glances away for a moment, thinking, then replies confidently, “A sending should be fine, Silo. If you’re bent on doing this.”
Silo turns to Alaina again. “I read into the good Captain’s reply that she doesn’t trust my “crazy experimental hoodoo” to tell us if you are related to Marcus Steele.” He glances at the captain, who shrugs noncommittally. “Indeed. Well, let us not begrudge her this. After we’ve located our missing parties, it appears we may send your father as many sendings as we wish.”
“Don’t push it.” the captain growls.
Silo chuckles heartily. In response to Alaina’s question he says, ”Hmm, well, I wouldn’t say I know him very well. As well as anyone can expect to know a colleague in passing, I suppose.”
The office doors open and Lieutenant Buhari enters, brandishing some handwritten notes. ”There’s a group of six ready and waiting outside,” he says.
”And Alaina makes seven! Very good. Send them in, send them in!” Silo waves at him with excitement.
As Buhari leaves again to summon the others, Silo says to Alaina, ”All in good time, my dear.” He leans a bit closer and says more quietly, ”I am not permitted to tell you any stories, I fear. But, I am known to patron the Wolf and Bear, and I am partial to their winter ale.”
”Silo!” Captain Vazquez frowns at him disapprovingly.
”Joking, of course.” He winks at Alaina.
The doors open again, and the group enters. Alaina recognizes Henri, Xizoh, and Cel, as well as the three others that had been in the waiting room. Lieutenant Buhari and Private Zahan enter last and Private Zahan shuts the door firmly behind them.
Less than two minutes later, Lieutenant Buhari re-emerges and calls. ”Thanks for waiting everyone. They’re ready to see the rest of the volunteers now.” He motions for everyone to follow him inside.
Private Zahan holds a door open for the group to enter.
The room is spacious. Two doors lead to small private offices on the side. The chaotic mess inside contrasts with the orderly appearance of the rest of the headquarters. Piles of scrolls, books, and papers are spilled over desks, some stained carelessly with ink. Magic items are scattered on desks and the floor, including a large pile of transparent orbs of various sizes.
A man in his late 40s of average stature and a scholarly build is beaming at them from behind a desk at the front of the room covered in papers and ink. Three young women and men in similar robes sit at desks behind him pouring over papers and scrolls with tense expressions.
To his right is the commanding form of a woman in her mid-50s. She is resplendent in silver celestial armor, complemented with a rich Altien-blue cloak. She is currently glowering at the entering group.
Alaina is standing in front of the desk, as though she were recently conversing with the wizard and the woman in armor.
Lieutenant Buhari and Private Zahan enter last and Private Zahan shuts the door firmly behind them.
The room looks more or less the same as it did yesterday. The captain and the wizard are standing behind the desk - the wizard is beaming and the captain is glowering.
The fighter with the shield who entered with the rest of the group from Abbhen is standing in front of the desk, as though she were recently conversing with the wizard and the paladin.
Henri recognizes the wizard at the front desk as a very high ranking one from his robes, and thinks his CR would be about a 10. She knows the three other wizards at work are likely the wizard's apprentices.
Henri recognizes from her armor that the woman is a paladin captain, and nominally the head of the southern contingent of the Altiendel military. From what she knows, Henri thinks she is about a CR 9 or 10. Henri also finds the disorder in the office very odd, and knows this is a potential sign that the wizard here outranks the captain in the military hierarchy.
Henri recognizes the orbs as teleportations orbs, used by the military. She knows these operate like the teleport spell, with one charge each. It will transport anyone touching it. The radius of the orb dictates the radius of the spell. She thinks they are very expensive to make. To see so many here makes her wonder if this wizard is their inventor.
Xizoh doesn’t get a good read on the wizard’s capability. From the woman’s stance and armor, he thinks she is a paladin and figures her CR would certainly be above a 7.
From her bearing and armor, Cel thinks the woman in armor is a paladin, and probably a high-ranking one. Cel has a sense her CR is greater than 9.
Cel is fairly sure the wizard is a highly ranking one too, given that his robes seem a bit nicer. It’s harder to tell what his CR would be.
The paladin takes the notes on the volunteers from Lieutenant Buhari and he moves to stand to her right in an easy but attentive stance. She reads the notes for a moment, pauses to let her gaze linger on the two teens, then shoots the lieutenant an exasperated glare.
”Out!” she barks at the two youths. Private Zahan opens the door for them as they scurry out of the room, eyes cast down.
She dumps their notes unceremoniously in a bin and reads over the rest.
She comments, ”In addition to a fighter we have... another fighter, a healer, and a... wind mage? Someone will have to explain that to me.”
She frowns and brings one set of notes closer to read. “And I see we have a ‘stupendous badass’ gracing our presence.” The captain gives Dulae a serious look. “No doubt you recognize the grave nature of this endeavor. I’d thank you to act like it. Do not test me.” She narrows her eyes at Dulae.
The captain finishes reviewing the notes and gives her approval to the wizard with a terse nod.
The wizard claps his hands together. “Thank you all for coming. My name is Silo Fairhurst, and this is Captain Vazquez,” he says, gesturing to himself and the paladin captain.
He continues, ”You’ve probably heard by now that more than a month ago this confounded mist started manifesting at night on Mount Oranis. Recently it’s been appearing even when it’s cloudy. There’s obviously something dangerous lurking in there. My theory is a young frost drake. Perhaps a night wyvern. Hopefully not an ice linnorm. Hmm.” The wizard strokes his chin, deep in thought.
”Silo.” The captain speaks softly but firmly.
"Right. What was I saying? Ah yes. Five days ago we lost a team on the mountain during a cloudy afternoon. A search and rescue team disappeared in the same way the next day. Terrible business.
”There is of course an official search, all done as this soldier-type policy dictates. Very rigorous, from the mountain base up,” he says. The captain purses her lips at this comment.
”But naturally that could take weeks. Probably months with winter on the way. So I’ve commissioned this program for civilians to aid in the search by following locator maps, tuned to our missing people,” he holds up a sheet of paper with a rough sketch of Mount Oranis and a single red dot on it.
He grins at them congenially. “I am exceedingly glad that we can field a team this afternoon. I think with this next batch of maps you will have the best chance yet of finding them.
”If you agree, you’ll get your instructions from Captain Vazquez. Any questions?”
Cel quite visibly relaxes for the first time after seeing a wizard commanding the room. His posture unwinds and while he's in a bit of awe at the paladin, the curiosity begins to blossom yet again. This is probably the first time in his life he's ever felt like he doesn't have to hide what he can do. The tension release leads Cel to finally take in all the various magical trinkets, baubles, and the overall wonder of the room. This, of course, inevitably comes with a little overstepping of his bounds. He heads over to the transparent orbs, leans in to the point that his nose nearly touches one, and says, "Ooooo, what are these?" interrupting the Silo in the middle of the word "questions."
"They're so pretty! What do they do? Can I touch them?" Turning to Silo, he continues on without hesitation, "What kind of wizard are you? Can you make things fly? I want to fly some day. Those are neat robes! Are they magical too?"
It registers that the paladin mentioned needing an explanation of what a "wind mage" is. Before the wizard has a chance to answer his tirade of questions, something happens. Bolstered by the confidence that "special" abilities are accepted here, Cel looses a little control of his better judgment.
For a split second there is only the sound. The sound is that of a suction, but on a massive scale. Something akin to an entire guild hall having the air sucked out of it in the span of two seconds. Only the brain's processing speed can pick up that there is nothing to account for the sound before any visible effect occurs. The sound continues and grows, and then the effect starts. Cels clothes begin to rustle, then flap, then blow around him. Papers begin to swirl, pulling towards his body, circling him in the invisible but noisy vortex of wind that is now surrounding him...
The sound of the suction grows and begins to take on the sound of a tornado, though not quite as loud. Anything light weight and not weighted down begins to pull towards the invisible swirl. Cel brings his arms back as the sound reaches a crescnedo and ceases. The room seems quieter than it did before all of this started as if sound is a dampened like an insulated room or a peaceful night after a heavy snowfall. But again, only the brain's processing speed can pick up that the sound disappears for only a split second before anything happens...
Cel throws his arms forward and a great cacophony of wind bursts forth rushing towards one of the larger piles of books. The contact of the windwall with the books can be heard outside the room and the stack hurtles towards the wall opposite of Cel as if they were hit by a speeding train. They crash against the wall and pin there for a second before the great sounds ends, and they clatter to the floor. There doesn't appear to be a great deal of damage done to the books beyond some minor scuffs on the bindings and a couple of ripped pages from a book or two that contacted the wall at an awkward angle.
Cel has never let loose in public before, and he is clearly beaming with a giant grin. A perceptive person would see that the lifetime of pent up worry about his ability in combination with the obvious relief that he wouldn't be snatched up and experimented on, or something of the sort, got the best of him. The grin holds as the books fall to the ground, but a second later is dawns on him what he just did. "Oh...I...uh..." his grin disappears to an expression of realization that even if special abilities are accepted in this part of the world, this is still a military building and while he wasn't a soldier these people were very much his superiors. "Uh...whoops!" is all he can say as his face turns bright red and takes on the quality of a puppy who just got caught tearing up the couch.