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"Propose that this is important to me. Propose that wreckage and bloody Demon God illustrations in Temple are likewise."
[...]"Ave got 'e seal, weh shuddna 'ave et en 'e sam' placeh as thot theng. Whot's moare emportant ta ye? One bahd magik it'm, or 'e seal, Ameiko, an' 'er people? She asks, not judging, nor even trying to talk him out of taking the statue if that's what he really wants to do, but trying to make him understand that she thinks it's a really bad idea to have it along [...]
Hrithik's jaw is set hard. "Could survive Court banquet, weaving arguments so. If not safe to keep Thing anywhere in Caravan, not even six wagons off in lead chest filled with holy water, you win. Cannot allow into Caravan. Obviously less important than Amatatsu Seal, Empress, and Minkai People."
Hrithik's pupils flit over some fresh atrocity, and he winces. "If that is as must be, I responsible to Vow, research, and return. Not safe have loose. Here on Vault floor it remain if someone in party not claim."
Hrithik gazes toward Liothonae's location, unable to make out her exact spot. "If believe curse must remain in castle, important other taint goes. Blood art in Temple, desecration, child body, corby bodies, all cleansed and respected. Statue stays right here, other taint goes. Agree?"
Hrithik also wants to trust Liothonae on this, since she is so adamant where she normally is not, but he wants to be sure she is this certain of her assertions of its danger and not just pressuring him for some other concern about it.
Perception:
Sense Motive (hunch or Bluff-oppose on Lio, as needed): , why is Lio so insistent Hrithik not take it?
Hrithik's jaw is set hard. "Could survive Court banquet, weaving arguments so. If not safe to keep Thing anywhere in Caravan, not even six wagons off in lead chest filled with holy water, you win. Cannot allow into Caravan. Obviously less important than Amatatsu Seal, Empress, and Minkai People."Hrithik's pupils flit over some fresh atrocity, and he winces. "If that is as must be, I responsible to Vow, research, and return. Not safe have loose. Here on Vault floor it remain if someone in party not claim."
Hrithik gazes toward Liothonae's location, unable to make out her exact spot. "If believe curse must remain in castle, important other taint goes. Blood art in Temple, desecration, child body, corby bodies, all cleansed and respected. Statue stays right here, other taint goes. Agree?"
** spoiler omitted **...
She's right in front of him, close enough to touch if he were to reach out. She does not seem to take offense at his comment in regards to the strength of her argument, though perhaps at a different time she might have. When he looks distressed, the sympathy in her eyes slips through the mask of indifference she was unsuccessfully trying to put into place. Ahgrea." She says softly.
Translated: "Father wants to bathe lady friend. Talk later with much to say."
Translated: "We can talk later about many things."
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Hrithik happily and joyfully moves through a series of kisses, caresses, and efforts to disrobe portions of Liothonae well clear of the "Love" definition. It is quite evident he won't be going there until consent is clearly granted, but will provide a great deal of adventure and joy in the meantime..
Translation: "Back to the caravan. Back to your daughter."
Mel steps out from between the buildings, tinged a jade green, and continues to head back to the caravan.
** spoiler omitted **
The blood that covers him does not deter, nor seem to bother Liothonae. As he takes off pieces of her clean new leather armor, her own ruined shirt, shredded in places across her midriff and covered in dried blood is revealed. Through the holes of the shirt, a latticework of scars are revealed in glimpses. Lio doesn't seem to notice the state of her clothing. Instead, with her clever fingers, she removes his armor in turn. Never saying anything, just returning his kisses, gently caressing him. Her tongue and lips exploring his mouth, hands caressing his face, fingers drawing through his hair, learning from how he touches her, she copies those things that give her the greatest pleasure, to see how he reacts to them.
Eventually, when she thinks she cannot take anymore of this teasing, she pulls away, although wanting more. "Implied." She whispers with a nearly broken voice. "Consent, implied."
She kisses him again, her hands much more firmly moving down his back, coming around to the front and moving up his chest, along his neck and back to his face, to draw him close to her as they continue...
Alaric follows shortly, a wry grin on his face: "That's because you never watched any sports. Although... that might actually have the opposite effect on you."
"Sports?" sounding surprised.
** spoiler omitted **
Her expression pretty clearly shows that she is ambivalent as long as Hrithik doesn't take it (because she does not want to see him cursed); Lio doesn't seem to have a problem with someone else picking it up, as long as she thinks they are not going to harm the group.
Alaric coughs, moving his shield in front of his body somewhat awkwardly with a glare at Mel.
"Well, in Galt, fencing is fairly popular among the aristocracy. Of course a bigger hobby among the aristocracy is getting beheaded... which leads to a local variant on football, which... which isn't fun. At all."
He thinks. "Let's see. In Andoran, I really enjoyed wife-carrying. I was surprised to learn that it didn't have to be my wife, although the lady in question did have to be married. I participated one time, only the one lady who consented was the baker's wife who was... well, she had pretty much the opposite build as you do. And since half the obstacle course is flooded, I nearly drowned. That was the last time I actually joined in, but watching... that was fun. Mostly because whoever got the baker's wife was in trouble."
"Then it was to Rahadoum. Odd thing about Rahadoum... everyone told me not to go there. Don't know why. Well, I found out why later. Anyway, that's where I discovered Buzkashi. Which is sort of like... do you have polo? It's like polo. Only instead of a ball, they use a dead goat." He shakes his head. "And nobody would tell me why. I mean, they have ball technology. I've seen it."
"And, of course, the less said about the local Varisian Beer Rag Tossing and Ferret Legging the better. Since it's actually against the rules to play sober."
As Alaric moves his shield, Mel looks at him with a What did I do? look. At his recitation of sports, she looks disturbed by the head football, amused by wife-carry, flabbergasted at buzkashi, and confused by ferret legging. It takes her a while as she thinks, "What is the point of the wife-carrying?"
As Alaric moves his shield, Mel looks at him with a What did I do? look. At his recitation of sports, she looks disturbed by the head football, amused by wife-carry, flabbergasted at buzkashi, and confused by ferret legging. It takes her a while as she thinks, "What is the point of the wife-carrying?"
"It's sort of like a race? Only there's an obstacle course, which varies from track to track. Some part is always flooded, and there are always a couple low walls you sort of jump over, depending on the... um... girth of your wife. And if you drop your wife, that's a foul, plus the problems that come with dropping your wife on her head into muddy water. Which ranges from, as I understand it, a sock in the jaw, sleeping on the couch, or an affair you only discover years later. Granted, if you drop another guy's wife, the added penalties are somewhat different."
He thinks about it. "I guess the point is to have fun. Which it mostly is."
If Buttersnips, Kelda and/or Zaiobe are in the area, she introduces them to Spivey. "This is Spivey, priest of Desna. Buttersnips, Zaiobe and Kelda" Myri indicates each in turn, "helped to defeat Kikonu, the big bad bird guy who could fly. They're coming with us to the caravan to talk...and maybe more, I guess."
After looking the three over them over, Spivey raises her eyebrows a bit at the presence of Zaiobe, but somehow does not seem particularly surprised to see her there, in some way, and Spivey greets her with a not-unfriendly, hello. ampleased meetingyou at last, inperson.
Buttersnips and Kelda, however, she greets with a much more guarded expression and a bit of a frown. Throughout the journey back, she seems wary of both of them.
Spivey declines Myri's offer of a ride. canfly.
As people begin to leave the castle he asks each of them if they would mind dragging a sled behind them...
Each sled comes equipped with handles and a harness made out of rope or some type of cloth. Each has been created to fit a individual in group. Also each pile is measured based on what Tollin feels each person can drag with little problem.
Liothonae takes one look at what Tollin is doing, with the harness and measurements, and turns ghostly white. She takes several panicked steps backwards, not looking where she's going.
And she stumbles over an errant piece of wood, falling backwards.
"It's sort of like a race? Only there's an obstacle course, which varies from track to track. Some part is always flooded, and there are always a couple low walls you sort of jump over, depending on the... um... girth of your wife. And if you drop your wife, that's a foul, plus the problems that come with dropping your wife on her head into muddy water. Which ranges from, as I understand it, a sock in the jaw, sleeping on the couch, or an affair you only discover years later. Granted, if you drop another guy's wife, the added penalties are somewhat different."
He thinks about it. "I guess the point is to have fun. Which it mostly is."
She smiles, obviously happy to see him happy, but she has to ask, "Did you drop the baker's wife?"
She smiles, obviously happy that to see him happy, but she has to ask, "Did you drop the baker's wife?"
"I didn't so much drop her as my legs gave out. So, she fell. On me. Which of course, is when I learned beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I don't breathe water, and I certainly don't breathe baker's wives." He pauses, then, almost disbelieving, like a man describing his first view of a god: "She was really big."
"I didn't so much drop her as my legs gave out. So, she fell. On me. Which of course, is when I learned beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I don't breathe water, and I certainly don't breathe baker's wives." He pauses, then, almost disbelieving, like a man describing his first view of a god: "She was really big."
Mel starts to laugh, then cuts herself off, looking a little horrified at herself for laughing at the poor woman that she has never seen nor met. When she catches herself, "What were your added penalties?"
If Buttersnips, Kelda and/or Zaiobe are in the area, she introduces them to Spivey. "This is Spivey, priest of Desna. Buttersnips, Zaiobe and Kelda" Myri indicates each in turn, "helped to defeat Kikonu, the big bad bird guy who could fly. They're coming with us to the caravan to talk...and maybe more, I guess."After looking the three over them over, Spivey raises her eyebrows a bit at the presence of Zaiobe, but somehow does not seem particularly surprised to see her there, in some way, and Spivey greets her with a not-unfriendly, hello. ampleased meetingyou at last, inperson.
Buttersnips and Kelda, however, she greets with a much more guarded expression and a bit of a frown. Throughout the journey back, she seems wary of both of them.
Spivey declines Myri's offer of a ride. canfly.
Myriana addresses the lyrakien when Buttersnips and Kelda are at least a little distant. "Spivey? I noticed you are...a little wary of some of our new, um...acquaintances. Um...can I ask why?"
Mel starts to laugh, then cuts herself off, looking a little horrified at herself for laughing at the poor woman that she has never seen nor met. When she catches herself, "What were your added penalties?"
Alaric is grinning. Comedy = tragedy + time, and the equation is on the side of the story. "Well, the thing about her, is that they don't expect you to succeed. She's sort of like a prank on the new guy, which was me at that time. Now here's the rub: there's no maximum weight on wives. There's a minimum weight, so like if someone married Buttersnips or something thinking they'd be the wife-carrying champion, nope. Illegal. I think... Myriana is probably the bare minimum we could get away with. So anyway, no one actually expected me to finish the course with that woman on my back, even though I tried to be clever and used Oregent-style, where she hangs upside down on my back, arms around my waist, and those thighs on either side of my head. Well, I pitch forward face first in that water, and she wants to get up, right? So she sits up. On the back of my head."
He laughs at the memory. "No added penalties. The baker thought it was funnier than everyone else there."
thosetwo are evil, says Spivey quietly, indicating Buttersnips and Kelda. bear watching, until i findout whatway
Alaric is grinning. Comedy = tragedy + time, and the equation is on the side of the story. "Well, the thing about her, is that they don't expect you to succeed. She's sort of like a prank on the new guy, which was me at that time. Now here's the rub: there's no maximum weight on wives. There's a minimum weight, so like if someone married Buttersnips or something thinking they'd be the wife-carrying champion, nope. Illegal. I think... Myriana is probably the bare minimum we could get away with. So anyway, no one actually expected me to finish the course with that woman on my back, even though I tried to be clever and used Oregent-style, where she hangs upside down on my back, arms around my waist, and those thighs on either side of my head. Well, I pitch forward face first in that water, and she wants to get up, right? So she sits up. On the back of my head."
He laughs at the memory. "No added penalties. The baker thought it was funnier than everyone else there."
Well, obviously Alaric survived, but Mel still looks at him to make sure, chewing on her lower lip to keep her amusement quiet. "If he hadn't been amused what would have happened to you?"
Well, obviously Alaric survived, but Mel still looks at him to make sure, chewing on her lower lip to keep her amusement quiet. "If he hadn't been amused what would have happened to you?"
He shrugs. "Beaten up, maybe? It's sort of an insult, dropping another man's wife. Especially when they usually go for these slender things... they would love you over there. Anyway, after that experience, I officially retired from wife-carrying, at least as long as the baker's wife is anywhere within earshot."
He shrugs. "Beaten up, maybe? It's sort of an insult, dropping another man's wife. Especially when they usually go for these slender things... they would love you over there. Anyway, after that experience, I officially retired from wife-carrying, at least as long as the baker's wife is anywhere within earshot."
Looks a little sad, but then smiles, "That seems excessive for an insult, but you would know better than I. And what good would I be for that? I'm no ones wife so not a valid... burden?"
And continuing on quickly, "What is Beer Rag Tossing and Ferret Legging? I'm from Varisia and I've never heard of it."
thosetwo are evil, says Spivey quietly, indicating Buttersnips and Kelda. bear watching, until i findout whatway
"Oh." says Myri in a small voice. "I'm sorry. They seemed all right. Kelda was a prisoner we rescued and she fought for us after we freed her. Buttersnips is an artist...of sorts. A...um, taxidermy thing." Myri only partially suppresses a shiver. "Very well done, but kinda disturbing. I hope you don't mind. They did help us."
Looks a little sad, but then smiles, "That seems excessive for an insult, but you would know better than I. And what good would I be for that? I'm no ones wife so not a valid... burden?"
And continuing on quickly, "What is Beer Rag Tossing and Ferret Legging? I'm from Varisia and I've never heard of it."
"Ferret Legging. Oh, Ferret Legging. Now, I'm not sure who invented this sport, but I know for a fact he was drunk. Basically they stuff two ferrets into your breeches and whoever keeps them in there longest wins. Now what they win is basically pride. And shredded genitals. And before you ask, I have never played and never will play. I think it's one of those sports that exists more as a cautionary tale."
"Beer Rag Tossing is... wow. I don't know how anyone thought of this without suffering severe head trauma. One guy, called the flonker, because of an obscure rule in Beer Rag Tossing where everything has to have the most ridiculous name possible, stands in the middle of a ring formed by a bunch of other drunks. Now the ring of people dances, or girts in one direction (for why it's called girting, see the earlier rule), while the flonker spins in the opposite direction and hurls a beer-soaked rag at the girters. If he hits, he gets a point or something (no one knows, since no one has ever remembered the end of a game), and if he misses, he has to drink a chamber-pot filled with beer. Everyone gets a turn as flonker. And generally, everyone wakes up the next morning with horrible headaches and things drawn on their faces."
Evil detection istool, gives hints. Good, evil, lawful, neutral arenot straitjackets. Each contains broadrange of types, broadrange of thoughts. Two withsame can be different. Two withdifferent can be same. And nopeople ever consistent anywise. All detect tells me is, bearswatching until I know whatmeans.
"Ferret Legging. Oh, Ferret Legging. Now, I'm not sure who invented this sport, but I know for a fact he was drunk. Basically they stuff two ferrets into your breeches and whoever keeps them in there longest wins. Now what they win is basically pride. And shredded genitals. And before you ask, I have never played and never will play. I think it's one of those sports that exists more as a cautionary tale."
"Beer Rag Tossing is... wow. I don't know how anyone thought of this without suffering severe head trauma. One guy, called the flonker, because of an obscure rule in Beer Rag Tossing where everything has to have the most ridiculous name possible, stands in the middle of a ring formed by a bunch of other drunks. Now the ring of people dances, or girts in one direction (for why it's called girting, see the earlier rule), while the flonker spins in the opposite direction and hurls a beer-soaked rag at the girters. If he hits, he gets a point or something (no one knows, since no one has ever remembered the end of a game), and if he misses, he has to drink a chamber-pot filled with beer. Everyone gets a turn as flonker. And generally, everyone wakes up the next morning with horrible headaches and things drawn on their faces."
The look on her face is easy to read, and matches what she says, "Even drunk... Why would anyone...?" and as an afterthought,
The look on her face is easy to read, and matches what she says, "Even drunk... Why would anyone...?" and as an afterthought,
"Me too!" he says emphatically.
As you approach the Caravan, Kelda suddenly draws her sword and drops into a fighting stance.
"Goblin!" she calls out. "There's probably more in the woods!"
Reta sighs heavily as Kelda charges forward.
As you approach the Caravan, Kelda suddenly draws her sword and drops into a fighting stance.
"Goblin!" she calls out. "There's probably more in the woods!"
Reta sighs heavily as Kelda charges forward.
Mel starts to move to intercept Kelda, "Ekki óvinurinn. The græðari dóttir." A pause, "Or I think that's how I should say it."
Spivey shrugs and continues to speak quietly.
Evil detection istool, gives hints. Good, evil, lawful, neutral arenot straitjackets. Each contains broadrange of types, broadrange of thoughts. Two withsame can be different. Two withdifferent can be same. And nopeople ever consistent anywise. All detect tells me is, bearswatching until I know whatmeans.
"Oh." Myri sighs, "Maybe I need you as a conscience or something." she says only half joking, "I thought "Good" was supposed to be good and "Evil" was supposed to be bad..and then I met Mel and Alaric. It seems like everything is getting so...well, "nuanced" that it's become quite confusing. It makes it harder to know what's right and when to "pull the trigger" to use Tollin's words...and hesitating in the wrong situation could mean a friend gets hurt...or worse. I don't want to see that happen, but...I'm having a hard time making decisions. I think that makes me a little...well...scared.
You know?"
As you approach the Caravan, Kelda suddenly draws her sword and drops into a fighting stance.
"Goblin!" she calls out. "There's probably more in the woods!"
Reta sighs heavily as Kelda charges forward.
Mel starts to move to intercept Kelda, "Ekki óvinurinn. The græðari dóttir." A pause, "Or I think that's how I should say it."
** spoiler omitted **
Myri is a little more direct. "Kelda! No! Stop! NOT an enemy!" ...or at least she thinks she is.
"And if she doesn't want that fate?" A pause, "Although she will probably want to protect her grandfather's countrymen from that monster, but don't force people into a path that they don't want to walk."
Hrunndalf looks confused. "What makes you think I could force Ameiko down another path than her own? She is made of tougher wood than that. But now it looks like the gods themselves laid out a path for her, and I doubt she will shy from it. Her people need her, as you pointed out. Whatever path she chooses, I shall walk it with her."
As an afterthought: "I do hope she will go to Minkai. I've never been there. I hear they make good tea."
As the group prepares to leave Brinewall behind, Hrunndalf addresses his companions while resting a hand on Zaiobe's. "There is one more thing to discuss. The Seal can cast the Heal spell, which may be mighty enough to release Zaiobe from her muteness. Of course, using the Seal in that manner would expose it once more to the ever-watching eyes of the enemy. Can we risk that?"
"Myself, I suspect that if the enemy is indeed as intent on finding the Seal as we are led to believe, the magical outburst we witnessed cannot have gone undetected, and thus we have little to lose from opening the box once more, and in the same location as the first time."
"In any case, the final word is Ameiko's."
yes, says Spivey. i know. always hard. never gets easy, if doneright. you feellost, feelscared? probably on righttrack.
To Kelda: "Þeir hafa rétt á því. Alaric samþykkti krakki þegar frændur hennar fór hana dauður, og hún hefur ferðast með okkur síðan. Hún er furðu vel haga sér."
yes, says Spivey. i know. always hard. never gets easy, if doneright. you feellost, feelscared? probably on righttrack.
"Hmmm, that seems to put those trying to be good at a tremendous disadvantage." Myriana replies. Nonetheless she seems to be strangely reassured. "Thank you, Spivey. I guess I needed that...and thank you for coming to meet our friends as well."
Mel chuckles slightly as she walks up the stairs.
"What makes you think I could force Ameiko down another path than her own? She is made of tougher wood than that. But now it looks like the gods themselves laid out a path for her, and I doubt she will shy from it. Her people need her, as you pointed out. Whatever path she chooses, I shall walk it with her."
As an afterthought: "I do hope she will go to Minkai. I've never been there. I hear they make good tea."
"Gods? Do things for their own reasons and in their own times. Don't want to walk their path, insanity lies down it. Ameiko will choose her own path. And will no doubt upset the gods careful laid plans on the way."
"Frankly, I think it's more likely that she will go because there is suffering, pain, and torment that she can do something about. After all, she's a hero, she wants to save the world... Or at least every part of it that she can."
Rhost moves to interpose himself between Kelda and Reta -- if he's fast enough. He will take a hit if necessary.