Lalitsa and Cyanne have a smooth watch, and before too long the sun breaks through the canopy, shimmering brilliantly off the Thorn River. The dwarf seems much more reasonable with the new day, though he gruffly refuses to apologize for his behavior, insisting that it's the party's job to help him get to safety. Leped, for his part, stares at the dwarf balefully before wandering over to stand near Daen.
The party travels fast, not trying to explore as they go but instead making straight for Oleg's Trading Post. Most of the morning and a few hours in the afternoon are dedicated to pushing through brambles, slogging through an unexpected marsh in the Narlmarches, and crossing a dozen small streams, but mercifully, no boars or bandits strike.
Before long, the pines begin to thin out, transitioning first into patches of scrub oak that rips at the parties clothing and the horses' hides as they pass, before even that fades to rolling fields of grasses and tangy-smelling sage. The ride across the plains is finished by dusk as the party, as well as the former prisoners, ride into Oleg's. The place doesn't seem to have changed much, although a ramshackle wooden stall fifty yards downwind of the trading post speaks to the needs of a larger population than Oleg had ever intended stay here.
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He leaned back on his elbow and continued talking. "I can't imagine living in stinky water. I've spent most of my life in the city, and indeed much of that in just one house. I had no idea the world was so wide until I came out here. And I never really know what to expect. That's why I was so tense before. I don't want anything bad to happen to my friends over there. Not just because it would be bad for them, but it would be bad for me as well. There aren't any unruly animals or monsters around here are there? I figure you would know more than I would."
Rikka at first gave the offered had a dismissive glare, though Cyannes words quickly made her demeanor change. With a curious head tilt, she looked Cyanne in the eyes, before leaping into her hand, running down her arm and circling her body three times in quick succession. Ending at Tangos side, she enthusiastically sniffed him and Cyanne both, squeaking loudly.
Cyanne laughs as the other mongoose circles her, pleased that Tango isn't the jealous sort. She can feel an odd mix of emotions from Tango over the empathic link -- watchfulness, curiosity, and a rising excitement. When Rikka starts sniffing Tango, Tango sniffs back and then chitters contentedly. "I'm glad you two approve of each other, now."
"Well, Rikka seems to approve of you, and of the two of us, she's the least trusting." In reply to an insisting squeak from Rikka, he extended a hand for her to clamber back to her perch, now that her inspection was complete. "She is indeed one who dares, as am I, when I need to be." He added in elvish, a hand offered in greeting.
So he was from the academy! "I can see that she's a lady of discerning tastes." She grins at him and takes the hand he offers. "Meeting a fellow member of the 'Order of the Mongoose,'" she says, naming Aron's silly nickname for academy graduates, "is an unexpected pleasure."
As Luthor holds her hand a few seconds longer than necessary, she realizes he's staring at her.
She can tell he's flirting a little, but men often did, and Luthor could be the friendly type who flirts with everyone. He seems harmless enough for now, and a little innocent flirting never hurt anyone.
"Ah, Aasimar, correct?" Luthor said, budding into the conversation. "Id been wondering about it ever since we first met. Admittedly there's a wide variety of potential reasons for naturally blue hair, but Aasimar seems the most likely. It would also explain how were were not attending school at the same time. You must be at least 50, right?" He looked at her with expectant, curious eyes, a boyish look of excitement on his face as he waited for her to confirm, oblivious to the rather prying and personal nature of his questions.
"Yes," she says, resigned. There was no being a normal girl with these people now. She's not angry with Luthor, who looks so excited to have solved the puzzle. She's just disappointed. "I'm 69 years old."
The third was that ... well he'd rather not think about that. To this he felt a little twinge of despair. He ended up keeping his silence and doing his best to focus on other things.
She feels Daen stiffen in her arms and go silent at the news of what she was. Already, he was withdrawing. She blinks away a tear. Why did so many of the people she liked have to react so badly when they learned what she was?
She turns to Kaz. "You asked me why parents would give a child up for the good of a community. Imagine if there was a fae-looking child in your village, one who looked only 7 or 8 when she was still 20. One who never seemed to grow up. Imagine the village women spreading nasty rumors about the child's mother, saying that she must have had a fling with a faery. The child's parents were so ashamed that they covered her hair with scarves and floppy hats, but it did no good. Other children would surround the girl, throwing rocks and calling her a changeling. One day the little girl turns on her tormentors and glitters them with a blinding light. The church elders become worried. What else will this changeling monster do? No one knew what I was... They just knew that I was a problem." All of this was said quietly, without a trace of anger.
"It was Lirpeth that identified what I was, and who told my parents that aasimar blood can show up after many generations. She thinks that I'm 'muse-touched', with an azata somewhere in my heritage. Because of the voice, you see."
Maybe it was best to just show them.
Welcome to the academy,
I see you're new, well follow me
Reading nooks with books galore
All this knowledge to explore
Find a tree, now clamber up
You can pet my mongoose pup
CHORUS:
Find the hidden passage, climb the secret stair
The whole world's open to those that dare
Child, you no longer have to hide your hair
Oh, this is where we'll teach you to dance on air
We don't care what you were before
All that matters is what's at your core
Drink from our overflowing cup
Raise your head and don't give up!
While you unravel music, magic, art
You'll find the truths within your heart
The lyrics are innocent and childish, but the melody's complex and Cyanne's striking voice soars as she sings it.
"I wrote that song when I was little, after my first month in the academy. After I stopped crying for my parents." She colors. "Lirpeth liked it enough she sometimes used to sing it with new students."
”Bet that’s been thrown in yer face eh Cyanne? Listen, anyone gives ya trouble over it, let me know an’ I’ll come pummel ‘em for ya. People can’t help what they born as right? Ain’t like ya get to pick all yer traits ‘fore ya enter the world.”
At the blond woman's words, Cyanne looks up. Could it be that she's found someone else who just likes her, whatever her heritage? A friend like Svetlana? She wipes her face dry and grins. "Thank you. Should I ever need someone to pummel people for me, you'll be the first person I'll ask."
But didn't Luthor do that too? They came from the same school, so she couldn't be too against that in particular. At least she wasn't completely repulsed by him, offering her horse. All this was very confusing.
Upon his short nap after his watch as well as his daily magical study, Daen had relaxed a bit. Being charmed by the nixie was embarrassing as hell, so he purposefully avoided telling anyone. Oddly enough, the couple hours they spent talking had him feeling much better about the whole situation. He was sure that very little of what they'd actually talked about would have come out had he not been sure the others were sleeping, and being magically convinced that the nixie was his best friend. He was grateful that she was willing to let him go, so he left her a small offering of silver coins beside the creek as a thank you.
He took it upon himself to redistribute food and water stores so no one would either hungry or dry on the rest of the trip. He also did some stretching exercises to help keep him limber, particularly his sword arm. After he was done and they were striking camp he approached Cyanne. "Would you allow me the honor of directing Volte again today?"
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She sits up suddenly, eyes wide. "Not that I mind being alone here, it's just the family's up in Silverstep, and it's a long swim, upstream both ways, in the cold. I guess the Skunk's not that smelly. I should pay her a visit, it's been a while, and maybe she's thinking of me. She could get out and visit, even more a homebody than me..." The creature trails off, staring up at the sky, and for a few minutes she's quiet.
"Unruly animals? Oh, yes! That dragon and the big stupid cricket won't leave me alone! If you don't know what I'm talking about, you will soon enough. Always wanting to sing duets with me, and dropping pinecones on me from above, or running spidersilk nets along the river to trip me up!" She looks at Daen coyly. "I've been told I have a wonderful singing voice, you know. All nixies do. Aaaand I'm pretty, and I smell great, and I'm smarter than all my sisters, and I make friends better too. I wonder why none of them ever visit?"
The small fey-a nixie, she said- stretches, arcing her back and reaching forward with her webbed hands. "The big stupid cricket said there was a big mean thing off to the southwest, but I can't walk that far. I'd dry right up! I can only assume she meant a bear or one of those ridiculous owl-things."
"A knight of Erastil?" Kazimir repeats, staring at Cyanne in amazement. "How did a man of faith and honour end up the way he is now?" Suddenly, it all makes a bit more sense, and he nearly rides into a branch; he ducks just in time, cursing his own inattentiveness. He sits in silence for a while, thinking. "Perhaps," he says finally, "all he needs is someone to show him the way back. When you fall from the beaten path, let faith be the lantern that guides you back to safety." His hand brushes the holy symbol at his neck, rough leather gloves rubbing over the old, smooth antler. "Perhaps he can still be reasoned with if we see him again."
"Watch out!" Cyanne says as Kazimir ducks. "Sorry," she says, coloring, "that was a second too late, wasn't it?"
She pauses, and swallows. "Kazimir, not all the followers of Erastil are like you. You and my siblings exemplify the best qualities of those who worship the Elk Father. But there are some of your faith who are harsh, and leap to judgment. Believe me, I know."
"Akiros..." She inadvertently hugs Daen too tight as she tenses, remembering what the story that Akiros had told her late at night. "Akiros fell in love with a woman who betrayed him and called rape when her husband found out. The church elders dragged him into judgment. In one moment, he felt both his love and his church turn on him. And he snapped. He murdered the girl -- the one that I remind him of -- and her husband. He thinks he's irredeemable."
Cyanne frowns and takes a deep breath. "I think that he can find faith again... but do you think that Erastil would really take him back? Or that he would want to be redeemed if it were in Ol' Deadeye's name? We may have to find another way."
And I know just the goddess to do it.
”OH. Almost forgot. Yer bein’ worried that ya messed up that planna Akiroses? Woulda gone south anyways. Ya offer me the Stag Lord’s beta an’ imma hit ‘em over the head ‘an take him home for questioning.”
Cyanne laughs. "I bet you would!" She looks rueful. "I wish that I could have done that." She raises her sleeve, showing the livid bruises on her arm from two days before when Akiros had grabbed her and dragged her into his tent. "He protected me, and beat any man in his group who tried to feel me up, but his own treatment of me was less than gentle."
Cyanne startles awake as the curly haired blonde, gently shakes her shoulder. Sitting up, eyes wide open and panicky, she pulls her arm back. "NO! NO! Get your grubby..." She breaks off, confused. The bandits had been there, in her dreams, leering at her again. Pawing her. She takes a deep breath, focusing for a moment. Praise Shelyn, they're not there. "Oh... it's you. I thought... I thought I was back."
Embarrassed, she pulls herself out from the bedroll, trembling. If they were in her head, will they ever truly be gone for her? "Damn. How long am I going to keep having to be scared of them?"
"I'm only so-so as a fighter. I wouldn't want to slow you guys down. But if you ever think that you might want some extra hands... I want the bandits gone from these woods too. No one should have to go through what Lepod and I did. No one."
After she and Laliytsa wake the boys and they make breakfast, Cyanne takes a few minutes to prestidigitate the dishes clean.
Then she stretches, trying to work out all the kinks and stiffness from the days of hard riding. She reminds her sore and aching muscles that she's a dancer -- flexible, strong, well balanced.
With Tango, she starts to do flips and somersaults, turns and splits. She gracefully arches her back, raising one leg over her head before moving in one of her old ballet dance routines. After four days of performing for leering bandits, she's not in the mood for burlesque. It feels good to move, to reclaim back her body and her life from their imprisonment, and she dances her defiance.
Afterwards, she helps the others strike camp.
"Would you allow me the honor of directing Volte again today?"
She looks up in surprise at the ever courteous swordsman. He wants to ride with her... again? But he had been so stiff when he discovered the truth of her heritage. She wants to ask him about it, and then decides not to. The important thing is that he's still her friend now. "That would be lovely. Why don't we take turns on who's in front with the reins, so you can have some breaks too?"
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He nodded in agreement to the description of the Fairy dragon and the Grig they had met. "Yes, I met them too. I threw pine cones back at them. I've got a pretty good arm. I think we're going to find that big monster later."
He did his best to keep up with all the things she was talking about, since that's what friends do. A lot of it came out in rapid succession as she took her pauses. "I can't even sing. Completely tone-deaf. You should sing for me sometime. Your friends might visit more often if you didn't cast charm magic on them. It tends to make people grumpy when it wears off. I do think you're pretty, the prettiest Nixie I've ever seen. And you're the only one I've ever seen, so I'm not really a good person to ask about such things. Also I'm afraid I fell in love yesterday." And he put his hand over his mouth. He couldn't believe that it just came out. But there it was, hanging in the air like an overripe fruit.
Morning
He wasn't the only one who was trying to limber up in the morning, but when he noticed her actually dancing. It took until she was completely done before he noticed he had forgotten all about his own exercises, and finished them quickly before helping to strike camp.
Upon her suggestion that they take turns, he took a moment to think about how he'd answer. He could easily come up with some excuse, or beat around the bush, but it seemed to him that he should just be straight forward or he'd continue to feel terribly awkward around her for all of the next day. And since she was friend with Svetlana and was probably going to be in the area for some time, it should at least be made clear, at least for himself.
Hopefully no one else was really listening in, but he leaned in and spoke quietly as if he were telling a secret, which of course, he was. "If you don't mind, I'd actually like to stay in front. Not only am I not adverse to work, but I've never actually ridden double with anyone before yesterday, much less an attractive woman as yourself. Having the distraction of directing the horse and keeping my eyes in front of us instead of gazing at your hypnotic tresses dancing in the breeze..." He paused for a moment and closed his eyes instead of doing as he wished which was indeed staring at the little slight strand that had blown onto her elegant neck and regathered his strength to look her in the eye.
He started anew. "As one of your rescuers it would be remiss of me to distracted from my surroundings to the extent of being oblivious to them." Hells, that was far from smooth. He thought he got his point across. He just hoped she wouldn't be offended. Maybe he should have just asked Luthor for a ride.
Cyanne shares some of the delicious pork with Tango, and then watches as Tango and Rikka play some kind of tag and leaping game that involved many pauses for indignant squeaking.
She turns to Luthor. "I want to apologize for being snippy earlier. You're very clever to have figured out what I am, and I really shouldn't be so sensitive about it."
”You spent a lota time ‘round Restov? I’ve gotta bard friend there named Emmala, mebbe you met her?”
"I don't recall the name. Do you know where she performs? Until recently, I worked mostly in New Stetvan. When I moved back here, it was because my mother was ill, and I spent most of my non-working hours getting to know her and my family again. If she's a favorite of yours, maybe we can catch her show the next time we're in town!"
Laliytsa watches the sparring and shrugs. ”Nah. Boys always doin’ somethin’ silly to prove who’s the ‘most manly manest’ or whatever. Might as well let ‘em work it outta their system.” The ranger hands Cyanne a stick speared through meat. She holds another one over the fire.
"Good advice." Cyanne grins, and says, "I think this may be the best pork I've ever had. Or maybe that's the hunger talking... Thank you for sharing it, and for being so welcoming. I... really appreciate that."
"Hypnotic tresses?" That was a new one!
She wants to giggle. Perhaps hypnotic hair is a hitherto unknown aasimar power, like her voice or the glitterdust.
Suddenly, Daen's puzzling behavior of the previous day makes sense. This is why he was there, everywhere she turned. Why he was always there to help, and yet somehow looking everywhere but at her.
She knew that at some point in the future she'd be able to tease him mercilessly about this statement, and they'd both laugh, and this would become a story that they could tell others about the day they met. But that time is not now.
Right now, he's flustered and likely wishing he were anywhere else.
She grins. "You're new to this, aren't you? Don't worry, I think you're kind of cute too."
Kazimir flinches at the words - though there's no malice in the tone, something in the delivery seems to lash at him, and he regrets prying. Next time you tell yourself not to offer unsolicited words, listen, he tells himself. He immediately puts this advice into practice, saying nothing in response, simply looking ahead sadly.
"I cannot speak for any other member of my faith, and I hardly exemplify the best qualities of anything. I simply am what I am, following what feels right to me. And there are members of all faiths who are as you describe - there is no right path of faith, and what seems harsh to one is fine to another." Kazimir isn't sure if he's making sense to anyone other than himself, but he presses on. "His tale is one filled with grief, but to swear oneself as a knight to a deity... That's not the kind of thing you can turn your back on so easily." He adjusts his posture, rolling his right shoulder with a series of popping noises.
"Erastil looks after his faithful, as a shepherd with his flock. And if one wanders, his reach is great, and his sights are greater. A wanderer can always be found again - no matte how wide the world is, no-one remains lost forever. But at any rate, this is a hypothetical discussion. We may never meet him again." And wouldn't that be a relief, he reminds himself, more to convince himself than anything else.
While Kaz takes a few moments to appreciate Cyanne's athleticism, he doesn't openly stare like Daen - catching the half-elf staring, he sighs, shaking his head and approaching Laliytsa.
"Would you mind giving me a hand getting into this? It goes quicker with a bit of help," he asks as he begins pulling on his patched hide armour. In a lower tone, he adds, for her ears only, "And if I may ask your aid in smething else... I saw something odd, for the second time in as many nights. I was joined during my watch by a stag with the strangest coat - a silvery brown, unlike anything I've seen. It fled, yet when I searched the ground, its tracks seemed to vanish. But my eyes aren't as keen as yours - perhaps you might see something I missed?" He nods to the southwest, indicating where he saw the creature. "Of course, it's entirely possible I dreamed the entire thing, but... I can't get it out of my head." That, among other things.
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While there was mirth in her eyes, it wasn't really of the kinds that he'd seen before. She was probably patronizing him. Sometimes the servants in the Surtovan household did that, all nods and smiles while on the inside they were just rolling their eyes about what this kid was going on about.
He'd been laughed at before. Twice. One of his more distant cousins used to flirt with him fiercely, but when he'd try to return the attention, she'd merely laugh and shut him down. Later he found out that she was mocking him behind her back to just about anyone. The second time was at Dueling School. One of the few girls he had class with had entranced him, although in hindsight he hadn't fallen this hard, and he told her about it. She laughed so hard, tears came out of her eyes, but she was nice enough not to spread rumors.
Kind of cute? Well, it was a step up from before. "Yes." He said a bit too quickly. Then he was confused again. She called him cute, he should respond. "Thanks." He added at a more appropriate time, and was truly perplexed. Not only did she not answer his question, but he was suddenly unsure of what she meant by any of it. "Wait, what's 'this'?"
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"You have?" Buvormest stands, grabbing Daen's hand and trying to pull him to his feet. Here eyes flicker with excitement. "Which one! Show me!"
"That lovely vision over there, with the blue hair." He said, pointing at Cyanne. He wanted to make sure the nixie didn't misunderstand him or confuse who it was he was pointing at. From this angle, she wasn't too far away from the dwarf, and that would have been terribly awkward. "She's a dancer, and a terribly good singer and poet. The bandits were going to do all sorts of shameful things to her as well as probably kill her, and I'm glad we were able to rescue her. But she's so pretty, and experienced, and good with her words. I'm pretty sure I'm out of my depth with her though, and it's got me down." He used a metaphor he was pretty sure she'd be familiar with, if they even understood it the same way.
Kaz's words strike a chord with her. "I hadn't thought of it that way... about how much effort and dedication might go into becoming a Knight of Erastil. It's like being a dancer, isn't it? You have to give it everything you've got, body and soul, and put in years of training." She pauses, suddenly understanding Akiros and his rage a little better. "If I couldn't dance... That man must feel like his very soul's been ripped apart."
A stray breeze causes her hair to fall in her face. She pulls it out again and meets his gaze. "Kazimir, I'm pretty sure that we'll meet Akiros again. Daen tells me that the group's charter is to eliminate bandits, and there's no bigger bandit in this area then the Stag Lord."
She sighs. "One way or another, I think our paths are meant to cross."
She doesn't register the unconscious 'we' she voiced or that she's already thinking of herself as part of this group of friends. She just thinks of what it would mean to meet Akiros again, and she shivers.
Wait a minute. What just happened? She's baffled at his suddenly stiff and prickly demeanor. She'd just told him she liked him, hadn't she? Why isn't he laughing with her? Why did he suddenly pull back?
His approach had been so formal. Maybe her informality had offended him? She tries to remember the noble manners and etiquette that Lirpeth had drilled into her and the other students.
"Daen... have I offended? Please believe that my intention was quite the opposite." She searches his face for a reaction, trying to understand this strange man. "As for 'this', what I meant by it was flirtation, and courting. I thought with your dedication to hard work and the sword, that maybe you had not had a previous chance to explore matters of the heart. Perhaps this was a poor assumption on my part."
"May I start over?"
She takes a deep breath, and courtesies. "Daen, I would be honored if you would direct Volte for me."
The half elf's eyes widen with a bit of shock, and for the first time in as far back as he could remember an unbidden and spontaneous smile comes to his face, but just for a moment. "Ah, yes!" he exclaimed, "No, no. I'm just confused. You are right, I've had little chance to pursue those things, nor have I had a teacher or study partner. I just have what mother told me, and what little I've read in books." As she searched his face, he noted her concern. This wasn't some kind of rejection, it was wholly new territory. And considering how much he didn't like where he had been, this was a good thing.
"So, you're planning to stay in the area for a little while?" He asked hopefully, hopping up into the saddle with ease and extending his hand down to help her up. "At this rate, we wont be able to finish our charter for a couple months. But the delay is worth it to do a good job, in my opinion. It's possible that I was only assigned to this in hopes that I'd fail or get killed, but I'm looking forward to the chance to prove them wrong." Having her warm hands around him as she slid into place behind him felt good, but he was still able to focus around them pretty well.
There had been that one thing he'd been wondering about. "Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"
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The smile lights and changes his whole face. For a moment, she feels a rush of giddiness that takes her by surprise. How long was it since she had felt that way about anyone?
After his serious comment about a lack of a teacher or a study partner, she wonders a moment at his academic approach to the subject. Would he expect lesson plans? And what sort?
Gracefully avoiding the topic of his mother, she says, "Books and songs are only true about the heart in retrospect. They never prepare you for what's coming. Nothing truly can."
She looks up at him, earnestly. "Daen, I don't know what this is yet. We barely know each other. This may be a passing fancy. Or it may be something else. There's no way of knowing what the water's like without diving in and getting over your head."
She accepts his hand and climbs up behind him. "Yes, I'm hoping to stay here a while, to be with Svetlana during..." She breaks off. Telling these strangers about Lana's baby before Lana got the chance to tell Oleg about it herself would be the worst kind of betrayal. "...her settling-in period," she finishes, lamely.
"I don't mind you asking a personal question, if I can return the favor."
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"She's pretty." Buvormest stares at Cyanne with wide eyes. "I mean, not as pretty as me, but not bad. I mean, her hair's altogether too light a tone of blue, and she doesn't smell like a proper mate should. Look, Day-in, I was going to ask you if you wanted to stay with me for a while. I've got a spell I could cast that'd make it so you can breathe and everything. Proper breathing, not this thin stuff. It'd be fun. But you're in lo-ove, so I guess I won't ask." The nixie stands on tip-toe and kisses Daen on the cheek before walking over to the river, webbed feet snaring in the grass and reeds. "You remember me, now, Day-in. You remember me fondly!" With a last look over her shoulder, she dives into the water. The remainder of the night is quiet, though every so often, Daen thinks he might hear a quiet sobbing over the rush of the river, and a few times he catches the nixie's eyes staring from just above the waterline.
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“Uh...somethin’ weird. Burnt Onion or somethin’. She’s probably not there anymore, she likes hoppin’ between places. Would be nice to see her next time we make it to town...whenever that is”
Laliytsa beckons for Cyanne to follow her. The two move away from the campfire; Laliytsa doesn’t want their conversation to wake anyone else up. She parks herself on a large rock and mulls over Cyanne’s words. It takes her a few minutes before she speaks up.
“Fightin’ ain’t hard to learn. Just takes practice. What’s hard is findin’ someone who goes through a lickin’ an’ comes back for more. Lotsa people train as fighters fer years an’ break after their first bad run. Someone who doesn’t run, who wants to protect others instead? I can respect that person.”
Speech over, Laliytsa pulls out her waterskin and takes a swig. She offers it to Cyanne. The side of her mouth quirks up as she gets a new thought.
“I had somethin’ that scared me once too. Bad experience. I found that smashin’ an axe in to what scares ya does wonders for a body.”
Laliytsa starts at Kaz’s words. She’d been watching Cyanne and Daen’s interaction with obvious amusement.
”Oh..err..ok.” Hide armor, as a whole, doesn’t have a lot of variation. Laliytsa’s had a lot of practice helping family members into it; not surprising that it’s common in a family of hunters. She’s able to shift the pieces and lace him up while also looking where he indicates. From here she can’t see anything but it wouldn’t hurt to get a closer look.
“Sounds like some Erastil thing. But sure, I’ll go poke ‘round.” Once Kaz is suited up she walks around searching for tracks.
Rask looks at Cyanne, a blank expression on his face. "The fee was simply a potential cost of doing business in a lawless place. Elder Golka wanted to be sure I'd make it home, and he knew the area was dangerous. The clan thinks there's like to be gold in them there hills..." He gestures to the southeast. "So, they sent me to inspect the area because my lungs didn't grow strong enough for mine-dust, so I'm expendable."
The dwarf pauses, looking at the remaining, non-dueling party members. "Look, if you come across anything worth mining, let the Golka clan know. Golushkin dwarves are the best miners, but the Golkas are the best of them. And...our prices are always reasonable. Pay you a good finder's fee, Elder Golka would."
Cyanne listens to Rask's story, and nods. "I'll talk with the others about it, especially Kaz. They're going to be surveying the whole area," she says, wistfully, already wishing that she could stay traveling with this friendly group. And then she thinks some more and says, "On second thought, let's bring Kaz over to talk to you some more about this. You can give him more details on what you're looking for."
She points a finger across the fire at Kaz, whispering so only he can hear.
"May I interrupt you, Kazimir? If so, could you spare a few minutes to talk with Rask and myself?"
Cyanne waves at Kaz as the paladin looks up at her whisper. When he comes over, she catches him up on Rask's offer while the boys continue their stick duel.
"Rask, how much authority do you have to negotiate a deal on that finder's fee? If you have the authority, think about how your clan would look at you if you were the one to bring back a new mining site for them... And I think that we'd enjoy dealing with a representative that we could trust. Kazimir, what do you think?"
She turns back to Rask. "Could you detail out what we should look for in a site? And how we may contact you if we find one? And just what sort of finders fee did you have in mind? We're not cheap, but we're fair." She pulls out a notebook, preparing to take notes on the agreement between the two men.
Later, she tells Kaz, "I hope you don't mind me stepping in there when I'm not part of your team, but for some reason Rask brought that offer to me. I wanted to make sure your team could work something out with him."
Cyanne blushes at Laliytsa's compliment. "Thank you. I'm not sure I'm the axe type, but I have a bow and a sword and a little magic. If you guys ever decide you want extra help, call for me at the Fort."
Tango stands up and chitters.
Cyanne grins. "I wasn't forgetting you, my friend. Of course you go wherever I do. That's a given." She turns to Laliytsa and says, "And Tango, too."
She takes a swig of the offered water, and says, "Could you tell me more about that boar, and your other adventures so far?" Halfway in to Laliytsa's recital, she starts writing down verses to the boar-fighting song, smiling. She shares a few verses with Laliytsa. "This song is a bit ridiculous... but maybe it would be nice if people could hear more of the great job all of you are doing out here."
"Can I ask you something?" She hesitates, then plunges ahead. "Is Daen always so stiff and formal? Or is he just shy with strangers?"
"HAA-" segues into a coughing fit complete with the Ranger pounding on her chest.
"Swallowed a bug" Either she's a horrible liar or she's not even trying. Maybe both. "Shy? Eh, not the word I'd use. He's kinda formal fancy pants. First day we're at the fort an' he tells Oleg we're gonna take down the bandits whats been takin' their stuff because 'Their demands are uncivilized and brutish as they are not providing services equal to or in excess of their demands' When reciting Daen's words she talks slower and with more emphasis but her accent disappears. She slips back into it as she continues.
"He's a good sort. Little intense, ain't gonna have a career as a juggler but he cares 'bout people an' he's smart an' dedicated. I think ya turned his head an' he don' know what to do with hisself."
"Exactly," Kazimir nods. "To swear your life so completely to something... You can leave yourself a shell. I know I'd be much less without my faith." He absent-mindedly rubs his holy symbol. "It can be a blessing, to devote oneself wholly to a cause, or a lord, or a god. But it can also be a curse, knowing that without it, you'll lose everything."
He sighs deeply. "For better or worse, you're right. I can only hope that when we do meet again, he'll still be open to talk, rather than cutting me down where I stand."
Kaz is halfway through a parable about goats and daughters when Cyanne's voice rings suddenly in his ear, melodious as a bell and as audible as if she were sitting right next to him. He looks up in surprise, but dutifully closes his holy text and crosses to her and Rask, sitting on a rock and listening to the discussion.
He mulls over the offer, drumming his fingers on his thigh in a staccato rhythm, focusing on the fire. Eventually, he shrugs. "We have nothing to lose in such a deal. We're exploring these parts, and I'll probably stay on awhile after we find this temple. And I obviously can't speak for the Golushkin dwarves, but I know if someone provided me with details of a gold mine, I'd be most grateful to them." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "So. Let's talk business."
After the talk is done, he shrugs awkwardly at Cyanne, glancing off to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just not used to this. Two weeks ago, I was a farm boy - an honest soul, expected to amount to nothing more than self-sufficiency, a wife, and as many children as I could feed. I worked the fields, I prayed, I helped everyone I knew with whatever tasks they needed my muscle for. Now, here I am, fighting bandits, rescuing angelkin, and negotiating with dwarves over gold mines." He laughs in genuine amusement, shaking his head. "But, if this is the plan Deadeye has for me, then I'll go along with it. I've fought boars, I've scratched a faerie dragon's belly, and I've spoken with kobolds. Where on a farm can you get those kinds of memories?"
Kazimir watches the unfolding conversation between Cyanne and Daen with amazement, even as he tacks up Surefoot and gets the old horse ready for the day's ride. Suddenly, it makes sense, and he's ashamed to admit how wrong he was. He allows himself a small smile as he finishes packing his things. Well, good for them, he thinks. Everybody deserves somebody.
"That's very good!" Cyanne grins at Laliytsa's impersonation. "If monster-hunting ever loses its excitement for you, you could easily take to the stage. You're a better mimic than most of those who tread the boards at the New Stetvan Opera house."
She pauses. "When Daen introduced himself, he told me, 'I am the product of an undesired union of noble blood and a renegade.' When he told me that, I wondered if that was how he introduced himself to everyone. Is that, in his mind, the defining characteristic of who he is?"
She raises an eyebrow as she glances at Laliytsa. "He told me that he's forsworn from mentioning his family name, but I've danced before most of the noble houses in New Stetvan, back when I was a young dancer in the chorus of the Royal Ballet. Ears aside, Daen's the spitting image of what Noleski looked like as a boy. The hair, the Surtovan nose, that grim, unforgiving expression... Add 20 years, a paunch and a receding hairline, and he'd look remarkably like the current King. I wonder if that's the real reason they sent him out here." She shrugs. "I guess that doesn't really matter. What matters is he that Daen deserves a better way to define himself."
She smiles at the rest of Laliytsa's statements, until the blonde gets to the part about Cyanne turning Daen's head. "You think so? Maybe I did, and then he found out what I was. Men can be funny about angels. They get this idea about purity and goodness, and suddenly they become afraid to touch you."
Cyanne stirs the fire with a stick. "Thank you, by the way, for standing up for me. It's really nice having another woman friend." She pauses, and then asks, "How's Svetlana faring out here with Oleg?"
In any case, I'll be heading back to the Golushkin Mountains once I've got my wagon. I ain't being paid enough to tangle with bandits. Once it's all clear, though, perhaps there'll be another opportunity. I survey the land, then my cousins dig an exploratory, and after that, we can give an estimate on value.
If you find any surfaced veins of gold, write Elder Golka at Highdelve. That'd be all you need to address it as; only one Elder Golka. Mention me as surveyor, and I'll maybe throw in a little something, eh?"
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Daen waved at his new friend as she left and dove back into the river. The half elf didn't really know if he had broken her heart or she was just teasing him, although he suspected the latter. Although he was lucky if he got a good read of a female from his own culture. "Goodbye, Buvorarenlytiramest. Don't be afraid of visiting your fellow nixies soon. I'm sure they would be happy to see you. Don't worry, I'll remember you fondly, even when the magic runs out." He certainly would, because they both understood the desperation of loneliness. If he ever felt like running away from society forever, he could do worse in coming back to this pretty bend in the river.
Morning
Daen thoughtfully rubs his bare chin in thought about her sentiments about love. "I have to admit I've been surprised by it indeed. So it's more like swordplay than magic. Magic comes either naturally or through study, but swordplay must be experienced to be learned properly." He'll have to make a mental note of that.
"It's a fair exchange to ask for the same thing that one gives. But I'll satisfy your curiosity first, as is befitting for a gentleman to do so." Mother always said that the women should be satisfied before the men are, as it's easier for men to be satisfied. He'd always thought it was a fitting principle, although he'd rarely had opportunity to practice it. He'd always considered his mother to be fairly wise, perhaps it was a wisdom born from pain.
"Mention me as surveyor, and I'll maybe throw in a little something, eh?"
"Maybe?" Cyanne grins appreciatively at Rask, like they're two people who are sharing the same joke. "No, you'll do better than that, Rask." Her tone is gentle but firm. "Where there's one vein of gold, there's likely another, and you'll want us to pass you all your finds. It makes good business sense to keep us happy."
After they shake on the deal with the dwarf, she passes the notes she took to Kaz for his safekeeping. They're clean and neatly written in her most elegant school hand.
"But, if this is the plan Deadeye has for me, then I'll go along with it. I've fought boars, I've scratched a faerie dragon's belly, and I've spoken with kobolds. Where on a farm can you get those kinds of memories?"
"Where indeed? I'm envious of the four of you." Cyanne smiles. "Kazimir, for what it's worth, I think you're right where you belong. Would you mind if I chronicled some of your adventures? I'd love to turn some of them into songs."
Riding with her arms wrapped around him feels comfortable and right. Can it really be that she met him only yesterday? She realizes that she'll miss this when they return to the Fort, and she watches him and the others ride off to wherever they'll go next. When he defers to her, she thinks about protesting. Unlike him, she's a miller's child with no pretension to noble blood. But then she decides not to do so.
He needs to be a gentleman. He needs it like he needs to breathe. If he gets joy out of making you a lady, let him.
"Daen, something you told me has been bothering me. You've mentioned to me that your family has refused you their name, sent you away, and enlisted you on a mission where they hope you'll die or disappear." She can feel him stiffen as she says these words, and she instantly regrets them. But she has to ask this question. "Why then, do you allow them to define you? You're a gentleman whether they acknowledge you or not. You're doing great things here -- defeating bandits, fighting boars, negotiating with fey. We're not in Brevoy. Why not start anew and claim a new name for yourself, one that belongs only to you?"
Calm down, she's just repeating you he reminded himself. Perhaps it was still all too recent. Perhaps he was just generally unsettled due to the strange circumstances of late. He placed his hand gently on hers as it rested on his torso. "You make it sound easy, like perhaps we shall find and kill a dragon tomorrow or after lunch we should build an empire. I've found through my research that there are three kinds of names, indeed, two of them worth having. The first unworthy kind of name is one names himself. I could introduce myself as Daen 'the Razor' and explain to you that it is my name because I shave myself with my sword at full speed during my morning routine." He gives a contemptuous huff at such a thought, obviously pleased with the irony and absurdity of his example. "People would just laugh, or call me my given name behind my back if they feared me."
"The second type of name is one you are given, and the third one as well, but they differ. This second type of name is your family name. One that is given to you at birth. It is more than just what you are called. It is your culture, your mannerisms, your physical traits, your ties and your blood. This is the one taken from me, though my very self betrays the order of the king. All that needs to be said is that I have been disowned and the name is whispered all around. Even here outside of Brevoy it is done, and I cannot escape where I came from simply by disguising my name. Regardless of my will, this is a name I will carry onto my grave."
"The third name is also given, but it is given by reputation. Should I accomplish some great task, such as founding a new school of swordplay, or saving a city from great peril through personal sacrifice, or developing a vast trade empire and creating the most beautiful and extravagant estate within a thousand miles, that is how I will change my name. Killing boars and bandits is a suitable change of pace from the life I lived before, but it is not something the bards in Numeria would sing about. My aim is to accomplish such great deeds that the family that disowned me will instead be trading on my name. They will begin identifying themselves by me, and I will graciously let them, because a kindness returned for evil is a much harsher punishment than returning the same."
Putting both hands on the reins he clicked his tongue to encourage Volte to pull a tighter corner around the rocks he was weaving through to get a better return for his energy. Carrying two was difficult enough work, it wouldn't do for him to tire too quickly today. "So in a way, I am doing that. Just in my own way of course."
He paused with his speech as a courtesy to the listener, if she wished to ask questions or clarify something.
It has become pretty apparent that Daen has pre-written these little speeches, most likely word for word with a few adlibs that were likely also pre-written and probably rehearsed them either in private or in his own mind in his downtime. At times there were slight pauses as he was doing his best to remember every point he'd written, but tried to pass it off as thoughtfully considering the subject.
"I'm afraid my question may touch on a difficult topic for you, and so even after hearing it and having your own question answered, you may decline to answer without fear of repercussion." He patted her hand reassuringly. "You mentioned earlier that you were there when your mother passed on. My own mother passed while I was away for training, whether it was of her illness or foul play, I know not. Although I'm sure it was hard, are you now glad you were able to be there? Or do you wish that you would just remember her as she was before that time?"
The sun is setting behind the party as they ride into the open gates of Oleg’s Trading Post. Near the gate stands Kesten Garress, leaning against the guest-house door. His armor’s off, and he’s chatting with the blonde guardswoman, Mirjam. The other two guards face each other over one of the trestle tables; between them lies a deck of cards, with most of the deck stacked haphazardly on top of itself face-up in a rough pile. Kesten breaks off his conversation as the party begins dismounting, speaking a language that’s both harsh and rhythmic.
He walks over, kneeling and placing a closed fist on his forehead before the dwarf. This greeting done, he stands again and faces the party, an expression of some relief on his face. ”It’s good to see your faces again. We saw a band of riders, oh, three days ago. Maybe four. Looked like bandits. Mirjam here saw them first, and she was all ready to go out after them, but cooler heads prevailed. That many riders against four on foot, with bandit prisoners in the fort? We couldn’t have done anything but die. We were worried they’d run into you, though.”
A moment or two later, Jhod’s hand claps Kazimir on the back. ”Well, lad? Did you find it?” From behind the man’s cassock, Hanne Lorris glances at the party before staring awkwardly at Cyanne. After perhaps a dozen seconds, he pulls his gaze away and flees for the pavilion tent with Erastil’s bow hanging over it. Jhod laughs. ”Ha! The boy’s got a good eye.”
Oleg steps out of the house, taking in the expanded party. ”Not more? We have no more room, you’ll simply have to make do with grass and tents. I swear, when my ‘Lana gets back, I’ll have a good talk with her. This is what comes of asking for help.” He cuts off as he sees Cyanne, and his annoyed face drops into a sullen almost-glare, then into a simply worried expression. ”No. No no no. This isn’t happening. Not right now. She’s not here. I sent her to Restov a handful of days ago with some things to sell. You’d best go back there, too. The Narlmarch and the Kamelands are no place for a delicate girl like yourself.”
Cyanne likes the feel of his hand on hers, and she does not pull away. Instead, she gives it an encouraging squeeze. She listens as he speaks, wanting to understand him and his powerful thirst for recognition.
So what if his speech was rehearsed? People are made of stories -- the ones that they tell themselves as well as the ones that they act out for the world. When he speaks of bards in Numeria singing his name, she thinks, This is something I could give him. I could make songs that will spread his name far and wide.
When he pauses with his speech, Cyanne hugs him tight. "You'll achieve great things, Daen. I'm honored to know you, whatever name you carry."
As he asks his question about her mother, she pauses to think a bit. "I was dancing at the Bounce Theatre in New Stetvan when my family sent for me. My career may not have been the most glamorous, but I'd made a name for myself. When I got the summons, I wasn't sure I should come. My family and I had grown apart, and they were aging so quickly while I... I looked almost exactly as I do now. Part of me did not want to go back. But then I thought to myself, Will you regret not going, for the rest of your very long life?"
"I quit my job. I came to Restov, auditioned for new work at the Restive Rose, and spent every morning with my mother and my siblings. I learned who they were now -- grandparents all -- and they learned who I am. We became close, for the first time since I was an infant. I would not trade one moment of the time that I spent with them."
"But... after mother died, I felt so lost. It was as if I was suddenly that little girl again, abandoned by her parents and yearning with all my heart to see them again. Then Svetlana's letter came, and I thought... why not go see her again while we're both still young? So I took my leave from the Rose, and set out to see her."
She smiles, looking out at the group traveling with her, and says, "I'm glad that I did, Daen. I met all of you because of it."
The post is primitive, but looks more solid than she'd expected from Lana's letters. This will be a small place to live for the next few months. Especially after 'Lana's baby comes.
Still, she promised herself that she'd make the best of it.
Cyanne grins when she sees Oleg, and she hugs the grumpy man while he stands there, sullenly glaring at her. "Oh don't be silly, Oleg! If Lana can handle it out here, so can I. You know you're glad to see me! This will be great -- just like old times!"
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""When Daen introduced himself, he told me, 'I am the product of an undesired union of noble blood and a renegade.' When he told me that, I wondered if that was how he introduced himself to everyone. Is that, in his mind, the defining characteristic of who he is?""
“I think so” Laliytsa puffs out a long breath that blows a curl off her face. “I gotta bit of experience with nobility; they get magical infestations just like us commoners. Mosta ‘em, they either treat me like Ima lesser creature or like I ain’t even there. Can’t imagine how they treat one of their own they think is lesser.”
She smiles at the rest of Laliytsa's statements, until the blonde gets to the part about Cyanne turning Daen's head. "You think so? Maybe I did, and then he found out what I was. Men can be funny about angels. They get this idea about purity and goodness, and suddenly they become afraid to touch you."
”Don’ think that’s it exactly. He’s made some jokes ‘bout how his family don’ like him an’ he gets real touchy when people poke at the half-blood part of him. Think he carries it ‘round his neck like a stone. Needs to cut that cord ‘fore it drags him down but he’s gotta figure out how to do that himself. “
“Me though, I don’ care if yer mother was a goblin. Only thing matters is who ya are an how you treats others.”
Cyanne stirs the fire with a stick. "Thank you, by the way, for standing up for me. It's really nice having another woman friend." She pauses, and then asks,"How's Svetlana faring out here with Oleg?"
”Anytime” Laliytsa smirks. ”Grew up with all boy so I know how to pummel ‘em pretty well. I think Svetlana’s doin’ well. She really cares ‘bout Oleg. She had us pick up moonradishes for soup to cheer him up. Ain’t an easy life out here but it can be a good one. I’m hoping we get all the bandits taken care of ‘fore she gives birth.”
”That’s why we’re trainin’ her up ‘fore we take her back out.” Laliytsa nods in greeting to Oleg. It hasn’t escaped her notice that Cyanne makes the men fall over themselves while she herself does not. She finds it amusing. Really, she’s just too much woman for most men to handle anyways. ”I’m gonna get unpacked ‘n cleaned up. We can do bow practice later. Yeh lot can join if ya want” She waves at the Free Irregulars.
The extra tight hug was exquisite. For a minute he just enjoyed her softness and heat and his normally busy mind was simply quiet. The wind picked up and the leaves applauded while the grasses and scrub waved their approval. He'd never been so sublimely happy that he could remember, he didn't want to think about when the other shoe might drop. It always did seem to do it, right at the height of his happiness, but he wasn't about to not enjoy the next few hours. "Then I will take that faith as my token and go and do great deeds."
Daen thought about the situation that she went through. It was a fair bit different. Had he known his mother was dying or dead, he would have gone there immediately, there wouldn't have been a choice. But for Cyanne, there was a choice. She chose to do the right thing and had no regrets. But for Daen there could be no regrets either, because he knew that if he had known, he would have made the right choice as well. As it was, he knew for whatever reason, they kept the information from him on purpose, and he would remember that as long as he remembered his mother.
"Thank you, I believe your story gave me some clarity on my situation. I appreciate your candor." From there they lapsed into a easy sublime silence as they enjoyed being next to each other on the road. Daen tried not to think of how they'd part once they got back to the fort, but the idea eventually crept into his mind. It soured his attitude somewhat, but that was to be expected. He just wanted to hold on to this moment as long as he could.
---------------------
Oleg's
When they arrived at the fort, Daen's face had returned to normal. He was not looking forward to saying goodbye, but business was business, and excited burgeoning lovers have had to part since before antiquity. So it was time to see what they had to do in order to make their mission a success, and quickly. When they arrived, Daen did make his request to the group before the left to do whatever it was they wanted to most.
"Let's meet back here at evening around the fire pit to do some planning for the future. We still have a lot of land to cover, as well as some leads for important locations we will have to be sure to visit soon."
Turning to the dwarf and Leped, Daen spoke to them as well. "Which direction does your wagon sit from this place? If it isn't far, we can escort you there promptly, otherwise it may have to wait until morning."
As different conversations break out around camp and the party starts unsaddling their horses, the sun's bottom curve touches the treetops of the Narlmarches. A pair of raggedly-dressed men that Daen, Laliytsa, and Kazimir recognize as the captured bandits sit around a roaring fire, cooking bits of venison skewered on sticks.
"'Lana just 'bout didn't handle it out here. She cried herself to sleep for a month. Packed her bags three times, too." Oleg turns away and spits on the ground. "You'll be gone in a week. Two tops, and you'll try to take her with you. I know you will." He clomps back over to the house, nodding briefly at Laliytsa as he steps back inside.
Mirjam, the platinum-blonde woman who'd been chatting with Kesten, shakes her head at Laliytsa's request. "Been learning sword-and-bucker, and longspear. I'll stick with what I know, thanks." The dark-haired man also shakes his, though it's with a smile as he pockets his winnings from whatever card game the two were playing, but the old bald man stands and walks to Laliytsa. "I think we were introduced. Johann. I'm not as tough as I used to be, but plinking away with a bow'd let me be useful, and maybe keep my granddaughter safe." Mirjam blushes a deep red and turns away quickly, climbing a ladder for the narrow walkway along the wall.
Leped shrugs. "I vas not en charge of navigation, and have no idea where any of this es." The dwarf looks at Daen. "I think we were a half-day from Oleg's when we got hit. Couldn't see it, and the bandits camped that night before we got in viewing range of this fort. I'll be fine on the road with just Leped, and we do want to get an early start tomorrow. You might just slow us up."
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Kaz is about to nod in agreement to the percentage, when Cyanne interjects with a firm tone. He's left blinking at her in surprise, before tearing his gaze away, back to the dwarf. Well, I'll have to consult her before making any more deals, he thinks in admiration. Never had the head for this kind of thing, no shame in admitting it.
"Pleasure doing business, Rask," he smiles, shaking on the deal. "Should we find anything, we'll write to Elder Golka, and be sure to mention you as surveyor." He takes Cyanne's notes, folding them and tucking them inside the pages of his dog-eared holy text.
"Songs?" he asks, just to make sure he's heard her properly. "Well, I... Are you sure? I mean, there's plenty more exciting things happening in the world, but..." He stares at the ground, his hand returning to the back of his neck. "I mean, if that's what you want to do, go ahead," he smiles, finally tearing his eyes from the dirt. "Just... Just don't talk me up too much, alright? There seems to be a lot of that going on lately."
The sight of the outpost fills Kazimir with joy - after the time in the wilds, here again was civilisation, or as close as it got in these parts. He dismounts as he approaches, tying Surefoot off outside, assuming there'd still be no room in the stables with the flurry of activity.
"Riders?" he asks Kesten, shaking the older man's hand in greeting. "Did you get a good look at them? Was one of them older, with silver hair, by chance?" No harm in asking, he figures - it would be good to know whether Akiros had been about. "Any word from Restov? We've discovered a little more about the surrounds, as well," he adds, remembering the man's frustration at the outdated map.
He starts at Jhod's hand on his back, before turning to face the ageing priest, a smile on his face. "Not yet, but I have a good idea where it is. Would you believe me if I told you I heard it from a dragon?" He watches with one eyebrow raised as Hanne gawps openly at Cyanne, chuckling as the boy flees. "A good eye, indeed. Cyanne's a lovely woman, with a heavenly voice." He doesn't even register his own pun.
After a few minutes, he follows after Oleg, perhaps against his better judgement. "Oleg? I'd like to inquire about a purchase, if possible." After a moment, he adds, "And... I believe Cyanne may be joining us. She managed to orchestrate her own escape from bandits, and has already proved useful. She'll be safe with us... And it would stop her from putting any ideas in your wife's head."
Cyanne listens carefully to Laliytsa's commentary about Daen, nobles and Svetlana and Oleg's relationship, only startling when Laliytsa mentions Svetlana's baby. "Lana told you about the baby? Do you know if she's told Oleg?"
"Training me up to take me back out later?" Cyanne repeats Laliytsa's words, hoping against hope that they mean what she thinks they do. "Laliytsa... does this mean you want me to come with you when you go?"
A few minutes later, Cyanne allows Laliytsa to lead her away before she loses her temper at Oleg.
"As if I would run, or try to steal Lana from him! Is he really so insecure?" She helps Laliytsa unpack and take care of the horses, and then says quietly, "I can help with cleanup, too, if you want."
Cyanne helps clean, first the horses equipment, and then both herself and Laliytsa, magically whisking away dirt and grime. Grabbing her bow, she says, "I'll happily practice with you. Maybe if I blow off steam on imaginary targets, I won't be tempted to fire one of these at Oleg's head."
“Yep. He knows. Gave us a speech about how he ain’t havin’ his kid raised ‘round bandits so we best do our job. Man’s gonna be like a hen with one egg.”
"Training me up to take me back out later?" Cyanne repeats Laliytsa's words, hoping against hope that they mean what she thinks they do."Laliytsa... does this mean you want me to come with you when you go?"
Laliytsa quirks an eyebrow. ”Well, yeah. Ain’t gonna get rid of bandits sittin’ ‘round here.” She turns to the older man. ”Johann. Lemme get the horse put ‘way first an’ then we can start.” She clucks at Wild and he moves into a walk. Over her shoulder she yells. ” Hey, Kesten, ya should practice with us, mebbe ya’d learn somethin’ “ There’s a small grin on her face as she enters the stables.
Once in the stables she works quietly. Laliytsa nods in response to Cyrelle but otherwise lets the other woman vent. The magical cleaning does make her pause and look herself over. This spell seems very, very useful. The ranger grabs her bow, quiver and one of her saddlebags before heading back outside. ”Gimme a minute.” she says then heads into the house.
She’s interrupted some conversation between Oleg and Kaz. For a moment she hesitates. It’s not polite to barge into someone’s house without knocking. If her grandmother could see her now she’d be strangling Laliytsa with her bare hands. The tracker blushes slightly and shoves her bag at Oleg. ” Here. Svetlana asked us to get these. Give ‘em to her when she gets back?”
Rikka at first gave the offered had a dismissive glare, though Cyannes words quickly made her demeanor change. With a curious head tilt, she looked Cyanne in the eyes, before leaping into her hand, running down her arm and circling her body three times in quick succession. Ending at Tangos side, she enthusiastically sniffed him and Cyanne both, squeaking loudly.
Cyanne laughs as the other mongoose circles her, pleased that Tango isn't the jealous sort. She can feel an odd mix of emotions from Tango over the empathic link -- watchfulness, curiosity, and a rising excitement. When Rikka starts sniffing Tango, Tango sniffs back and then chitters contentedly. "I'm glad you two approve of each other, now."
"Well, Rikka seems to approve of you, and of the two of us, she's the least trusting." In reply to an insisting squeak from Rikka, he extended a hand for her to clamber back to her perch, now that her inspection was complete. "She is indeed one who dares, as am I, when I need to be." He added in elvish, a hand offered in greeting.
So he was from the academy! "I can see that she's a lady of discerning tastes." She grins at him and takes the hand he offers. "Meeting a fellow member of the 'Order of the Mongoose,'" she says, naming Aron's silly nickname for academy graduates, "is an unexpected pleasure."
Luthor nodded with a smile. "Likewise. To be honest there was a good chance she would see a rival more than a friend, but looks like we got lucky." At this, Rikka punched him in the chin, then crossed her arms and turned away indignant. Luthor simply laughed. "Hey now, you and me both know im not lying." He reached up a hand to pet her, which she accepted, though she remained stoically offended. "I dont have to remind you about Archibald, do I?" At the mention of the name, Rikka stood up straight, then turned and started furiously squeaking, wagging an accusing finger in his face.
Halfway ignoring her, he looked at Cyanne. "You compliment another familiar ONE time..." He looked Rikka in the eyes, adding. "Jealousy isnt flattering on anyone Rikka, you included." This seemed to take the wind out of whatever Rikka had been arguing. Instead she simply crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at Cyanne and Tango in what could only translate as "Can you believe this guy?"
As they shook hands and Cyanne mentioned the Order of the Mongoose, he laughed out loud. "Oh Gods, dont remind me." He continued to chuckle uncontrollably, wiping an errant tear from the corner of one eye. "I always thought of it as a name for some knightly order that noone could take seriously." Rikka did not react, likely because she had heard it many times before. Luthor looked at Tango, still smiling. "Not that you couldnt take a mongoose seriously, lords know I do every day." He motioned towards Rikka with his head, then added. "A mongoose is quick, loyal, resourceful, and a whole mess of other virtues besides. But theres just something about a mongoose and a knightly order named after them that cracks me up all the same."
As they reached the trading post, it took Luthor several long moments to realize it, engrossed in one of his book as he was. "Oh? Were here? Splendid." He said, dismounting with some effort and stretching. Luthor wasnt normally the most observant type, but even he had been hard pressed to ignore all the hushed talk and private conversations that had been going on around him ever since Cyanne had joined them. "If I was supposed to be involved in any of it, I would be. Far be it from me to pry." He had thought to himself, instead delving into his satchel of reading material and spending time with Rikka as they travelled. Once he had realized that Rikka might be closing in on gleaning some new spells from whatever entity had bestowed the ones he already possessed, he had been more or less completely absent mentally.
While Laliytsa ran back on her errand, Cyanne takes a moment to talk with Luthor, bow still slung over her shoulder. As she does, Tango initiates a game of tag and leaping with Rikka. Cyanne isn't sure what the rules of the game are, but it seems to involve much indignant squeaking.
"Luthor... I wanted to apologize for how snippy I was yesterday. When you revealed my heritage. You're very clever to have figured it out right away -- but I should expect clever from one of Aron's students." She smiles and holds out her hand to him. "Besides, Lirpeth always told me that I shouldn't hide. 'Cyanne, own what you are. Announce it to the world and stand proud!' Only... sometimes it's hard to take her advice. Sometimes its easier just to pass and pretend I'm human along with everyone else." She sighs. "I'm blathering. It's good that you told them. Now they know, and I know that I can trust them."
She gives him a hug. "Thank you."
As she's about to go off to archery practice, she pauses once again.
"Luthor, may I call upon your aid as a fellow member of the Order of the Mongoose? Tonight or tomorrow morning before we leave, I'd like to clean things up a bit as a surprise for Svetlana, so she doesn't come back to an enormous mound of laundry the minute she gets back." She grins. "I know you must know prestidigitation... It's Aron's favorite spell. Will you help me? You can tell me about yourself, or catch me up with Aron's most recent obsessions. That elf always has some new project going on!"
She then follows Laliytsa and the others for target practice. At the blonde's signal, she takes a few tentative shots.
She's not the best archer, but Laliytsa said she was training her up... Maybe the ranger would show her some tricks to improve her aim.
In the house, Kazimir encounters a very anxious-looking Oleg. his forehead is wrinkled and his shoulders shake as he sits heavily in his chair. Nevertheless, he seems to pull himself together, taking a deep breath and fumbling around with a ledger and quill. "Uh, yes. A purchase. Something we might have here, or would it be a special order? I can get anything Restov might have, but it'd be a couple weeks before it got...here..."
He trails off as Laliytsa pokes her head in, accepting the bag and setting it to the side absent-mindedly. He waits until she's left to continue, and when he does, he continues haltingly. "Now. Listen. I don't have much out here. My 'Lana and that blue-haired girl were close friends. Back in Restov. It's been a couple of years since they've talked, I think, but I know they keep in touch. Letters. I can't lose my 'Lana, but that girl's going to tempt her to go back, I know it. The less time she spends here, the better it'll be for me and Svetlana. Thanks. Thanks for keeping her out of my business as much as you can." Oleg offers a weak and an even less heartfelt joke. "If you could take that priest and his boy, and maybe a couple of Kesten's men, that'd be great too. Okay, your purchase?"
Outside, Laliytsa takes Cyanne and Johann out around the back of the trading post, where a low berm runs for perhaps fifty yards before dipping back to the surrounding meadow's level. Johann proves to be just about as competent (or otherwise) as Cyanne, his arrows forming a looser pattern, but his best being more accurate. After a while, darkness sets in and it's too difficult to place shots anymore.
Kesten walks over to the fire, where the two bandit prisoners are just finishing their meal, and fishes out a brand from within. He quickly lights a lantern, sets it on one of the tables, and unfurls three large rolls of parchment. "It's been slow here, so I'm keeping records. This first one's an old map, but the borders of the forest don't look accurate. I'm using it as a base reference. This second one-" He points at a nearly blank bit of parchment with only a small building marked in near the center "-is going to be the updated version. I'll include landmarks, of course, and also things you found interesting. The final sheet is a rough set of notes. What you found, what you fought, that kind of thing. I'll also keep track of where you were planning to go." He pauses, moving the lantern closer to his stack of parchment, and the two off-duty guards walk over and sit at the other table, across the fire. "Now, let's hear it."
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Kazimir carefully takes a seat opposite Oleg, leaning his forearms on the table. He's about to speak again when Laliytsa enters, carrying a bag of something, and blushing. He raises an eyebrow at her lifts one hand in a small wave, and watches her go with a smile, before turning his gaze back to the older man.
"Oleg," he says slowly and carefully, ready to change tracks at any moment, "I understand why you might be concerned that Svetlana would leave with Cyanne. However, you need to have faith in her. She's stayed with you this long, why would she leave now?" Taking a deep breath, he continues on. "Cyanne managed to orchestrate her own escape from bandits, and she's proven herself quite capable. She also seems rather taken with Daen, and Laliytsa seems glad to have another woman around. I highly suspect she'll be staying with us when we head out again." He takes a deep breath, adding, "And if she doesn't, perhaps I can talk to Svetlana. If she's unhappy here, then perhaps you both need to make some choices. It never does well for a marriage to stew in animosity and discomfort."
The weak joke brings a sad smile from him. "Unfortunately, them I can't do much about. Jhod has a mission; he's here because Deadeye called him, as am I. Kesten and his men, they're here on their own business as well." He sighs, glancing down at his hands, aware of how foolish his request will sound. "As for the purchase... I was wondering whether you had leather-working tools. I've been looking for ways to keep myself occupied on the road,m and there's only so many ways one can read the same holy text." He smiles weakly. "I don't know whether you'd have them, or need to bring them in, but... well, there's no shame in asking, is there?"
Laliytsa is new at teaching others and it shows. Aiming and releasing the string when it 'feels right' may work for her but it's obviously not going to work for anyone else. It's a relief when the darkness brings a halt to the practice. She glumly thinks that working with her horse will be a better plan for tomorrow than teaching again.
She stashes her weapons before joining the group by the fire. "Ya have any charcol or somethin'? I can draw corrections on the old map an' ya can copy 'em onto the fancy new one."
Cyanne could have kept shooting as darkness fell, but she didn't like to draw attention to her differences if she didn't have to do so. Laliytsa was a good teacher, though she could feel the blonde getting more and more frustrated as the lesson progressed. So she followed Laliytsa inside, and joined her and the others around the map.
Having decided to chronicle the party's adventures, she listens intently to the discussion of where the party's been before, chiming in some of the few details she'd remembered from the past few days. "No, that bend is where we passed the waterfall... remember?"
After a bit she sees Oleg in the corner. Not knowing about Kaz's diplomatic conversation, she gets up to talk to the trading post manager herself. She's calmer now that she's spent a couple hours firing arrows and letting off steam. He's really terrified of losing her, the poor man. But if he keeps clinging to her like this, he'll just strain their relationship more than it already is.
"Oleg, I've never seen anyone love a man like 'Lana loves you." She's speaking quietly, but she knows that Oleg needs to hear this. "'She gave up her goddess, her work, and everything and everyone she knows just to follow you out here. I couldn't take her from you. No one could."
"Her wanting to have another friend nearby... that's not a rejection of you. She's a woman, she'll want to have other women to talk to from time to time -- particularly with a baby on the way. She's a very social person." Cyanne pauses, letting her words sink in. "The best way to pay back such devotion is with trust. Believe in her, like she believes in you."
Then Cyanne returns to the table, sitting quietly between Luthor and Daen. She smiles as she watches Tango yawn, curling up next to Rikka. She leans her head on Daen's shoulder and listens as the map discussion finishes.
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Daen didn't contribute much to the mapping as they discussed it. He had realized that he had no real sense of direction, having been cooped up in one house for much of his childhood, it had never developed. Perhaps someday he'd get there, but until then, he wouldn't be heavily involved with map making. The one thing they did trust him on was planning missions. It wasn't difficult to plot a course, and he was reasonably pleased with their progress, especially since they had so many interruptions to their surveying.
One interesting development that seemed to happen without him noticing was that Cyanne had worked out a way to convince the others that she was coming along. This didn't really bother Daen that much, as he was looking forward to having her closer to him even during the trip, and she seemed more than capable in the hostage situation, thinking well on her feet and using her magic to good effect. The only thing worrisome is that he didn't see it coming, and he'd have to work on anticipating things like this in the future so he wouldn't be caught unawares.
"There are three major regions that would be reasonable to explore next. The area to the north west, the grasslands to the southeast, and the forest north of the second river. I'd like to take the North east and finish it first, as most of our interest lies to the south, getting it out of the way so we won't have to deal with it later is not a bad plan." He had squirreled away a thin branch from the forest that he used to point out the regions on the map as he spoke about them without moving his shoulder very much, as he was pretty keen on not upsetting the head that rested on it.
"If we desire to take the regions in a different order, that is easily enough arranged, but after doing these particular areas we will have to make longer trips. The north east and southwest should take seven days each, and the forest would be eight, possibly nine."
Oleg, sitting in his corner away from the group, doesn't give any real sign that he's even heard the Aasimar girl's words, but he also doesn't say anything back to her. After a bit, he stands and walks out of the gate, taking a lantern with him.
Kesten looks at Laliytsa and fishes around in a satchel, producing a bit of charcoal wrapped carefully in terry-cloth. As he watches the ranger work, his pen fills in his own sheet of parchment, producing much more elegant lines than her rough sketching. After they're done, he looks at their handiwork and nods slowly. "Well, it's nothing fancy, but your descriptions are a damn sight better than that old map."
Kesten stares at the map, following the branch with his eyes as Daen points out the routes he'd like to take. "I see. Hmmmm. You seem to have a strong sense of where you want to go next. If I could make a suggestion, though? The South Rostland Road runs north just after Oleg's, but it passes through part of the region you'd like to explore with the northeast route. I think Dame Sarrona sponsored some settlers to set up villages along the border, five or six years ago. She's had her eyes on expanding House Lebeda's lands and influence for a while; father hated her. You probably don't need to explore that region, or the one with the road running through it."
He gestures at Daen, asking for the stick. "If you went along the same path heading out, but turned south instead of north, you'd probably be less disappointed. Of course, if you really want to visit some poor farmers in wheat country that's flatter than a gnome's behind, I won't stop you. Begging the ladies' pardon." He hands the stick back to the half-elf and resumes working on the new map, filling in small details by lamp-light.
He stands, walking out the door and over to the little stockroom in the house. There, he roots through piles of miscellaneous odds and ends, coming up with a simple leather roll. "Got a basic punch, sheers, small knives, a thick steel needle, and a mallet. That'll let you do basic work. There's better punches and different-sized sheers, and some other measuring equipment, but we'd have to order that from Restov. This'll run you five Dragons (5 gold coins), and the good stuff'll cost 50, plus the waiting while we order it."
While Laliytsa ran back on her errand, Cyanne takes a moment to talk with Luthor, bow still slung over her shoulder. As she does, Tango initiates a game of tag and leaping with Rikka. Cyanne isn't sure what the rules of the game are, but it seems to involve much indignant squeaking.
"Luthor... I wanted to apologize for how snippy I was yesterday. When you revealed my heritage. You're very clever to have figured it out right away -- but I should expect clever from one of Aron's students." She smiles and holds out her hand to him.
Luthor immediately became engrossed in spectating as the two familiars started their game. He couldnt remember Rikka ever having the chance to play like this since leaving the academy. It took him a few long moments to realize that Cyanne had been talking to him, and not simply enjoying the spectacle with him.
"Hmm?" He said absentmindedly, stealing a sideways glance at her. Noticing she was looking right at him, his eyes went big with realization. "Oh! Uhm...What? Im sorry, I dont think I was listening." He looked decidedly embarrassed as he asked her to repeat what she had said.
"Snippy? Really?" He said with a bemused look. He started laughing softly, little more than a chuckle. "Oh I wouldnt worry about that Cyanne. I mean, im not exactly socially observant most of the time, but even so, if I didnt catch the "Snippiness", I think you are just making mountains out of mole hills."
He took her hand with a sly smile. "As for being clever, I guess I shall have to concede to that."
"Besides, Lirpeth always told me that I shouldn't hide. 'Cyanne, own what you are. Announce it to the world and stand proud!' Only... sometimes it's hard to take her advice. Sometimes its easier just to pass and pretend I'm human along with everyone else." She sighs. "I'm blathering. It's good that you told them. Now they know, and I know that I can trust them."
She gives him a hug. "Thank you."
"Lirpeth isnt wrong." Luthor agreed with a sagely nod. "I had problems just like you when I first arrived there, though mine have since been taken care of. But ive known your plight." For the first time he looked glum, almost dire, staring at Cyanne but looking right through her. "Before I got Rikka, there was no rhyme or reason, or even timing to when spells would just randomly decide to go off. Im just thankful none of them were capable of bodily harm." He shrugged it off, looking present again and smiling once more. "But atleast I can let the past be just that."
As Cyanne went in for the hug, he looked slightly surprised. "Oh, are we....ok." He said awkwardly, before accepting and reciprocating with a warm smile. "We are going to get along splendidly I think."
As she's about to go off to archery practice, she pauses once again.
"Luthor, may I call upon your aid as a fellow member of the Order of the Mongoose? Tonight or tomorrow morning before we leave, I'd like to clean things up a bit as a surprise for Svetlana, so she doesn't come back to an enormous mound of laundry the minute she gets back." She grins. "I know you must know prestidigitation... It's Aron's favorite spell. Will you help me? You can tell me about yourself, or catch me up with Aron's most recent obsessions. That elf always has some new project going on!"
"Certainly!" Luthor said excitedly, waving a finger at Rikka with a few murmured words, her fur shedding all the dust and dirt she had just acquired in her tumble game with Tango. "How would I ever have gotten through the mandatory cleaning on Sundays without it?" He chuckled, firing off a few repeat casts at himself and Cyanne. "Just name the time, and ill see about remembering something good about Aron."
Nodding gravely to the news of settlers in the area, Daen inwardly chided himself for not realizing it earlier. He would do some study along the line so he wouldn't be making useless suggestions. "Let's take the Garess proposal as there isn't any gain in the more northern route. So, unless there is dissent, we'll take the northwest route, then explore the forest, then the grasslands. Prepare your supplies for the week, and we'll be ready to leave when Svetlana arrives."
A new thought hit him, and he leans forward slightly. "Or, we could possibly save a half day if we ride out to meet Svetlana on the road and do the grassland first. That is also a valid option." He looks a bit excited about this new discovery, even though it's a slight increase in efficiency, the idea also has merit. He didn't like the idea of just sitting around for the next day, expecting Svetlana in the evening. This way they'd keep busy in a more profitable way.
"Laliytsa invited me to come out with you when you ride again. I'd like to, but I'm pretty sure you haven't had a chance to discuss the matter together. Do you need me to go elsewhere while you talk?"
Cyanne pauses, to allow the others a chance to respond.
After they do, she says, "I can't wait to see 'Lana again." She gets up, touching Daen lightly on the shoulder before stepping away. "If the plan is to ride out to meet her in the morning, Luthor and I better get going on our project. We want to put together a surprise for her." She looks meaningfully over at the camp's washhouse, already piled high with stuff to be washed. Without magic, laundry was an unpleasant all day affair that involved carting water, boiling it and scrubbing until your hands were raw. With magic... it was trivial. She turns to Laliytsa. "In the morning, can you find a sprig of a pretty aromatic plant -- something non-poisonous -- that we can lay on top of the folded laundry pile when we're done? 'Lana and I always brought flowers for each other when we visited. It's the wrong time of the year for blooms, but a bough of evergreen might be nice, and I have some ribbon to tie it with."
"Oh, and if anyone else has something that needs cleaning, I'll do it for you if you'll help us fold sheets for 'Lana's surprise." Her eyes include not only the group, but the guardsmen, priests and Oleg if he's there.
Luthor followed the map planning with big, interested eyes, nodding every so often as a suggestion or point was made. There was no doubt that he was a terribly clever man by most estimates, but he didnt have much of a head for these things. Sure, he could see the logic in everyones reasoning for their ideas, but when it came to making actual suggestions of his own he was stumped. "I even got lost trying to get here, I mean, really." He thought, smiling to himself at his own embarrassment.
Relishing the chance to be useful, he leapt to his feet as Cyanne reminded him of what he had promised. "Yes, lets get to it!" He said with a bit too much excitement. "Its not going to clean itself after all, and if it is, ill want to be there to see it!" He added as he strode off. "That was a good one wasnt it?" His voice drifted over his shoulder, followed by Rikkas odd, squeaky imitation of laughter.