Katrine watches Pelipe and the locals wistfully. She likes ale too, but one look at her eyes and fingernails might turn Glowerhaven against them again. So she waits outside with the others, taking the time to brush the tangles and dried mud out of Storm's fur.
"We can just tether her horse's bridle to the back of one of our saddles until she's sobered up. Like with my pack mule." The ranger nods toward the animal in question, snoozing under a tree with her mount.
Althea lets a silence hang around her as she considers the oath proffered by Lord Ahto. She purses her lips and thinks deeply for a few moments. Finally, she speaks.
"So be it, then," she says, parroting Ahto's own words. "I swear to serve Tamlyn and its people faithfully, and to the best of my ability. I swear not to attempt escape, sabotage, or duplicity of any sort, lest my life be forfeit.
"Satisfied?" she asks, tilting her head before allowing a coy smirk to spread across her face like an unsheathed dagger.
Meanwhile, in a demonstration of extremes, for as much as Althea and Vark were (until minutes ago) the villains of the village, you find that Pelipe has suddenly become the hero of Glowerhaven.
"And she didn't even dramatically snap a log with her leg. Tsk, tsk," Althea rues sarcastically, turning her eyes to the Vixen.
It was not easy exiting the pub. Being jostled, pushed, groped, shuffled into the smaller doorway, it was a wonder she wasn't hurt more. Perhaps it was because she was so heroic in their eyes? Clearly, the building was not meant for the whole of the town and now free, she is glad to be done with it. Now that the exhausted mage finds relief and fresh air, she welcomes VV's support by sliding a slender hand into hers and using the strength of the Vixen to lift her up. Her palm is hot to the touch, yet her fingers are freezing cold; as though the blood has fled from them.
Fortunately for both, the ale hasn't hit her quite so hard yet and so while the looming threat of dizziness and drunkenness are not far off, she is okay for the moment. Pelipe does seem hurt, however, and clutches her hand over her old wound. Too much excitement...," she thinks while she struggles to right herself. Thankfully, she is able to with VV. Battling the crowds seemed little different to her body than her battling for real, and not long after, warmth rushes back to her fingertips.
In answer to her new friend, she comments, "I'll be fine...I don't want to delay us."
The mason will walk clear away from Althea to her horse and then mutter to VV quietly, "I was just very nervous about having such a crowd near to you know who..." indicating Katrine, "it was a worthy sacrifice."
From her tone, it seems it actually was intended to be a sacrifice of money. It just didn't end up going as planned. Perhaps the act is even more sacrificial now that she was hurting?
The cooler air hits her face and now Pelipe can feel the warmth radiating in her cheeks and up her bosom. No doubt they both share a reddish hue on the creamy sheets of her skin. There is a moment when she considers asking for help up onto her horse, but then Althea presence makes her reconsider. Pelipe's supporting hand even lowers from her side at this thought. No weakness will be shown in this snake's presence.
Since she was in the pub, she doesn't know what has transpired and comments on what she is seeing. Once it is made clear that Althea has sworn service to Ahto, it makes her wonder what the gnome has intentions of. Quickly she mounts her horse and establishes herself in the saddle, however, the wave of sickness that follows makes her head spin. There she will sit with eyes closed, attempted with all her strength to maintain composure and not throw up before the others, and Ahto in particular. She also finds she is rubbing her reddened face in an attempt to keep consciousness as they ride out.
To Althea’s playful tsk-ing, the Vixen replies, “Fact o’ life: buying drinks’ll always make ye more popular than the girl who broke the town phallus.”
She stands close to Katrine as Pelipe manages to get herself up on that horse. She speaks to her very quietly, preferably as hoofclops and other sounds are going so overheard words don’t undermine Pelipe’s show of strength and I’m-okayness. “Maybe we ride close to her? She falls off, I go for Pelipe, ye go for her horse?” The Vixen’s whisper carries a tone of uncertainty and concern, contrasting the overconfidence she normally projects.
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Ahto regards Althea for a moment, wondering if the Asmodean found a gap in the oath she plans on exploiting at an opportune moment.
He then turns his attention to Vark. "So, Master Vark, it is time for you to make your choice. Will you pledge yourself to the same oath, or do you choose to remain a bound prisoner until such time you are brought to trial?"
The mason will walk clear away from Althea to her horse and then mutter to VV quietly, "I was just very nervous about having such a crowd near to you know who..." indicating Katrine, "it was a worthy sacrifice."
"I appreciate it, Pelipe. This town makes me nervous." The ranger hovers nearby as Pelipe mounts her horse, just in case the drunken mage slips.
She stands close to Katrine as Pelipe manages to get herself up on that horse. She speaks to her very quietly, preferably as hoofclops and other sounds are going so overheard words don’t undermine Pelipe’s show of strength and I’m-okayness. “Maybe we ride close to her? She falls off, I go for Pelipe, ye go for her horse?” The Vixen’s whisper carries a tone of uncertainty and concern, contrasting the overconfidence she normally projects.
Katrine nods to the Vixen, grateful for the help in ensuring Pelipe's safety. She replies in the same low tone. "Sounds like a plan to me. Hopefully I can calm the horse if it gets agitated."
Ahto reads Althea's smirk as a sign that the Chelish noblewoman is scheming how she can turn the situation to her advantage. Even without the benefit of divine magic allowing him to pierce through lies, Ahto can discern that this does not mean she is plotting to betray or harm you. Rather, she likely imagining how she can make the best out of this bad situation.
Meanwhile, Vark gives an exaggerated startle when Ahto turns the attention back upon him.
"Are those my only two options?" the bleachling exclaims. "While you and Lady Thrune there obviously have a dirty bit of history, I've done nothing to you! Or to these villagers! What crime have I committed?"
“Are ye kidding me?” The Vixen doesn’t hide her annoyance, but does keep her language clean. And… softens her tone. “Ye were scared. I get it. But are ye gonna deny that ye’d’ve let Miss Thrune die screaming as seared flesh melted off her sizzling bones? I can’t imagine the pain o’ burning at the stake, but I’m sure those unfortunate to’ve died that way had seconds to contemplate the true meaning of the word agony.
“Seconds’re eternities to the tortured.”
The Vixen isn’t threatening Vark, but her intent is that her words paint and accurate picture of the horror which would’ve been the direct result of the blighted gnomes own cowardice and false witness.
A chill goes up Pelipe's spine at the threats of the Vixen. Her eyes roll a moment to a closed position as she intensifies her resistance of inward focus to keep the loaf of ale in her gut from coming up.
"Please stop talking about melting flesh. I beg of you."
Pelipe will abandon her aides for the relief of wind and will trot her horse a little further down the road in an effort to get that breeze in her face.
Whatever the party decides on the fate of the gnome, she leaves it to their capable hands.
Her lips contort in embarrassment as she replies to Pelipe, “Sorry. Fire hurts.” Her masked eyes narrow as her gaze returns to Vark. “A lot.”
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Wonky cocks her head at the exaggerated emotional expression from the bleachling gnome. She moves to Ahto and murmurs sotto voce.
"I have extensive personal experience in dealing with gnomes suffering from the Bleaching. One of the key symptoms of that dread illness is a progressive and pervasive lack of emotional responsiveness."
Wonky leaves it at that. She then startles and notices her new colleague's suffering constitution.
"I can assist with your delicate situation, Pelipe." The gnome busies herself with some vials off of her bandolier, mixing up an infusion that she hands over to the arcanist.
"It is best if you swallow the entire quaff rapidly," the gnome instructs Pelipe.
Again, the Vixen’s mouth grits in an awkward crescent. She hears out Wonky’s explanation and mutters, “That does explain the cowardice, lacking empathy, insufficient choice of hiding place, denial o’ wrongdoing…”
She turns to Katrine. “He’s still a dick.” She puts her hands on her hips.
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Ahto listens to Wonky and nods. "Very instructive, Miss Prong. Thank you." He looks back to Vark and after a few moments says, "You are, by your own admission, guilty of making a false accusation of a capital crime. There are many kingdoms where such crime would warrant a death sentence, and it would be well within the spirit of justice to hand you over to the people of Glowerhaven and let them carry on with this spectacle." He pauses a moment to let his words sink in. "However, there is a better use for you than burnt meat at the center of a pyre. My fellow Councilor, Miss Prong, is doing research on an illness that plagues your people. Therefore, I am placing you in indenture to her alone. No others of the Ruling Council, including myself, may compel you to do any labor, save fighting for the common defense of Tamlyn or our party. You will aid Miss Prong in her research, doing whatever she requires of you. Failure to comply will result in your return to the custody of the people of Glowerhaven. Do you understand, and accept the terms of this sentence?"
Pelipe will look to the gnome as she sorts through her vials. The fact the gnome just downed an odd mushroom without knowing what it would do does not fill her with confidence.
"Oh...okay," she voices weakly. It clearly is affecting her all the more now. Her eyes, once sharp now are hazed, reddish, and wet.
She almost loses hold of the vial when handed it, but somehow manages a firm grip both on her horse's saddle and by pressing her knees tight against the leather of it to keep from falling. Without hesitation, she quaffs the mixture quickly with shakey breath.
A moment later, the mage licks her lips.
"It's not as bad as I was expecting...I've had worse."
Even as she is speaking, what once was slightly slurring words become clear and she is herself once more.
"Very nice. Thank you!" she answers sweetly, unknowing that it merely is only delaying her drunkenness at this point. With care, she returns the vial to its owner with its cap. Wonky will notice that Pelipe's breathing is returning to normal, but is still slightly labored from the experience. In a few moments even that fades.
The Vixen's harangue causes Vark to recoil. In fear, he shrinks upon himself, clutching his arms and shoulders close.
"But...but..." he repeatedly, meekly attempts to interject as the party grandly speaks over him.
However, a sharpness appears in his eyes when Lord Ahto mentions Wonky's research into the Bleaching. This results in his voice excitedly rising in pitch and his posture seemingly adding inches to his height as he springs forward and eagerly agrees to the terms put forth by Ahto. He swears the oath with such enthusiasm that one would suspect he'd never wanted anything else so much in his life.
Thus, the party is joined by two indentured traveling companions. With Wonky's panacea quickly returning Pelipe to her full faculties, the party is free to continue into the Embreth Forest, in search of both the enigmatic town of Uringen and a lurking coven of hags.
Once they're out of sight of the town, Katrine pushes her hood back and takes a deep breath. "Finally! Now, where to first? The hag coven or Uringen?"
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Ahto accepts Vark's oath, then marks both he and Althea with the 'I' of Indenture on their faces, as he did with the former brigands. .
"The pain is only temporary, but a necessary step in the repayment of your respective debts," he says, as he adds their names, crimes, and sentences to the official records.
Once he has completed the proceedings, he addresses the group. "We will find the hags, assess the threat they pose, and then deal with them accordingly. Once that matter is resolved, we will push on to Uringen."
He looks to Pelipe. "Miss Lightdriver, you are welcome to ride in the carriage. Miss Prong's modifications to the struts should make it a less jostling experience than a saddle. It may be preferable, until you feel the physical effects of your diplomatic efforts have abated."
The Vixen mounts Dawn and says, “Yeah… I feel like riding bareback a bit. Maybe ye can relax, chat it up with Ahto, and I’ll help Katrine lead yer horse along.”
To Katrine she confesses, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing when it comes to animals. So by help I mean whate’er ye say, I’ll do without question… y’know, in regard to minding horses.”
"I actually feel fine right now thanks to Miss Prong, I would not wish to intrude."
She shoots a glance to VV as her own sensibilities betray opportunities to get to know the Lord of the land. However, when the effects of the spell begin to wear thin, she feels as though no time has passed. She was right back where she was previously . It is at that time, she will take up Lord Ahto's offer to ride in the carriage.
It is clear to those within the carriage that she struggles increasingly with each moment that passes. In true honorable fashion, she manages to keep her inebriation to a bare minimum of outward appearance. At one point, however, at the summit of the feeling, she takes in a sharp breath and bends forward to place her face in her hands, regardless of what Ahto thinks of her. There she will sit for a good little while seeking comfort within her mind and body. Eventually, such feelings will fade and she is able to continue on normally. At that point, she will wish to take full advantage of getting to know the Lord Ahto and his likes and dislikes.
Who do you revere most (other than Abadar)?
Do you plan to pass on the sword that was found to your children someday?
What do you envision Tamlyn looking like in the future?
Can you describe your capitol? What does it look like?
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What is your upbringing?
"We were merchants. My parents ran a general store, and when I was old enough, I helped as I could, stocking shelves, sweeping the floor and running errands. My parents were murdered when I was a youth. Their deaths, probably more than anything set the path of my life."
Who do you revere most (other than Abadar)?
"Justice. Those who are hardworking, forthright and honest should rightfully prosper. Those who seek to leech a living off others through violence or the threat of it, through lies and deceit, or by theft deserve no prosperity, and should face the consequences of the harm they inflict on the innocent. Those who cannot support themselves should be cared for, but the lazy and shiftless, who refuse to contribute, but demand a share of what others have worked for, deserve nothing but contempt."
Do you plan to pass on the sword that was found to your children someday?
"The sword should go to someone worthy. Someone who understands that it, and the office it signifies, is a burden not a privilege. If that worthy person were my child, I would thank Abadar that I had not failed to be a good father and role model. However, I would not hesitate to relinquish the blade to someone more worthy who was not of my line. Character matters far more than blood."
What do you envision Tamlyn looking like in the future?
"A just and prosperous country, where lawlessness is so rare as to make criminal trials an anomaly."
Can you describe your capitol? What does it look like?
"Horace, as a town, is still in its infancy. I am certain the Lords of Restov or the nobles of Cheliax would find it rustic and provincial. However, we have yet to even celebrate our first anniversary as a nation. All things considered, it is a wonderful, promising place."
"How do you propose to handle criminal trials? With a judge? Multiple judges? Yourself?"
"Do you ever take some time to enjoy the fruits of your labor, or is your life only ever jumping from one mission to another?"
"Have you thought on a plan for how to gain the respect and alliance with of those at your borders?"
"Do you feel that having safer roads or safer cities is more important?"
"Are my questions bothering you?"
Pelipe will allow him to ask things of her, but will not force him or provoke the conversation that direction. If he is interested in her, wanting to get to know her more, he will have to take charge in that manner.
The Vixen rides with Katrine, letting Pelipe chat with Ahto without herself getting in the way.
She speaks her mind to distract herself from the general discomfort she has when it comes to animals. Oddly, she rides bareback, which is what riders to for their horses and certainly not for themselves.
“Me mother taught me to ride like this,” she tells Katrine. “Mother and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot o’ things… but she always knew me better than I knew meself. And there was always love.
“I guess for you, it’s yer stepmother that provided that sort o’ nurturing.”
She hesitates a bit, then finally says, “I can’t imagine what it’s like for ye… I wish I had the right words. Y’know, that sensitive thing ye’re supposed to say. But they don’t make sympathy cards that say ‘heard yer mom’s a hag; condolences.’
“So… the hell with sympathy.” She looks Katrine in the eye—then gets her eyes back on the road for fear she’ll trot into a ditch and overturn her horse. But she glances at Katrine at least twice more as she says with conviction, “Ye’re yer father’s daughter. He’d the strength to raise ye well with a wife who, from the sound of it, treated you as her own daughter. Ain’t a chance yer hag mother’ll beat that with her hag magic.
“Ye weren’t a babe left on a doorstep, growing up wondering why her nails grow out like that.” The Vixen’s glance lingers on Katrine’s nails, emerald eyes a bit greener than usual from the envy. “Yer parents brought you up with love and armed ye with the truth. I ain’t saying ye should underestimate this hag magic… but don’t go the other extreme and underestimate yerself.”
The Vixen does not take her own advice when it comes to riding. No amount of evidence will convince her she’s not the worst rider of all time. Eyes on the road. Steady. Easy, girl. Godsdammit, me ass hurts…
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"How do you propose to handle criminal trials? With a judge? Multiple judges? Yourself?"
"We have already held several trials, mostly brigands. My fellow councilors have largely deferred to me in these matters, but I have tried to make it clear that their input is valued, and the insights they offer carry weight in my verdicts."
"Do you ever take some time to enjoy the fruits of your labor, or is your life only ever jumping from one mission to another?"
"Despite the considerable amount of work accomplished since our Fouding, we have had occasion to celebrate. We just recently celebrated the Crystalhue Festival, and we also have a functioning Fest Hall near the town center in Horace. I try to be an active participant, so much as my duties allow. It is true, we have been frequently out on a seemingly never ending series of missions, but I believe that comes part and parcel with taming the wilds and establishing civilization. Once we have more infrastructure, such missions will be fewer and further between, and those that remain will be able to be delegated."
"Have you thought on a plan for how to gain the respect and alliance with of those at your borders?"
"That is one of the reasons we travel to Uringen. Our First Citizens charter was an important foundational element of Tamlyn, and we feel that it makes us an appealing potential ally. As for other countries, we will cross those bridges as we come to them. Our chances of winning their respect hinges more and more on the growth of our farms, marketplaces and military strength."
"Do you feel that having safer roads or safer cities is more important?"
"It is difficult to maintain true civilization without both. I would be hard pressed to place precedence of one over the other. People must feel safe in their homes and in the public spaces, but they must also feel safe to travel. Merchants and farmers, especially, must feel that they can bring their wares and produce to market without fear of highwaymen preying upon them, and stealing the fruits of their labors."
"Are my questions bothering you?"
Not at all, Miss Lightdriver. I am glad you have such an interest in our young nation. I certainly welcome any thoughts or recommendations you have on its administration."
Having addressed her questions, he then takes the opportunity to ask questions of his own.
"If it is not too forward of me to ask, could you tell us something of yourself. We you raised in the faith of Abadar, or did you convert later in life? What was life like in your home town? Are you still in touch with your family? How do they feel about your traveling out into the wilds?"
Were you raised in the faith of Abadar, or did you convert later in life? What was life like in your home town?
"Raised? Hmm...No. My parents were both too consumed with work and the mines to find time for faith. I will say that they did not oppose me seeking out Abadar, nor putting my faith in him. In fact, we saw a bit of increase in our business when I did, so they were grateful." At this she chuckles. "I do take it seriously though, even though I'm newer to the faith. I just think with my family, it is so easy to get distracted by our own nobility and forget the communities we serve."
What was life like in your hometown?
"Sadly I can't speak of New Stetven in-depth as we lived outside of the main metropolis in the Noble Quarter. Life is much different there than in the city. For me, because of my father's business with the mines to the Northwest in Highdelve, we frequently were host to dwarven companions and visitors. My own mentor was a dwarf. Life for me was fairly lax. I was able to pursue many hobbies and interests. My mentor, in fact, taught me how to sculpt very well. Art is one of my passions and I've spent a great deal fostering that when not in my schooling learning the arcane arts."
Are you still in touch with your family?
"Oh yes. Very much so. If were we not so pressed for time, I would have written letters to all my family back home. We don't always see eye to eye, but we are always extremely close to each other with knowing social events and happenings in each other's lives. Sometimes, too close. When we meet, it is as though no time has passed at all, despite the distances."
How do they feel about your traveling out into the wilds?
"Well...that is a sore subject. Most of my family would agree that it is wild behavior and not becoming of me. I will certainly pay for that if our enterprise in taming these lands fails. My parents would say that it is important that we establish relations with you all here. To be honest, though, they did feel that someone else should have been that representative. They worry for me. There is no doubt in my mind. I have my reasons and don't regret my decision. I only regret the lives lost along the way."
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Wonky suggests that Vark ride alongside her in the driver's seat of Ahto's wagon. Sprocket and Doo-dad sit on the bleachling's right.
"I have business in Uringen on behalf of my fledgling nation and as part of my office," Wonky begins, watching the road and not making eye contact with the gnome. "I also have my own research into the illness that lays our kind low. I am sure that you have your interests in this as well. We should become acquainted."
She leaves the invitation at that.
Katrine swallows hard, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. It takes her a few moments to respond. "Nobody... nobody outside my family has ever said something like that to me, Vixen." She wipes her face roughly. "Didn't think anyone ever would. And yes, Ma always treated me like her own. She's a wonderful person, and so is Pa." Taking a deep, albeit shaky, breath, she continues. "It's hard to have confidence when I grew up with the specter of the hag looming over me. Knowing she could be anyone, anywhere, except for the small folk. I'll try, though. If I can't find and kill her, I'll never be free."
Rowan whuffs and turns her head to try and look at her rider, sensing Katrine's tension. "Shh, girl, it's okay." She pats the mare on the neck. Satisfied, Rowan turns her attention back to the road ahead.
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"Stubbornness, more than most character traits, seems to have a neutral quality about it. It is much like a tool. It is beneficial when used properly and harmful when not. There is something admirable about the person who holds fast to their principles, and does not let the ever-changing stream of public opinion simply push them along. However, stubbornness can also blind one to evidence that does not support one's existing view, and that is ultimately to one's own detriment."
The Vixen wasn’t entirely sure she should’ve said it. I wonder how many others held back. I wonder how many more days I would’ve had I not been thinking o’ me own mother… From Katrine’s response, she’s glad she spoke up.
“Careful about letting a specter suck the joy out o’ yer life. For me, it was a dead man—a man I killed by me own hands. Maybe I’m stronger now because of him… but had circumstances been a tad different, me reckless path might’ve got me killed, or led me to become the very thing I hate.
“All because a predator wronged me friend—killed her at her most vulnerable moment.”
She dares to look at Katrine and not the road.
“The hag’s a predator. She could’ve taken the form of any floozy and there ain’t a shortage o’ men who’d take her offer even knowing the truth. Instead, she handpicked yer father because he’s honorable… think o’ what lengths it must’ve taken to trick him. Likely, she studied yer stepmother to complete the guise with an act.
“And if she means to come for ye… she’ll expect ye to fear her. And ye know what else I’ll bet she expects… self-loathing. I mean like she expects ye to despise the part o’ yerself that’s clearly from her.” The Vixen looks at Katrine’s hands. “But ye don’t… do ye?”
"My guess is that she went to the trouble of targeting an honorable man because she liked the thought of causing him and Ma pain. Hags enjoy making people suffer." Katrine looks down at her horse. "As for self-loathing... sometimes. Most days I see my changeling abilities as a weapon that she foolishly gave me. They're part of me, so I might as well use them, you know? It's useful being able to see in the dark. I'm a bit tougher than most, and the nails come in handy at times." She lets out a quiet sigh. "But there are bad days every so often. Being around animals helps. Especially Storm." The faithful wolfdog has seen her through a lot of hard times.
“Yer nails’re amazing.” The Vixen’s are underneath her gloves, too ordinary to display. Her masked eyes meet Katrines brown and green eyes. “And I didn’t know ye could see in the dark. Yer eyes’re lovely, too. Yer hag mother deserves yer loathing. You don’t.” She looks at the dog. “Storm’d tell ye the same if he could talk… or… she?
“No matter. We’re gonna start this battle against yer hag mother right now. First thing, ye don’t give her anything she wants. Ye love yer eyes, ye love yer nails, and yer dog o’ course—and since the hag wants ye to suffer, ye counter the bad days by having a bit o’ fun with yer life.”
The Vixen grimaces. “I didn’t take to this advice meself a couple years ago when I hated meself, men, most o’ the world, living… but, to be fair, the ‘fun’ I turned down was o’er the top, and setting meself up for overwhelming remorse. Treat yerself to simple pleasures that don’t wind up being self-destructive.” She lowers her voice a bit, “Like, avoid mushrooms and binge drinking… I’m thinking more like playing-ball-with-yer-dog Kinda fun.”
"I'm sure," she replies. "I do hope that wasn't offensive to you. I wasn't implying that my first thoughts of you were that you were like a stone. I just hadn't understood your mindset yet and you seemed very deep in thought at most times. Now, after seeing your judgments, mercy, and mind, I just notice more and more how..." "sweet" "thoughtful you can be."
Surely Althea can appreciate that. He had every right to lay out vengeance upon her and strike her down while she was bound up. Some would marvel at the fact he didn't. If Pelipe knew the old him personally, perhaps she would too, but he's been impressing her since she has met him many days ago.
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"Honest questions, asked in good faith do not offend me, Miss Lightdriver. People rarely ask of me on a personal level, an unavoidable hazard of my avowed profession and its duties. There are few, if any residents in Tamlyn who have not seen me either hang or behead a convict in the town square, although there have been far fewer occasions since the Stag Lord's own head fell from the block. I do not doubt that some mistakenly believe that I have taken on this responsibility out of some twisted lust for blood, death, and vengeance. Rather, it is the opposite. Murders, rapists, and brigands are like gangrenous flesh spreading through a healthy body. To save that body, it is often necessary to amputate, and remove the infection entirely. It is my hope that I do so as judiciously as a skilled surgeon, removing the rot, and preserving as much as possible."
He pauses a moment, then says, "I don't know if that answers your question or provides any meaningful insight. I have found that I occasionally miss the mark in casual conversation, as it is something I have had little practice with. If I have come across as a blathering fool, I apologize."
She hangs her head. It is clear this too is rather open, and even more so, a confession of the deepest parts of her heart from the look on her face.
Katrine chuckles at the memory of Wonky testing hallucinogenic mushrooms. "Don't worry about that, I prefer to have my wits about me. And Storm is a boy. I know it's hard to see with his winter coat." Indeed, Storm is a very fluffy boy right now. "As for the rest, I'll keep it in mind." She smiles slightly. "Thank you, Vixen."
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"Having strong convictions can spur one to act in moments of uncertainty, but that is not always for the best. There are times when caution and careful consideration are required. While you may be admiring Miss Vixen's decisive action, she may be silently berating herself for her quick temper and impetuousness. Each member of the Council brings a different perspective and areas of expertise to the situations we face. If you felt out of step today, it is quite possible you will have the clearest perspective of all another day."
"Wearing your heart openly invites many knives," Lady Thrune states, her clear voice piercing the forest air and abruptly cutting down the other conversations around her.
"Apologies. Simply a piece of common wisdom from home," she says with a sardonic smile. "I couldn't help but interject. After all, this is quite a new experience. I am unused to my traveling companions speaking so freely around their enemies."
She pauses for a precisely measured moment before sharply adding.
"Make no mistake: I don't mean myself, or even the lesser of our two gnomes," she says, cocking her head towards Vark.
She looks upon the crooked, mossy trees surrounding your procession as idly as she might observe exhibits in a gallery.
"Those wretchedly backward bumpkins we left behind may claim the fields and pastures around their moldering village, but these woods belong wholly to the hags that frighten them so. For all you know, any black-feathered bird or rustling shrub could be their eyes and ears. What will they learn of you before they allow you to find them, I wonder?"
“Good thing I didn’t mention me biggest weakness—”
She’s about to say ‘the love o’ dogs,’ but that would paint targets on Sprocket, Storm and Other Dog. She shifts to a different lie—
“—the chiseled chest o’ shirtless men!”
She isn’t sure that the hags would have their sons play off this, except to brazenly display they were listening. Brazenly and humorously.
Althea surely understands the Vixen is thanking her. …and VV could care less how her lie about attraction to men plays out, if at all. She’s just effin’ with the hags’ little spies.
Katrine simply shrugs, her earlier openness abandoned. "I didn't say anything that they couldn't figure out themselves, if they have half a brain between them. My issues are hardly unique among those who have a parent or ancestor hostile to humans. Changelings, half-orcs, tieflings, we have a lot in common." She smirks. "And I imagine many changelings go hag-hunting once they learn of their heritage. I just learned earlier than most."
"Of course you don't mean yourself..." she thinks with heavy irony in her mind and can't help but form a smirk at the woman's words. As Althea gives an example of the disguise capabilities of a hag, Pelipe thinks, "Or any backstabbing noble could be a hag...," but she miraculously holds her tongue.
Her companions jump ship to bash down Althea's musings, but Pelipe noticed that Vark and Wonky's conversation was interrupted rudely by the exchange.
"Althea, what is your experience with hags, the blight, and the bleaching? Why did you get hired and not someone more...capable?"
A not so subtle jab to be sure, but it was fair. Althea most certainly didn't look like the standard wilderness explorer Pelipe envisions.
"You don't seem Bleached," Vark says quietly to Wonky, suddenly remembering his voice. "Your colors are bright, even compared to your companions."
He sighs.
"You've come to the same conclusion as I, haven't you? The unstuck village? It's connection with the First World? You hope to see what its energies can do."
The corner of his mouth raises.
"Even if it's a hollow hope, it'll still be a whole town full of new people to visit pranks upon."[/b]
"I have no experience with them whatsoever," Althea states proudly, as though recounting part of her noble lineage. "When I caught that treacherous gnome visiting some mischief upon a foppish duelist and his second, that was my first encounter with a so-called Bleachling. I wanted to depart Mivon, and with no other destination readily presenting itself, I generously offered to accompany him on his fanciful quest for this bizarre village he keeps going on about."
Althea pauses to stretch her neck.
"As for the hags, I did not even know there was a coven active in this region until those bumpkins mistook me for one of them. Whilst I might've previously been content to go on my way and otherwise leave the hags be, now that I've been sworn into your service," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder, "I suppose I have no choice but to help you by visiting my vengeance upon these magical wretches."
She says this in an almost sing-song sigh, sarcastically feigning resignation for a duty that she not-at-all secretly looks forward to.
"I don't trust her one bit," Pelipe thinks to herself with a fake smile to Althea and her feigning resignations. "I suppose we are fortunate Lord Ahto's grace gave you the chance to show us what you can do. I would not begrudge you if you were to be cautious in the coming battle. You certainly seem capable with words, but are you skilled in combat? I'd hate to see you get hurt."
She is not being flippant here. Pelipe is actually fairly worried that this noblewoman is more proficient at sewing than swordplay or arcane arts.
As they ride forward, while speaking to Althea and Lord Ahto, she does keep an eye out for dangers or signs they are approaching.