The Vixen finds Ash's reaction absolutely adorable. "Between yer wood-chopping and the dozen rats that ran up me skirt the other day, I'd say a bath tops our to-do list for the evening.
"Until then, I've a full day's work ahead o' me." The Vixen looks for a place to sit near Ash's work area. "I don't suppose ye'd mind if I spend the first hour o' me work here with ye?"
If Asham is fine with it, VV removes her mask and starts to draw.
After an hour, Addy will have a rough fashion-sketch of Ash in a wyvern hide. As she draws, Addy chats a bit about her parents starting off in the fur trade.
She's curious about Asham's childhood, but remembering the scars, simply expresses her interest in knowing more about Ash.
At the end of the hour, Addy will propose to craft what she's sketched: a wyvern hide outfit for Ash—"A gift to commemorate the two of us battling side-by-side!"
|
”If you wish to go, then go with Abadar’s blessing,” Ahto replies, clapping the big man on the shoulder. ”You have proven yourself a good man, Sams. Go live an honest, prosperous life. Go see your mother. Be at peace.”
Ahto smiles at the man, but his eyes are touched with a mixture of sadness and pride.
Noticing Sams and Ahto, the Vixen slips on her mask and tucks her sketch pad in her purse. She says to Ash, "I better check this out." She invites Ash to join her.
The Vixen says to Sams, "Going back to mother sounds like the first step on the path to a peaceful life. I know we just met, but ye've been an inspiration to me since we first fought alongside each other. Everyone knows yer strong, Sams, but yer biggest muscle's yer heart."
Half-regretting the purpleness of her prose, she says, "By that corny line, I mean yer ability to fight hard and still show mercy impressed me. Well... that and yer fondness for Make Bigger Juice. But seeing how I'd rather not quadruple me waistline, it's just yer merciful fighting style I mean to emulate."
The Vixen gives Sams a hug and, because she hates the finality of 'good-bye,' she says, "Thanks."
The Vixen is surprised by the gift. She stares at the strange liquid, masked eyes widening in awe. "What's it... taste like?" She isn't sure what else to say until she is given yet another gift.
"Hero—yes—yer mighty arm certainly saved me ass from that oversized insect..."
She accepts and dons the cloak, then assures Sams, "I will try the juice, if drinking it'll help me protect me friends, even though I'll end up weighing a thousand..." She mumbles the rest of the not-so-girlish figure, which is either 1024 or 1096 or one-thousand-somethingy-something. Then it dawns on her: "But after a minute, I'd lose nine hundred pounds." She grins giddily at the thought.
Perhaps it is unclear to Sams that weight is an extremely sensitive topic to the Vixen, but one thing is crystal clear to him:
VV replies, "Wonky's in her shop."
The Vixen intends to (as Addy) measure Wonky for a wyvern hide outfit, but it can wait. It's apparent that Wonky is especially close to Sams. They should have their good-bye without an audience.
"I've a feeling she'll want to speak to ye alone, so don't be shy about interrupting her."
|
Tears flow down the gnome’s face as she smiles at Sams’ words. She chokes back a sob and turns it into a giggle.
”Of course, my friend, you now get to make the rest of your life bigger. Go, but never forget us....and come back to visit someday, please. I think Sprocket would like that immensely. And here,” and Wonky presses a sealed letter in Sams’ hand, ”this will be for you to work on as you travel or for someone to read to you when you get somewhere safe.”
Wonky squares her shoulders to the massive ex-bandit. ”Farewell dear Sams. Until next we meet.”
Svetlana has already packed a trove of gingerbread cakes and candies for the road. She presses them into Sams’ hands and sends him off with a kiss to the forehead. There is a tear in her eye, as though she were saying goodbye to her own son.
"You'll always have a home here, boy," she says with a warm smile.
Even gruff Oleg’s face softens a shade as he comes over and offers a handshake to the departing Sams.
"I'll miss having Kalima and Aurelius around to talk to," Asham says to the Vixen, having offered her own goodbyes to her fellow protectors of the trading post. "Aurelius was right down to earth. Even Kalima was enjoyable to talk to, for a noblewoman."
Asham sighs, still wiping sweat from her brow with a borrowed cloth.
"I think I'll take the plunge and just ask," she says, steeling her nerves. "I'm right curious about the mask you wear. At first, I was worried you were one of those Razmiran strangers. That was one of the things that had me nervous. One of the things."
"This li'l thing?" she asks, looking at it as if a mirror. "Well, ye've a right to know about the mask."
She takes Ash's hand, if she lets her, and brings it to her face. The Vixen wants to feel Ash's touch on her face because, for reasons unknown, the Child is making an exception. The Vixen decides to repay the favor with an exception of her own. She will state the Child's name... only for Ash.
"And ye've a right to know the girl behind the mask," she goes on, "Addison Lane. It means 'awesome warrior,' but all li'l Addy wanted was to design and craft ladies' clothing."
She shows Ash the drawing she started on—of Ash in a wyvern hide outfit.
"I mean to make an outfit for ye from that wyvern. It's based on..."
The Vixen flips back to another outfit she made for one of author Jane Bond's younger lady-friends. She shows Ash a couple other designs made for twenty-plus-year-old clients, but rather than ask Ash what she prefers, the Vixen takes out another sketch book.
This shows a depiction of the seven dead brides. If Ash hasn't already heard, she tells her the story of avenging Vikki. Then she explains what went through her head as she methodically set the trap, and knowingly put herself in harm's way, and even remained calm in battle—"—just like I was calm as Baldar's dogs were ripping me apart, or when I thought a giant ant would end me, or when I got between you and the wyvern..."
She looks Ash in the eyes, hoping she is pleased by the unmasked freckle-face.
"It ain't the mask that kept me head on straight. The mask is just a thing. A thing I can explain, but not until ye understand what keeps me in the fight every time:
"Love."
She lets the word just hang for a few seconds.
"It's me reason to live, me reason not to fear death, me reason to risk it all to protect the innocent. Or failing that... avenge 'em.
"And the mask... it separates the Vixen from Addison Lane. She's an innocent too, so when I put this on..."
The Vixen slips the mask back on.
"...I no longer see meself as an innocent. Just a faceless warrior whose sole purpose is to protect. I failed to protect Vikki, and it never stopped hurting, and it's not a pain that'll ever go away. It's a pain that either remains stagnant, or grows worse if I fail to protect another.
"So... I haven't.
"So far... I haven't."
The Vixen starts to feel the kinds of emotions that the Child feels. She wants to cry, but doesn't. She's not supposed to. Crying is the Child's job.
She tells Ash, "It was hard to tell ye that, but I want ye to know ye can ask me anything, and I'll tell ye the whole of it, even when it's hard.
"Ye can tell me anything too." The Vixen remembers Ash's scars, but does not bring that up. "If not now, tonight. A bath and a massage and either ye tell me about yerself... or I can ask.
"For now me only question's o' that plan for tonight. Have we a date?"
In the days following the departure of Sams and the party's other companions, a quiet routine falls upon the trading post in the aftermath of the siege and the bandits' defeat.
Although the majority of the indentures seized their newfound freedom and departed, work on the bunkhouse nears completion. Kimber and Jerrick seem more interested in inventorying the loot liberated from the fort. However, Akiros and Barris throw themselves into the work, almost making up for the loss of manpower.
In her seclusion, Wonky finishes work on fine tuning her stonebow into a masterwork weapon and converting her gnome pincher into a mancatcher.
Hexa has produced a supply of usable hide and leather from the wyvern carcass, presenting some to Addy as a gift for the newest member of his warband.
Addy spends the first day sketching fashion designs for Wonky, Svetlana and Asham. She also takes the scalp of the wyvern and includes it in a letter to her mother.
She starts the letter Dear Mum, as opposed to the more formal "Mother" she tends to say aloud. She mentions being safe and gainfully employed, but says nothing of her specific job. The only risky business mentioned is that she helped defeat a wyvern. Details of Wonky's craftiness, Ahto's leadership, Sams' use of MAKE BIGGER juice (which Addy feels must be capitalized) are all in the letter, along with the Vixen's daring leap to make sure the lovely Asham would not fight alone.
She goes on to say: The wyvern scalp is a trophy, but I would very much like you and Daddy to keep it. My true reward for making that strike was earning a place in Asham's heart. I have never truly moved on from Vikki's murder, but I have found love, employment, and amazing colleagues.
And happiness, she adds. Then the tears flow. She can never be entirely truthful to her parents, never use the word "Vixen" nor tell what the Vixen does and was in fact already doing prior to employment. Rather than dwell on her countless omissions, Addy takes out her vermilion pencil to color in the hollow heart in her signature:
~♥️,
Addy
She thanks Hexa for the honorable inclusion in his War Tribe, and also hopes Wonky will be cheered up by the apron and gloves (or whatever outfit Wonky would like, should she change her mind prior to Addy's crafting).
As the Vixen, she consistently reports to Ahto every dawn and makes sure she has permission to craft. She makes certain to check in with Barris, asking about his hand, thanking him for casting Mending on occasion, and doing her part to make him feel welcome. She is pleasant with all of the indentured, but Barris is her clear favorite, much as she tries not to display favoritism.
With the soldiers, she is quite brazen about having a favorite. Asham is the only woman in the company. The Vixen is never overly passionate when Ash is in front of her peers, but only for decorum's sake. Once the two are behind closed doors, the Vixen can barely contain herself. She cherishes every romantic moment with Ash, adores the way she looks at her when they greet—and should Garess match her off to Restov, the Vixen will think about Ash every day, praying for her.
She hopes there will be a night that Ash will lie beside her in bed. Maybe then, she won't awaken in a pool of her own tears. Damp pillows have greeted her every morning since Vikki's death, exceptions being the sleepless night with Baldar and company and those nights on the road. She slept as the masked Vixen on those nights.
She explains the prayer is for "Vikki, a dear friend..." VV already told Ash the story, but Addy feels the need to reiterate—to emphasize, "...and no matter me feelings for her, she could never've felt for me what I then felt for her.
"—what I now feel for you."
Indeed, Addy's feelings for Ash have grown as she spent days crafting her wyvern hide outfit. Before she was simply the Vixen's girl—jumping a wyvern to save the girl was a great story for the Vixen. They'd have a fling, like in a Bond novel, and the Vixen would save another cute girl, and they'd do... whatever hasn't yet happened with Ash.
But Asham's acceptance of the kiss was, in fact, a surprise. Most ladies Addy's age want husbands—or already have one. And as Ash did not reject the Vixen's advances, but simply persuaded her to take things slow, Addy started to share the Vixen's feelings. The Vixen was supposed to bed anything in a skirt, but instead she went off-script. She found love, which is what Addy wanted.
Ugh... don't tell me I wrote me Vixen as a self-insert. Addy recalls Jane Bond's critics pejoratively applied that label to Bond's main character, Belle DeFleur.
"I sometimes wonder, Ash, when the Vixen jumped o'er the wyvern, qho was she trying to rescue?
"'Cause in the couple weeks I've known ye, I've managed to do what I was unable to for the past four years. I've let go. I'm done mourning me friend—I'm done wanting to die to be with her." Addy's eyes well with tears. She says to Ash, "I never told anyone this, but the night before we fought thee wyvern, people were scared. Even big Sams. Not me, o' course... but no one knew the reason.
"I shared the reason in me prayers. I started praying to Milani—the Vixen prayed, I mean. We'd just met. Remember, at the range? The Vixen's prayer included ye—you especially. A prayer for yer safety. I prayed for others, but not meself. I was pretty sure I'd die, and in me prayers I told Vikki I'd see her soon. I looked forward to death.
"That's why I gave up me business and donned me mask—and me killer heels. I was supposed to die. Maybe take down a few scum bags first, then die. But I'd lost me will to live, and wanted to go down in a blaze o' glory."
The Vixen takes Ash's hands.
"I'm only telling ye this now because that ain't the case no more. I've you to thank, Ash. Because now the girl in me heart's alive, and I know that to be with ye, I need to live. And last battle I fought, when I knew one more blow'd end me, I found me desire to return to ye was stronger than me deathwish.
"In other words, Ash, I'm thanking ye for saving me life.
"And why I picked her of all places is 'cause I really need ye by me side as I say good-bye to me dear, sweet Vikki. I'll always be her friend, but it's time I stopped being her mourner."
Addy is afraid to say the word Love, but that's her feeling for Ash in a word. The Vixen should be the one to say it, she decides.
In case Ash also has a dead friend or relative she'd like to offer a prayer to, Addy offers, "If there's someone ye lost in the past, let's pray for his or her soul as well."
|
|
Ahto spends his time checking on the status of the growing community.
He asks Oleg and Svetlana to appraise the goods and treasure retrieved from the bandit fort.
"You've a good head for business, and an honest heart Master Oleg. You would know best what they are worth," he says, clapping Oleg on the shoulder.
"And you, Mistress Svetlana, run this household with unrivaled efficiency and practicality. Master Oleg could have no finer partner on his road to prosperity."
He then makes his way to Barris, wanting to see if the flock of Abdarian faithful has grown.
A very precise and astute trader, Oleg provides a remarkably exact estimate for the recovered trade goods. In fact, other than bidding farewell to Sams, this is the closest you've seen the man come to an open smile. For her part, Svetlana seems equally pleased by both the praise she receives and how her husband reacts positively to his own praise - or at least, the matter of business that accompanies it.
Checking upon Barris, Ahto finds that the wayward priest approaches his atonement with austerity. Not only is his face cleanly shaven, but he has done the same to his scalp, as well. This makes him all the more of a contrast with Akiros, who maintains an unruly mop of tangled hair. In fact, you notice that Barris keeps close to his odd-couple partner, Akiros, as they work on finishing the bunkhouse.
"I'll do my best to keep him on the straight and narrow," Barris whispers to Ahto with a knowing nod.
You have undoubtedly become local heroes in these parts. This much is made clear by how the local trappers and hunters look to you and speak with you. Unfortunately, it is also evident in how they come to you with their troubles.
A few ask whether you could take care of that "eight-legged nasty" that makes its lair just southeast of the trading post, "about a dozen miles yonder." Another worried hunter approaches about something he's seen in the western swamps.
"I been hearing some gods-awful sounds: like frog bellows, but bigger and louder. They echoed off the trees like thunder. It was pretty close to that elk temple you helped clean up, so I'm right worried about that priest fellow, Kavken. He seems like a right decent man, so I wouldn't want nothing bad to happen to him."
Lastly, you hear - mostly in passing - a few visitors speak about a local trapper, one Breeg Orlivanch. It seems he has not been seen in quite some time. However, rather than concern, they speak more with schadenfreude and even speculate about how he may have met a well-deserved end.
"Love to," the Vixen replies. "Just gotta say 'bye to Ash first.
"Because." Awkward pause. "Reasons."
Ahto's altar to Abadar sees the most visits these days. While it might be fitting for hearing prayers to Shelyn, you doubt whether it would be as welcoming to Milanite prayers. Asham seems to anticipate this conundrum, for she leads you to a small shrine, made from a pair of braced antlers, in the shadow of the northwest watchtower. A number of broken arrows have been left before the shrine, and a single wyvern's tooth has also been placed as an offering.
"Kavken, that traveling priest of Erastil, made this when he was staying at the post," Asham explains. "After he left to tend to his temple in the woods, some of us kept visiting. The lizardman even left the tooth," she says, aiming a finger at the small trophy. She adds with a laugh, "He'd only give up one, though. The headman's altar is...respectable, but it's a little intimidating. I'm not sure if you'd understand, the brave thing that you are."
Asham sighs after listening to Addy, unmasked, unburdening herself.
"I'm not a complicated woman," she confesses. "My grandparents were claimed by age, and I had a sickly little brother who lived only a few months. My tragedies are terribly ordinary. After all, Pharasma makes cradles for us all. Make no mistake, I'm not callous. You have nothing but my sympathy, for both you and your Vikki. However, I can't rightly say I understand what you've been through - but that doesn't mean I can't support you all the same."
She punctuates this sentiment by placing her hand on yours. Her fingers twitch, as though suddenly unsure if this be their rightful place. In the end, though, they remain.
Asham's lips part to speak again, but whatever thought came to mind dies on her tongue. Instead, she turns back to the simple shrine and offers a wordless prayer.
.....
Vekkel the hunter, who has taken to loitering around the trading post to pester the reticent Hexa with conversation, offers some insight on the spider.
"I seen it. It's a black and red brute the size of a pony," he says, spreading his arms to emphasize its scale. "I once saw it drag an entire elk into its lair. That's right, it ain't a web-weaving spider. It's the kind that hides in holes and leaps out to grab whatever's passing near."
"But ye're me girl and I'm yers."
Ash understands the gentle touch to be a sign of wanting to know her better, wishing she wouldn't hold back. The Vixen has seen the scar, but has not asked. Likewise, the silent prayer remains a secret until Ash chooses to share it. "Her girl" will accept and support Ash, whatever she says.
All that seems clear from Addy's tone andher touch.
Addy does ask one question. "What was his name?"
|
|
"That is very helpful," Ahto replies to Vekkel. "We will have to do something to bait it out of its hole and into the open. Perhaps we should bring a goat, or else trap a deer along the way."
"Do you happen to know anything about the monster bullfrog?" he asks the hunter after a moment, picking the man's brain for information.
"Once you tromp south through the forest and reach the Skunk River, things get really swampy," Vekkel explains, pausing to spit into the dirt. "Lots of nasty stuff in there, monster bullfrogs included."
He plops down upon a box to rest his good leg as he continues.
"There's also frog folk in the swamp. Big, bulging eyed brutes that walk like men," he adds with a hint of creeping fear in his voice. "'Course, they usually keep to the Hooktongue Slough to the west. In fact, I hears they been causing so much trouble along the East Sellen that trade along the river's been cut for months."
Vekkel, perhaps noticing something in the set of Ahto's distinctive jaw or a heroic glint in the Vixen's eye, behind her mask, the hunter holds up his knotty fingers and urges caution.
"Now don't be thinking about gallivanting all that way! That's ways past the Greenbelt, and it ain't been bothering us none in this region. 'Sides, Rostland sent one of them other bands to deal with the Slough, right? Anyhow," he says, calming slightly, "I imagine one of them frog folk might've found his way east, and now he's haunting the swampier parts of the woods. Maybe he's whipping up the local frogs, and they spend their nights whooping and croaking and raising all kinds of ruckus."
The Vixen asks, "How big a frog we talking? Walk-like-man-sized or way bigger, like a wyvern?" She has a bow* on her shoulder, but of course her boots are her true weapons.
She wonders if the eight-legged creature knows how to kick.. "Same question allies to the giant spider."
*Anout the bow, VV wonders if the Stag King's bow is enchanted.
"Well, I've never seen the frog folk, and I thank the gods for that," Vekkel says with a confident nod. "I have seen the giant bullfrogs that lurk around the pools along the bends of the Skunk, though. I've always kept a distance, though. I swear, those slimy beasts were the size of bears!"
As for the spider, the hunter repeats the description he offered before: describing it as red and black and the size of a pony.
The Vixen says, "I take it ye mean the frogfolk're walking, talking human-sized frogs, and the bear-size bullfrog's more like an animal.
"O' the bullfrog and spider, do either—or both, for the matter—pose a threat to people? Preventing innocent death's me priority."
"I've heard stories of them giant bullfrogs eating travelers and trappers who stray too far west," Vekkel explains, stroking his stubbly chin. "I know for sure that the spider has eaten more than one person. It lairs along a game trail, so not only do animals run afoul of the beast, but the hunters that track them sometimes do, too."
"Well... both seem just as deadly, and've tasted men's blood. So far as I'm concerned, we do the world a favor either way." She turns to Wonky. "I may be a Huntress' daughter, but me expertise ends at loosing arrows. Ye're the resident brainiac on nature, and pretty much everything. Which beast ye think we should take out?"
|
|
Wonky stands on a stool in her makeshift lab, pots and pans not crafted for potion-brewing bubbling away at every open surface. Wonky makes a scribble on a well-stained piece of parchment. Sprocket lies curled up in a corner, snoring and twitching his paws in contented slumber. Suddenly, he woofs and sits up, staring at the door.
A hesitant knock comes. Addy sticks her tousled red curl-topped head in the door. Sprocket thumps his stumpy tail on the ground in greeting.
"Addy! It is very good to welcome you. Watch your clothes; I would be loathe to have you dip any of your finely-crafted wear in my pots. I apologise for holing myself up so frequently since our return from the Stag Lord's fort - I had some work that just insisted upon being completed. I am somewhat closer to the middle of my list now," she says with disdain, glancing around the calamitous mound of projects ongoing.
"What have you brought along with your visit?" the ever-curious gnome asks, peering at the leathery bundle in the vigilante's arms.
Whether Wonky poses or not, or finds Addy's advice on posing helpful or not, Addy starts drawing. She asks, "What am I to do with meself for the next three days? I got all this wyvernhide, and here's a gal that came up with the brilliant plan to keep the beast on the ground where the Vixen can kick it.
"So ye're the first to don its hide... I mean, once I design the outfit for ye. I don't recommend armor though. Find a smith for that. I do gowns, hats, lingerie—a wyvernhide bra might look good if ye wear it with warpaint, and little else. If ye're not into the amazon thing, I do accessories too—purses, cloaks, gloves... might be able to pull off a quiver."
Addy gives Wonky time to respond while she sketches a base. She keeps eyeing Wonky, trying to get her proportions right.
The door to the trading post bursts open as a slight young man stumbles through the door. His neatly manicured bespectacled face lights up with joy when as he comes it. His clothing is clearly of very fine make.
He takes in the room and starts talking to the first person he see, barely pausing to breathe. "Is this Oleg's Trading Post? I've been traveling for weeks now. You see, I heard about a band of adventurers operating out of this area, and I was hoping to join up. Now, I don't have much practical experience, but I've studied all the local legends, and I have a firm grasp of the theoretical applications of arcane principles when applied to the adventuring vocation. I understand you might be reticent to take on someone that lacks the requisite experience, so I wrote you this essay for you laying out my qualifications and skills that I bring to your endeavors."
He holds out a sheet of paper covered in neat handwriting to whoever it is he happened to start talking to.
VV turns to the fashionable elf. She wonders if he's an eye for ladies' fashion. In addition to her vermilion qipao and thigh-high stiletto boots, VV is wearing a cloak of resistance customized with an accessory that suits her tastes as well as it flaunts them: a clasp depicting an image of two entwined succubi.
"Yeah, ye found the right place. They call me Miss Vixen. I'm the deputy 'round here, and'll admit I was short on experience meself just weeks ago. If it's adventure ye've come for..."
She gives the paper a quizzical look. "This a resume or... well, I s'pose if I read it, I've me answer, right?"
VV accepts the elf's paper.
"Holy, f~+!, ye've amazing penmanship. Ye happen to be a calligrapher?"
She gives it a read.
"A resume. Well, yes. I suppose it is. I trust it meets your no doubt exacting standards."
Harmond stands up, back rigid, in what you could only imagine he views as a military parade rest.
True to her word, Addy lets Wonky work in peace for the next hour. By then she has several designs. NONE are 'Little French Maid' type aprons. Despite Addy's words, she takes fashion design seriously. Some have belt buckles rather than strings, and one is supported by straps with shoulder pieces. It needs no adjustment to keep from slipping off. Other than supports, the apron itself has large pockets in front for tools and some smaller, cylindrical "pockets" along the waist. "These can hold vials," she explains, admitting she'll need to borrow an empty vial to make sure the proportions are correct.
In summary, Wonky chooses:
• support:
A. strings
B. buckles
C. straps that need not be tied or buckled
D. a combination
• pockets:
A. large pockets on front of apron for tools
B. small cylindrical pockets along waist for vials
C. both
D. none
• style: imagine something steam-punkish, but made almost entirely of wyvernhide with some metal parts that pass for bronze
Addy is willing to spend another hour on design if none of the options satisfy Wonky. She seems to be quite businesslike, and wants to make sure Wonky is satisfied with the design. If so, she assures she'll be "Done the day after tomorrow," and lets Wonky work in peace.
|
|
Ahto gives the Vixen a chance to read it before politely extending his hand to take the document.
He reviews it for a moment. "Your papers give no indication of reporting to Captain Garess for garrison duty, so there is certainly no need for military formality. My name is Ahto Ulrych, and I am the representative of the Church of Abadar in this endeavor. My duties are to bring bandits and highwaymen to justice, to establish order and commerce, and see to the necessary foundations of the country that will be. You are welcome, Harmond Orlovsky. Your family are known as skilled diplomats and negotiators, and your resume of skills are impressive." He offers the document to Wonky, should she care to read it. If she does not, he returns it to Harmond.
"You arrived at an opportune time; as the Vixen said, 'a bit of adventure.' One of our standing duties is to ensure the safety of those who would peacefully settle these lands. While that certainly includes ridding the area of bandits, it also means facing other threats. We have only recently dispatched a both a wyvern and an owlbear. Today, we plan to remove a giant trapdoor spider and to hunt down some sort of monstrous frog. If you wish to join us, don't unpack your things."
Harmond beams with excitement.
Realy?! I mean... of course! Why would you say no? My qualifications were adequate for your needs.
He looks up seeming suddenly to remember you were there.
Ok. Lets go! You won't regret this!
"I've no doubt. Welcome to the team, Harmond."
The Vixen is more than ready to ride out. As far as appearance goes, she appears to be prepared for ranged combat. But as some men gather horses, VV goes out of her way to give a soldier girl a peck on the cheek before riding off.
She gives the lass a friendly smile, and sweetly says to her, "Keep me in yer prayers." She brushes fingers to along her clasp.
"...and yer dreams." The fingers brush past succubus lips—"Romantic dreams."—along a succubus tail—"Intimate dreams."—off the clasp, VV's fingers pausing over her own heart. "Dreams of our future."
"And I'll pray for ye as well, Sweetie." Addy gives Ash the bow they used at the range on the day they met. She isn't sure whether the composite bow was too much for Ash's arm, so she says, "Practice with yer ol' bow and mine, and tell me yer preference when I'm back."
The Vixen still has one bow on her shoulder and a quiver with 20 arrows. She says, "I'm good to go."
Aside from the bow, she has no weapons on her, though her sizable purse (now worn like a backpack) could certainly fit a dagger inside.
Harmond looks up at Ahto with awe.
"A man of the cloth! How exciting! I suppose we've got nothing to worry about with Abadar on our side."
He looks over to Vixen and the Gnome.
And Miss Vixen being the deputy must be a great warrior. What is it you do Miss....? he says looking to Wonky.
The Vixen gladly accepts the compliment, but one thing she is decidedly not great at is horses. She decides a wordless smile and not falling on her butt in front of the new guy will suffice as acknowledgement of his kind words.
She tells Harmond, "I noticed—y'know, 'cause resume—ye're into books. They kept me company o'er a short-but-friendless period o' time. Me favorite author was a regular at the boutique." She says 'boutique' in a familiar way, but sticks to the topic of books. "Her name's Bond. Jane Bond. First-name basis, her and I, not that I'm boasting. Her Belle DeFleur novellas cater to a niche readership.
"When Wonky's done borrowing Book One... oh, right. Where're me manners? Wonky, Harmond; Harmond, Wonky." She adds, "Prong Junior," in case Harmond and Wonky are not on a first-name basis.
|
|
"Orlovsky is it? Please pardon my intrusive question before we are even properly introduced - yes, I am Wonky Prong, Jr - but are you of Ustalavic descent?"
The green-haired gnome in the well-used work apron gives a cursory glance at Harmond's letter of introduction before passing it back to Ahto.
"I studied at Lepidstadt," she explains before Harmond can reply. "I am a tinkerer and a bit of a brewer and a 'book spook', as they said on the grounds of the University."
"With which sorts of arcane magicks are you proficient?" she asks with a smile.
"I haven't read that one yet. I would very much like to read it when Miss Prong finishes!
Then he remembers his manners
"Oh, its a pleasure to meet you miss Prong"
|
|
** spoiler omitted **
Wonky chooses functional over flashy with respect to the shoulder straps (no buckles), and opts for both a single, large, wide pocket at the lower left-hand side of the apron as well as several small pockets for narrow cylinders across the waist.
"Thank you very much, Addy!" Wonky replies when the sketching/measuring has been completed. "I look forward to putting an element-resistant garment made form wyvern hide to the test when it has been completed."
She turns back to her brewing with a smile on her face.