|
Hrithik smiles at Spivey as she helps him with a tricky wedged piece of debris. "Thank you kindly. If I may, I had a question concerning the graveyard shrine we will leave behind us: Do you wish to take any of it with you, or leave it all here? In particular, there was a very valuable bowl that may not remain unmolested if it stays here long untended. Would you like us to stop by the graveyard as we depart so you can safekeep it to another shrine, or leave it here to the hands of Fate?"
"On my part, I accept your apology. Next time Makoa wakes, I will pass on the message," she says with a gentle smile.
She doesn't speak for a long while as she moves the debris. Finally, "You once asked me for honesty, so please take this in that spirit, not trying to change the subject out of childish frustration." Her voice is kind, but has an edge of annoyance at that memory.
A breath, "Who we are, how we think, and what we do is shaped by our past experiences, but those experiences do not excuse the actions in the present. Either we choose to fully accept the effect of our actions, or we try to mitigate them with excuses." She finishes. And continues working with no further comment, unless Hrithik says something more.
When Alaric finally takes Mel's hand, she feels the warm, golden glow of his healing flooding the injured flesh, knitting it back together.
He isn't looking at her, but he can probably sense the shudder that goes through her. And he most definitely can hear the small sound of pleasure that she makes. And when Myri and the others arrive, she is still decidedly green.
|
|
Mel gamely helps with alacrity, but the dark circles under her eyes and her quiet is clear evidence that she has been up for a long time and the activities of the previous day still wear on her.
"On my part, I accept your apology. Next time Makoa wakes, I will pass on the message [...] You once asked me for honesty, so please take this in that spirit, not trying to change the subject out of childish frustration." Her voice is kind, but has an edge of annoyance at that memory.
Hrithik seems thankful for the kindness, more thankful for the honesty, and somewhat tickled at the annoyance.
"Who we are, how we think, and what we do is shaped by our past experiences, but those experiences do not excuse the actions in the present. Either we choose to fully accept the effect of our actions, or we try to mitigate them with excuses."
Hrithik nods emphatically, resuming work. "Absolutely agreed. That was intended as an explanation, not as an excuse. Evil has no excuse, utterly natural though it is."
Hrithik helps start levering the next large piece of debris. "That brings me to the favor I still have to ask. I apologize that it will require some set up, but I don't expect you are familiar with Toragic Law and the rest of what it means for the apologies I just gave."
Hrithik continues, "There is a dwarvish religious tradition about apologies and atonement. Simply put, "sorry" is not enough. A sincere apology is necessary, but it is not sufficient. It is only the beginning. Afterward, an act of atonement must take place. After that, the sin must not be repeated. Or at least, effort must be made to repeat it less often, apologizing and atoning each time, until the error is no longer made."
Hrithik looks at the belt and amulet that Melinda bear. "For you and Mr. Godsfist, the proper atonement would be to get his side of the history some airing, so that fewer labor under ignorance. Since he is intimately connected to our Quest, and tales of this Quest have a chance to spread widely, a retelling of his history as part of that Quest would have fresh soil in which to spread. As I intend to pen some of those tales, I would appreciate the opportunity to gather information about him and Curchanus and incorporate them into your portion of the Chronicle. My efforts would be my atonement, and my failure to express unthinking Orc bigotry in the future would complete my apology."
Hrithik pauses for a moment. What he has to say is hard, but he is committed to saying it. "I am not as well equipped to make another atonement I need to incorporate into another apology. In fear for the rest of you, I treated Miss Zaiobe as a potential and likely enemy every moment we were allied with her in this castle. That was unacceptable, worshipper of the Dark Wing and member of the Brinewall cult though she definitely was and is. She deserves an apology, and an atonement of epic scope."
Hrithik's hands manifest the Brinewall Vault Disks. "As part of the Chronicle, I intend to write the tale of the history and fall of this place, first and independently of the rest of the Chronicle. If I write the usual tale, with the information we have, the normal sweep of history would have all of the details of the cult washed away as thoroughly as the Temple to Desna is being cleansed now. They would be remembered solely as evil, conflated with the genocide, used as a rallying cry for fear, and otherwise forgotten."
Hrithik's hands deftly reabsorb and hide the Disks, but his face looks deeply ashamed. "Everything I taunted the Cult Priestess with, essentially, is about to become true, as far as the historical record is concerned. Unless I can make an atonement. But my ability to make that atonement is hostage to the justified anger of the only eyewitness. She is not speaking to me."
Hrithik turns to Melinda and bows. "The favor I would ask of you is this. In the course of making a proper apology to Miss Zaiobe, I would appreciate your support in asking her to share her witness of her time here, and her understanding of the history of everyone slain yesterday. In such time as she is comfortable giving it. In return, as part of my atonement, and the good thing to do, I would include their history as part of the Chronicle just as I include Mr. Godsfist's."
perception
sense motive
Mel slows her pace to allow the main group to pull ahead. Assuming that Alaric keeps pace he sees her pull a pickle from her shirt pocket. She throws it into the tangle of foliage with a small almost suppressed shudder.
She looks at him, "Thank you for telling me about the message you carved."
He colors a bit. "I wasn't sure how you'd react to that. I sort of got the impression you were a Desna worshiper yourself, and yes, I probably should have asked at some point, but religion's a weird subject for me, and I didn't want to sour things between us. I thought you might be a little angry that I was committing a petty act of vandalism. But I'd rather be honest and make you a little mad than lie to make my life easier."
A shrug. "I don't want to force people into my way of thinking. That's... that's religion. I'm no example, but maybe some kid will read that, listen to the words from the pulpit, think about what they mean, and act on the conclusions. If that means he or she becomes a priest of Desna, fine. If it means he or she becomes an atheist, even better."
Then, a sleepy grin. "Besides, I'm not going to clean up a church without altering it a little."
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
Sometime after the caravan has started rolling along Kalimac will strike up a conversation with Tollin. Probably while driving the wagon; talking to pass the time.
"I was a little under the weather when you showed up, but I seem to recall something in your introduction about your horse getting spooked and running off." Although spoken as a simple repetition of a fact, there's a hint of a question in Kalimac's statement. As if he can't fathom riding anything that would get spooked by something as mundane as thunder.
Lio does not join the party cleaning the castle shrine.
Mel is noticeably confused by Hrithik's amusement at her annoyance. However, she wouldn't ask nor say anything about it.
She nods when he is done speaking, indicating that she heard everything he said, even if she doesn't think that in her current, tired state that she can respond to everything. "Irori has a different path. You are responsible for your actions and for your own vows. Failing either does happen, forgiveness is given. No atonement is sought or needed, all that is required is for the transgressor to do better in the future. Words... are not a part of this, just action. Choose to fail enough and you have broken your faith."
"I cannot speak for either Makoa nor Zaiobe, but for the first I will ask. For the second, I can ask... but." She stops trying to think of how to explain something that makes so much sense to her, but that doesn't seem to occur to the older man. "You... don't need her voice to write the record that you wish to. What we learned, says a great deal of their story... at least at the points where we intersected with it."
"If you truly want to share good faith with Zaiobe, maybe you could try to see things from both sides... Write that story, share it with her. It may be the wrong story, but a willingness to see through another eyes is..." she shrugs, her mind not able to express more than that in its battered state.
Kalimac did join the cleaning crew. Although it is probably clear to those watching him that he's doing it out of a sense of duty, and that he has things he'd rather be doing. Regardless he refuses to let himself do any less than his full share, and--once the camaraderie kicks in--starts to enjoy the labors.
Sometime after the caravan has started rolling along Kalimac will strike up a conversation with Tollin. Probably while driving the wagon; talking to pass the time.
"I was a little under the weather when you showed up, but I seem to recall something in your introduction about your horse getting spooked and running off." Although spoken as a simple repetition of a fact, there's a hint of a question in Kalimac's statement. As if he can't fathom riding anything that would get spooked by something as mundane as thunder.
Tollin looks slightly embarrassed. Yeah, I had stopped for a rest around noon the day before I caught up with the caravan. I was eating some rations and letting my horse take a rest when I saw a squirrel. I thought it would make a nice dinner that night. I tried to hit it with a rock but missed and the damn thing just chittered at me. So I shot at it with one of my pistols. Well the horse did not like the sound of my gun going off and ran away. Worst thing is that it had most of my gear still on it.
Tollin gives a small shrug.
** spoiler omitted **
Again there is a slight pause before Tollin's reply. Thank you very much. Tollin stands and waits for Lio's return.
Again there is a slight pause before Tollin's reply. Thank you very much. Tollin stands and waits for Lio's return.
** spoiler omitted **
Lio leaves, and moments later comes back with some rolled up parchment. She offers it to Tollin.
She smiles, "Well... intended or not, it was appropriate for her church." She stops, obviously just realizing something, "Oh... I'm sorry. I should have realized that you wouldn't want to participate in that." She looks down at her feet, "I wasn't thinking of that part of you... I... just wanted some time alone with you to talk. And to just be with you. Without having to worry about anyone listening and..." She looks up at him.
He thinks for a moment, glances behind them into the brush and then: "So... um... about that pickle. Can I ask?"
Tollin looks slightly embarrassed. Yeah, I had stopped for a rest around noon the day before I caught up with the caravan. I was eating some rations and letting my horse take a rest when I saw a squirrel. I thought it would make a nice dinner that night. I tried to hit it with a rock but missed and the damn thing just chittered at me. So I shot at it with one of my pistols. Well the horse did not like the sound of my gun going off and ran away. Worst thing is that it had most of my gear still on it.
Tollin gives a small shrug.
Not wanting to embarrass his new companion further, Kalimac restrains himself from loud laughter. Instead he simply smiles. "I take it you didn't get yourself a properly trained horse, then. I mean one trained for battle. I'll tell you what. Next time you have a chance to obtain a new horse, let me have it for a week. I'll give it back to you properly trained and able to withstand the sound and fury of pitched battle. Even your 'gun' shouldn't scare it off."
"Hrithik asked me to help him move some of the broken masonry, and he apparently wanted to apologize to Makoa and Zaiobe. During the conversation, he tried to slip the pickle in my pocket without my noticing... He did the same thing to Reta last night when we got back to the caravan." Careful consideration, "I don't like being treated as an amusing child any more than Reta does."
Alaric's expression grows thoughtful. Perhaps even fearful. "What... um... what does Makoa think of me?"
A pause, "The exact words he said was, 'Understand. But do not be overwhelmed. I am here to help you.'" A pause. "'So is he.'"
Not wanting to embarrass his new companion further, Kalimac restrains himself from loud laughter. Instead he simply smiles. "I take it you didn't get yourself a properly trained horse, then. I mean one trained for battle. I'll tell you what. Next time you have a chance to obtain a new horse, let me have it for a week. I'll give it back to you properly trained and able to withstand the sound and fury of pitched battle. Even your 'gun' shouldn't scare it off."
Tollin looks at the halfling sitting next to him and smiles, I would appreciate that. It would have been worse if I had needed to shoot from the saddle and the thing had bucked me off. After a bit of an awkward pause, Tollin doesn't seem very practiced at small talk. So..uh..how did you and Attatoq meet?
Unarmed tickle attack:
Lio leaves, and moments later comes back with some rolled up parchment. She offers it to Tollin.Again there is a slight pause before Tollin's reply. Thank you very much. Tollin stands and waits for Lio's return.
** spoiler omitted **
Tollin carefully takes the parchment from Lio, he seems to be afraid of startling her with a sudden movement. Thank you again. He then goes in search of someone with some ink and quills.
The burst of laughter from Mel carries, an obvious sign that she and Alaric are fine as they trail the group on the way back, again, from Brinewall.
magicy tickle attack:
Tollin carefully takes the parchment from Lio, he seems to be afraid of startling her with a sudden movement. Thank you again. He then goes in search of someone with some ink and quills.
Lio tries to smile. Yer w'lcom. She says, not unpleasantly. She looks curious as to his careful moves, considering that she's the one who upset him so much, just the day prior, with a touch. She looks after the people departing for the castle to clean. Sighs, and turns back to the wagon. She will get some ink and a pen for Tollin. She can also give him chalk, if he wants.
Hrithik smiles at Spivey as she helps him with a tricky wedged piece of debris. "Thank you kindly. If I may, I had a question concerning the graveyard shrine we will leave behind us: Do you wish to take any of it with you, or leave it all here? In particular, there was a very valuable bowl that may not remain unmolested if it stays here long untended. Would you like us to stop by the graveyard as we depart so you can safekeep it to another shrine, or leave it here to the hands of Fate?"
She shakes her head. thankyou, but bowl muststay. is holything, for hereonly. should be safe. sign has happened.
Alaric lets out a yelp followed by what can only be described as an agonized giggle.
By the time anyone looks back at the two of them, Alaric and Melinda are walking side by side, him flushed red, her green, clothes slightly disheveled.
"What? We're being dignified," says Alaric to any looky-loos.
At last, preparations for travel are complete. The wagons are ready, the horses are hitched, and with a crack of the reins, you are off, crossing the bridge over the Steam River into the lawless Nolands. Buttersnips and Zaiobe depart under their own means of transport, although Zaiobe says she may check in every now and again.
The planned caravan route will take the group through frozen, desolate lands fraught with peril and hidden dangers. It is not long before you start to glimpse some of the larger predators of the region, such as bears and mountain lions. But these tend to shadow the caravan for a mile or so before losing interest and searching elsewhere for easier prey. The caravan is large and well-armed, and you probably have little to fear from the typical creatures that stalk the wild fringes of northern civilization. The barbaric Nolander tribes that haunt this bleak borderland usually prefer softer targets for their ambushes. But even so, the danger of attack by monsters or men still exists. While in the somewhat more civilized Linnorn Lands, you are these days as likely to meet an honest merchant as a vicious reaver (or, in more than one case, someone who is either depending on the day), the Nolanders are still nearly entirely dedicated to the ancient principles of blood, steel, and taking what you want from those who cannot resist you.
The ravens and sea birds of the region are plentiful overhead, and you can supplement your provisions with the occasional elk down in the hills and at the forest’s edge.
Your route from Brinewall to Kalsgard will pass through the Nolands and enter the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. It will take you north to the dwarven mining town of Kopparberget, the first real settlement on your route. From there you will take a trade route that runs west between Kopparberget and the city of Jol. But before you reach Jol, you will turn north once again into the Grungir Forest on a Caravan road.
That caravan road crosses the eastern neck of the Grungir until it reaches the bridge to Losthome, at which point the route follows the western bank of the Thundering River as it meanders north, connecting the many small settlements and steadings that stand upon the river’s banks. At the confluence of the Thundering and Rimeflow rivers, the trade route branches again, with one trail crossing the Skalsbridge and heading northeast toward Trollheim while the other continues along the Rimeflow to Kalsgard.
Traveling the hundreds of miles from Brinewall to Kalsgard will, in total, take about two weeks if there are no delays.
Mel hops out of the women's wagon, catching herself from a stumble somewhat clumsy for her. Based on her walking, she is near asleep on her feet. It takes her a little bit of time, especially if the uncleric is scouting away from the caravan. Assuming she manages to find him...
"Wanted to say g'night." She looks up at him, taking in his skin pallor and the deep circles under his eyes. "Feel guilty since you didn't..."
|
|
"I cannot speak for either Makoa nor Zaiobe, but for the first I will ask. For the second, I can ask... but. You... don't need her voice to write the record that you wish to. What we learned, says a great deal of their story... at least at the points where we intersected with it. If you truly want to share good faith with Zaiobe, maybe you could try to see things from both sides... Write that story, share it with her. It may be the wrong story, but a willingness to see through another eyes is..."
Hrithik neither nods nor shakes his head. "That is why I need her perspective, otherwise it is not fair to both sides. I have all of our names, all of our backgrounds. I can fairly spend time on each of our gifts, each of our goals. But for them?"
"I have Nindinzego's last words, which are not dignified. If the mocking laughter of our healer was a guide, when I decipher the rest of Nindinzego's words, they will not be dignified either. I have Kikonu's rhymery, which is insipid and insightful and insane. So the two attack-on-sight villains have luxurious richness and macabre detail. Their story will be remembered. And mocked. And pilloried as a travesty of gruesome, monstrous beasts."
"But the Corbies? The Ettercap? The Priestess? They don't even have names. They don't have backgrounds. They don't have goals. They just get ordered to attack, and die. It is not fair to their side nor their memory. The only one who remembers anything of them, the only one who can share a redeeming detail or twenty, is Miss Zaiobe. If she cannot share more, my balanced story will read of adventurers who snuck in and stunned the first Corby, then slaughtered the whole nest but felt somewhat bad about it and cleansed a Shrine, versus demonspawn with confidence issues and mad teleporting shapeshifter genocidaires and demon cultists who defiled a Shrine and are so poorly described they are interchangeable ciphers."
"Does that sound fair to their side? Because that is all I have. I can describe their cave and their treasure and their attack methods, but without Miss Zaiobe's witness I cannot describe them, and they will be forgotten in a generation. That is what happened to the orc perspective of every orc group who was lost: it also got lost, entirely, with little written record, and it died out with the death of the speakers to carry the perspective forward."
she shrugs, her mind not able to express more than that in its battered state.
Hrithik looks at Melinda with concern. "Do you need rest? You look more exhausted with every effort. Trouble sleeping? A new illness? Are you a shapeshifter?"
The first day out of Brinewall, Lio is driving a wagon, likely one of the supply ones, that doesn't carry too many people.
Your route from Brinewall to Kalsgard will pass through the Nolands and enter the Lands of the Linnorm Kings.
Hrunndalf feels more and more at home as the days grow ever so slightly cooler and the land rougher, with names ringing familiar in his ears. Though he is hoping to avoid meeting people he knows from his youth, and displays a certain embarrassment at the lawless state of affairs in these lands, some of the old roots he left behind here are supplying him with a measure of renewed vigor and enthousiasm.
He intensifies the Skald lessons for whoever is interested, which now includes Rhost. He recruits the aid of Kelda if she is so inclined.
Three words he insists on teaching even to those who do not intend to learn the tongue. Súrum gúrkum. Skeiðar. Eldi.
In case there should be need to deal with the locals, Hrunndalf makes sure to ride with the foremost wagon.
Three words he insists on teaching even to those who do not intend to learn the tongue. Súrum gúrkum. Skeiðar. Eldi.
This sits well with Rhost, who is primarily interested in cooking terms and pejoratives -- although he listens attentively to everything else.
"So," she says. "How come we never talk?"
"So..." she says, neither particularly loudly nor particularly quietly. "Violent sex?"
Tollin looks at the halfling sitting next to him and smiles, I would appreciate that. It would have been worse if I had needed to shoot from the saddle and the thing had bucked me off. After a bit of an awkward pause, Tollin doesn't seem very practiced at small talk. So..uh..how did you and Attatoq meet?
"Oh, the usual. It was on a caravan like this. I was scouting around after the evening meal and found him. He was a pup and had been orphaned. I took him back with me, and we've been inseparable since." "How about you? How did you start getting involved with such an unusual weapon?"
Shalelu beside you, alternating picking out targets with you.
Treestump. Branch. Each others' already shot arrows.
Increasing the difficulty step by step.