Pemsworth, distracted momentarily by Quinn's drunken requests, suddenly listens closely as the woman speaks to Tsin.
"Yes, Quinn is quite the catch. He is as agile as a cat and as potent as a bull," Pems says to the young woman in Skald, "I understand he is like a stallion in bed, although with less sweating and saddles."
At the thump of prudence from Mal, Quinn remembers his situation. "Oh, ah, that was another bird, not this one, No, no, it was, ah, GENO, from Taldor, nowhere near these parts. Ha, I always mistake those two, the rhyming you see?"
Quinn lets out a sign of relief at the close call and takes another drink as he turns back to Pems and the young lady. Though he has no idea what Pems may be saying to her, he's sure his companion is telling it true, so Quinn nods along and smiles with heroic posture.
Hektir has a few drinks while he keeps checking out the local ladies, but doesn't make a move tonight.
He's waiting for what he does best...swooping in after Quinn has made a connection and picking up the pieces from there.
That's right,Quinn...keep talking. The ladies will doubly appreciate my manly charm... Hektir mentally flexes his muscles.
Having done his wingmanly best, Pems nods to Quinn and says in a low tone, "That woman just told Tsin she should leave Irrisen and Tsin just got up and left. That doesn't seem normal, does it?"
I'm not in danger. I am the danger.
We've brought ourselves to the trouble thus far. Now, trouble knows us, and it has chosen to follow us. Well, let it. Let it take me far from Waldsby, from its citizens, so when it comes, we are alone, and can have it out without risk of collateral damage.
"Maybe she just said 'we should leave here soon', did they leave together? Not for me to judge anyone, if Tsin is happy then so am I. Perhaps that tea is part of her mating ritual?"
Quinn looks over to see Hektir sitting there eyes closed and flexing his muscles and considers the pretty girl with whom he can't really communicate. "Good thing no one is judging mating rituals, eh?" Quinn nudges Hektir and Pems then takes another drink.
Pems frowns at Quinn, shakes his head and gets up, heading after Tsin.
"Oh dash it all, blast, and- and- and bebother the lot of you and your- your juvenielle lack of temperence! Two and a half of you here and the only one with any wits is the halfing!" The wizard rises grumpily from his seat, his staff in hand. Glowering like only frustrated old men can, he turns from Hektir's strutting and Quinn's babbling and begins to follow Pemsworth to the door in rather brusque fashion. Tromping out into the snow, he calls after the distant Tsin, "Tsin? I say Quinn?! Oh dash it all, they've got me so angry I've mixed up your blasted rhyming names again! Bah! Whatever your name is, wait for an old man, won't you?
Malavarius tromps through the snow after Tsin, at one point quietly remarking to Zeno, "You know, Zeno, I'm quite fond of this new hat! Remind me to use these fluffy ear flaps the next time those inebriates start babbling though."
"Bah! Hush you!"
Tsin seems to be returning to Nadya's house.
"What? What did I say?" Quinn looks to Hektir and back to the departing Pems, Mal, and Tsin. "Dang it all, Hektir, everyone is leaving, come on, grab a bottle for the road and lets go." Quinn hastily buys a bottle of something strong, or so he hopes, then weaves out after his companions. "At least let a man get soaked after being dry for days, no respect for the rites of Cayden."
Pems catches up to Tsin, his short legs burning and his breath coming in gasps. "Tsin! Tsin! Dash it all, at least slow down woman! I can't.... huff huff.... keep up...huff huff... with you!" Pems yanks on her arm, trying to get her to stop.
"Where are you going? Is this about that woman in the bar? Listen, if you're all for leaving, fine and all, but let's do it together! Safety in numbers, Tsin!"
Tsin feels the tug at her sleeve, and her hand circles Pems' own, whether to shake loose of it or to grasp for it in vain, it's difficult to know.
"We mustn't tarry. We are not welcome here." Tsin can't seem to muster much more than that, her hair blowing loosely in the wind.
Her stride slows not one jot.
Pems, left behind by the larger woman's stride, stops and cups his hands to his mouth. He whispers, sending a message to Mal and Hektir. "Tsin's decided she's leaving. I can't stop her. Come to Nadya's house immediately!"
As Quinn leaves, Hektir nods to the priest.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be right behind you..." Hektir says, emptying his second moonshine and strutting up to the bar and the young woman that Quinn was courting.
Now's my time to shine... Hektir says as he smiles at the lass.
"How you doin'?" Hektir says with a nod. "Did you see which way my friend went? Did he go that way? *flex* *pose*" Hektir strikes up a pose, flexing his new be-witched muscles. "Or did he go that way? *flex* *pose*" Hektir asks, changing his posing flex to a different exit.
Diplomacy to score
If successful, Hektir will try to talk the lady into returning to her home...he will rejoin the party the next morning in an extremely good mood and ready to take on the witches singlehandedly.
Hektir takes the rejection in stride, slowly deflating his pose and nodding.
"That's okay, I'm sure there are other women around here."
Hektir gets another bottle of liquor to go and trails the party home.
The woman giggles at Hektir, especially as his face registers shock from suddenly hearing Pems' voice. She doe not seem particularly interested in him, however.
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Hektir gives the woman one last chance to get with him, language barrier or no, speaking words of love. Hektir sidles up a bit closer and whispers to the fair lady.
"My love for you is like diarrhea," Hektir says with a 'sexy', dee[ voice. "I can't hold it in."
Diplomacy
* * ** * *
Hektir enjoys the walk back to Nadya's place, secure in his manhood and that he gave it his best shot.
"I'm right behind you, Master Pemsworth. I can hear you just fine with out having to rely on magics." As he closes the distance between himself and the halfing, he exchanges a worried glance with Zeno. He turns to Pemsworth once he's caught up, a bright sparkle in his shining blue eyes, "Well what are you doing standing around for? Let's see if we can catch up to our departing butcher, shall we?"
Pems stops and looks confused and a little sickened by Hektir's response. He spits, trying to get the taste of those words out of his body and hurries after Tsin, nodding as he hears Mal's reply.
Tsin doesn't seem to waste time securing her items straightaway, but she does look through the foodstores for durable rations to take with her, before she sets off.
Hektir returns to Nadya's place and makes bed for the night, not worried if Tsin wants to return home.
She's got right to do what she wants to do.
"Ah...let her go. She'll be back. She made a promise, she did. She'll remember that, I'm sure. No matter how bad the tea is here, no reason to break your word."
Pems finally catches up with Tsin as she's searching for rations. "But where are you going?!?"
Following the smaller footprints of Pems through the snow, Quinn stumbles up to his companions. "That was an early departure, I hope we get a chance to go back. What's all the fuss with Tsin? Surely she isn't leaving Irrisen?" His joy from the pub fading at his companion's concern, Quinn continues with them to Nadya's house to intercept Tsin.
Malavarius, Quinn, and Pemsworth enter the house as Tsin begins collecting supplies for travel. Glancing curiously to the halfing, Malavarius turns to Tsin, "Are you planning on going somewhere without us, girl? And here I thought you were starting to warm up to cranky ol' Zeno too."
Peck!
"Ouch! Stop that, you! Resorting to physical violence like some uneducated thug. Harumpf."
Quinn becomes genuinely concerned at the sight of Tsin packing foodstuffs. "Whoa there, Tsinny, where you going? You're not leaving us are you? We have a witch to defeat and a child to rescue, we know you're not running from anything, so where are you going?"
Turning to Pems and Mal, Quinn gives them a frightened look. "I know not how to tell if arcane enchantment holds a person?"
Tsin mutters, under her breath at first, then louder when it seems necessary to convey the importance of her departure. "We endanger the folk here. We aren't welcome here." As she briefly inspects the backpack for its new weight, she straps it on, and heads to the front door.
"Well, um, how about we stop by the witch tower on the way, OK? We'll all go together and we'll leave town, we'll just take the business route and fulfill our promises before we leave, right? We'll be on the road, on the way home, just let us pack and we'll all go together." Quinn hopes to at least temporarily delay Tsin's rush as the companions figure out what to do.
"On the contrary, my dear girl. I think Nadya and those we saved from that gigantic mantis are quite happy to have us and to know us. What gives you the impression that we must leave simply because some strangers find us unwelcome?" He glances to Quinn, "And thankfully, young Master Kestrel here is speaking sense once more. We've got a witch to deal with yet as well as a portal to close."
Taking the snowshoes from next to the door, Tsin begins to strap them on. "We need to find another place. We endanger Waldsby by our presence." Her fingers move deftly enough, and she stands, shakes a foot to test its security, and opens the front door. Steps from the home, it becomes apparent that Tsin is moving in the only direction she knows related to the village- back towards the Portal.
"I should think the opposite would be true if you ask those who survived the giant mantis yesterday, Tsin. And just where do you plan to wander in the dark? You're not thinking this through, child."
Hektir looks around, wondering why everyone is at Nadya's place when there is a completely good bar somewhat close...not to mention the assuredly interested woman that Hektir and Quinn had been hitting on.
"Ah c'mon. Just because the tea was weak that don't mean you need to leave town. We'll buy you some better tea on the morrow," Hektir spits out the door as Tsin leaves, then turns his attention to Quinn and gives the priest a look. Women!
"You wanna go back to the bar? We still got some moonlight and I bet the moonshine is cold," Hektir asks.
If not, Hektir will make a bed and get some shut eye as he has witches to slay on the morrow.
Pems hovers around as the men try to convince Tsin to stay. Something seems off about everything, but he can't quite put his finger on it.
"A quick exit from town is what is called for. You're reckless for delaying departure." Tsin continues her trek across the snow, enabled by the snowshoes.
"You're reckless for not explaining yourself, girl! Now get a hold of yourself and come back inside. I've no desire to chase you or follow you across the twice blasted face of Irrisen tonight!" Malavarius' tone has shifted to one more akin to a grandfather chastising a little girl. He punctuates his displeasure at the end by slamming the tip of his staff down onto the ground. "What's gotten into you, Tsin? Hmmm? You normally make more sense than the three of these dunderheads put together!"
Quinn looks to his companions, "Something is wrong here? Should I pray to Cayden to hold her still while we tie her up? She can't go into the snowy night by herself, that's suicide!"
Pems, you think she might be under the influence of some sort of spell, especially considering what you overheard in the White Weasel.
"Isn't it obvious to the rest of you that we needs move on? Isn't it?!" Frustration tinges her voice as she struggles with the straps.
"Mr. King? I think she's enspelled! That woman whispered to her and now she's convinced she ought to leave town. Does that sound like a spell to you?"
Hektir still looks ready to drink more or sleep, willing to other Tsin make up her own mind about what she wants to do.
"No, my dear, it's not obvious. We've been shown great hospitality thus far as a matter of fact, which is rather the opposite of what you're suggesting."
Then, as Pemsworth suggests magic at work, Malavarius' eyes narrow as he regards Tsin. Not sure of the nature of the spell's origin, he casts his own spell and begins stroking his beard in consideration.
You detect enchantment magic.
Malavarius suddenly tugs violently on his beard in frustration, "Bah! Witchery! You're exactly right, Pemsworth, Tsin has indeed been enchanted." He jabs Quinn in the chest with the head of his staff, "See what happens when you blabber on senselessly? Mind your tongue around strangers next time, boy." He frowns as he turns back to Tsin, and scratches the tip of his nose. "Well, this won't hurt, and it might free her for a few minutes at least. Here goes nothing!"
Malavarius rolls up his voluminous sleeves, then casts a spell of his own over Tsin.
He jabs Quinn in the chest with the head of his staff, "See what happens when you blabber on senselessly? Mind your tongue around strangers next time, boy."
For once Quinn has nothing to say and just hangs his head with a shamed face.
"Enchanted? Mal, please. Why is this even up for discussion. At least let us talk when we've distanced ourselves." Tsin looks down at her shoes, rocks back and forth to test the straps, and looks expectantly back and forth between the men.
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With few other options, Quinn does what he does best. Flopping on the floor he grips Tsin shoes even as she looks at them and begins a monologue on her merits. "Don't leave us butcher, you keep us safe, we'll surely perish here without you! It's your strong arm that leads our way through this blinding snow! It's your level head that prevails when Hektir is talking nonsense!" Quinn continues the monologue as he continues gripping Tsin's shoes, feet, legs, holding her back at every step and hoping that someone else has a better idea.