Seeing that the others have things mostly well in hand, Edmund, Manari and Ingwe start back to the work they were doing before the new arrivals. The pretty Taldan woman approaches them smiling.
"Welcome to Newspring. I am Sandra Thayer. I remember The Lady of the Waves." she says. Her smile turns sad. "She carried at least a hundred souls when we left Absalom. I know you have struggled and faced terrible dangers, as we have, but you are safe now. At least, as safe as we can make you. We will find places for you among the foragers unless you have skill at arms or other talents. When the rest of our council returns, we will hear what you have discovered."
She brightens again as she looks at Koschei and Vasily. "You will need to meet Tatya," she says. "She looks after the little ones."
Vallen looks up as Sandra approaches, letting go of his holy symbol and giving her a small bow of his head. "Aye. They should return very soon, and we will all want to hear your stories." The dwarf looks off in the distance, over the bay. He appears to be lost in thought for a few moments. Father of Creation, this news is accepted with a heavy heart. What place these lost brothers have in your Grand Plan? I pray that somewhere in their corrupted hearts they can remember the warmth of your hearth.
He looks back at the group, smiling softly at the children. "Folgrit bless these little ones, they have made a hard journey. They will be safe with Tatya, I can assure you."
Hassan's gaze hardens at the mention of the dwarven captors, his eyes sweeping out over the bay as if searching for hostile ships on the horizon, "This clan is known to us. We had hoped they were absent from the region but it would seem we are not so lucky. Our list of threats grows daily it seems..."
Pulling his attention back to the necomers, he smiles, his hand finally falling from the grip of his sword, "Sandra is correct. We welcome you to the settlment of Newspring such as it is and offer you what protection we can provided you will help us carve out a home here. I am sure there is much you can tell us from your experiences. But for now take your rest. It sounds as though you have had a hard journey to us."
Zoriya alights on the beach much more composed than she was on the ship, pulling her dignity around her shoulders like a robe. She's all at once a proper noblewoman again, jawline delicately determined and gaze steady. She leaves collecting her children to Tomag, mindful of his greater strength...and still wanting her hands free in case something should go wrong.
"I am Zoriya Petrova, and my companion is Tomag Born-at-Dawn. It is a pleasure, Sandra Thayer." Zoriya inclines her head in a slight formal bow. "Thank you for your generosity. We will pay you back in kind--and as for our safety, I promise that you'll not have cause to fear for it. We've not come so far on smiles and luck."
"We will see to the placement of our people at this council meeting. For now, they need rest." She softens slightly, though only to the extent of glancing sideways at the rest of her group. "I will speak for us, if that suits them. Tomag, Rina?"
She walks over to Vasily and Koschei at last (her teeth might have gritted ever so slightly when Vallen looked at them, but she knows perfectly well most dwarves aren't like the ones they met--and yet) and takes her oldest son's hand as she bends to draw Koschei up onto her hip.
"Við getum hætt hér um tíma, lítið sjálfur. Kannski fyrir löngu. Vera nálægt hvert öðru og Raisa, og kalla á mig í gegnum hana, ef þú heldur jafnvel að eitthvað sé rangt. Vasya, horfa bróður þinn." She presses her forehead against Koschei's, voice gentle. "Ég mun ekki láta neitt gerast að annað hvort ykkar."
"It has been a long time since we stopped. It will be good to have a place they'll be safe." Zoriya looks up from her son as if she's defying anyone to judge her for her indulgence. "I would meet Tatya, yes, Silverclasp. Excuse my sons if they shy from you, or--Koschei, no."
Hassan pays little mind to the children, regarding this woman who is clearly accustomed to being in charge. After a moment he simply shrugs, she will be for the council to deal with.
He bows to the new arrivals, "Well met Zoriya, Rina. I am afraid I must take my leave. I have duties to attend to."
Before leaving he gestures to the scimitar at Tomag's belt, "I trust you know how to use that Born-at-Dawn. Come and see me after you have spoken to the council. Keeping the settlers here safe is an ever more difficult task."
With one last look, Hassan turns and makes his way back up the beach to Newspring itself.
Tomag helps the young ones out of the boat and onto shore, before gently pushing the children towards their mother, smiling all the while. When Zoriya introduces him, the half-orc bows once more. His holy symbol jangles from where it hangs on his belt as he stands to his full height again. When addressed by the childrens' mother, Tomag nods. "Please do."
When the Keleshite man points at his weapon, the missionary looks slightly conflicted. "More so than I would like, I am afraid," he says, a hand moving to rest on the pommel of the weapon. "Indeed, I will come speak with you afterwards. If you will protect us, then I will gladly help protect this settlement. The Everlight would surely ask it of me," he finishes, before moving to retrieve anything left behind in the boat.
Vallen raises a bushy eyebrow as Zoriya mentions her children may shy away from him. He gives a dismissive gesture. "Some are shy, others are not." he remarks, not aware of their full experience at the hands of the demon-worshiping dwarves. The cleric belly-laughs softly at Koschei's antics, smiling. "That one is definitely not shy."
The priest points towards where the halflings are set up. "If you have food, please drop it off with the halflings. They are in charge of our meals around here. We... are currently on half-rations. I will be honest with you, we do not have much food, but we do have safety and community. By my beard, things will get better soon."
He then points towards where the spring is at. "Fresh water is at the spring, and many use the nearby stream for bathing. The young ones typically play around it as well."
Inhaling, he hooks his large thumbs in his belt, and looks at the half-orc, regarding him with what can best be described as neutrality. "A follower of The Everlight? I'm pleased to hear that, we only have three doctors and I'm one of them."
The Sarenraen smiles at Zoriya and the children before turning back to Vallen.
"My magics are meager, and I am rather unskilled, but I will gladly assist if you need it of me. For the foreseeable future, at least, this is now my home," Tomag states, the same broad smile on his none-too-attractive face.
Zoriya favors Tomag with a small smile in return, which although tight and weary is genuine.
"He's being overly modest. We wouldn't have made it without him." She hushes the squirming Koschei again, then returns her attention to Vallen. Some of the tension has eased from her at his laugh. "We haven't much in the way of food either. Raisa hunts, at least, if you don't mind the taste of small things." She nods towards the owl still perched on their vessel, an impressively sized bird with white feathers heavily barred by black.
"Things will be better, I agree with you on that. And if you have need of healers, I have a few small tricks up my sleeve." She squeezes Vasily's hand in absent reassurance. "We'll earn our keep."
She makes note of Hassan's trajectory even as she speaks with the others, having granted him a courteous nod of her head in acknowledgement of his bow.
The priest nods his head at Tomag. "Prayers are stretched thin around here. I have been administering more mundane medicine and treatments to keep people from relying on miracles, where applicable. The blessings of the Dawnflower are more than welcome here, and I'm sure you will find some worshipers among our lot, Tomag."
He turns his eyes to Zoriya with a smile. "Ha! I think I ate a squirrel for the first time the other day, and when you get hungry everything starts to taste good. We'll take whatever we can get.
Curiously, he looks at the owl. "Judging by how well behaved Raisa is and the "tricks up your sleeve", I'll wager a pan you're also a caster?" He inspects the woman carefully, seeing no obvious clerical reglia. "Are you a wizard? You got the look about you... No? Ah... sorcerer?"
"Vallen, are familiars not more common with wizards than sorcerors?"
Vallen jumps as Septimus once again sneaks up on him. The dwarf holds a hand to his heart. "One of these days you're going to send me to Torag's forges, Septimus. Hm... yes I believe you're correct. My knowledge of the arcane is only from what I've read, and wizards have a tendency to not respect those given arcane power rather than earned it. As a result, when they do write something about them, it's usually not in a good light."
The dwarf gestures to Septimus. "This is Septimus Gar, one of our other doctors. Quietest man I've ever met." He gives him a small grin.
Tomag grins at the whole exchange. "It seems that this is quite the lively place. Pleased to meet you, Septimus," the half-orc says, bowing slightly to the newcomer. "My name is Tomag, and it appears we're going to be working together in the future."
Koschei scowls at his mother, but he stops trying to climb Vallen's beard, and lets Vasili bring him away. Sandra Thayer sees the way Zoriya steps into command as naturally as breathing, and she grins at the other woman.
"Have care," she whispers. "There are those among us who will hate you for your noble birth. My brother was nearly murdered by one such last night. Sad to say, the dangers we face are not only from without. Come, and we will find a place for you in our tent."
As the gathering disperses, Tomag finds himself being scrutinized by a matched set of fiercely serious looking halfling children, no more than a foot and a half tall.
Tomag grins at the whole exchange. "It seems that this is quite the lively place. Pleased to meet you, Septimus," the half-orc says, bowing slightly to the newcomer. "My name is Tomag, and it appears we're going to be working together in the future."
"pleased to meet you tomag, it is rare to see one of the half-orcs among the ranks of the clergy."
Tomag grins at the whole exchange. "It seems that this is quite the lively place. Pleased to meet you, Septimus," the half-orc says, bowing slightly to the newcomer. "My name is Tomag, and it appears we're going to be working together in the future.""pleased to meet you tomag, it is rare to see one of the half-orcs among the ranks of the clergy."
The half-orc chuckles softly. "Lady Sarenrae welcomes all who wish to stand in the sun."
As the gathering disperses, Tomag finds himself being scrutinized by a matched set of fiercely serious looking halfling children, no more than a foot and a half tall.
Turning from Septimus when he realizes he is being watched, Tomag smiles widely at the halfling pair, his posture laid-back. "Greetings, little ones," he says, his voice calm and intended to not scare them. "Do you need something?"
Reaching Newspring again, Hassan speaks to his guards and sets about calming the settlers and spreading word of the new arrivals.
Once things calm down, he makes another round to the food supplies, again checking with his guards to see if anything is out of the ordinary?
Zoriya appraises Septimus with distant curiosity now that he's presented himself to her. "I appreciate a man who knows how to be quiet. Such a rarity in our fallen age."
"I suppose some things never change," Zoriya murmurs back to Sandra with a wry twist to her mouth. "Unfortunately for your brother. Has his attacker been found?"
She follows Sandra with her children in her wake, Raisa taking to the skies on silent wings. This is a silver-tongued woman to watch. I'll make an ally of her and see where else the power lies here. I can work with this. I will work with this.
Vallen contemplates the meaning of Zoriya's words, knowing that spellcasting power can come in many forms, and from many sources. Hope her source is willing to help us, wherever it's from.
The dwarf gives a bow of his head to Zoriya and Tomag, before beginning to walk up the beach. "I must return to work. We will have much to discuss at this evening's council session."
** spoiler omitted **
"I suppose some things never change," Zoriya murmurs back to Sandra with a wry twist to her mouth. "Unfortunately for your brother. Has his attacker been found?"
She follows Sandra with her children in her wake, Raisa taking to the skies on silent wings. This is a silver-tongued woman to watch. I'll make an ally of her and see where else the power lies here. I can work with this. I will work with this.
Zoriya laugh low in her throat at Septimus' mention of Cheliax, eyes full of dark amusement. "I'm hardly Chelish, but yes, that's more or less right. Don't be afraid of me trafficking my soul away for parlor tricks."
** spoiler omitted **
[dice=Knowledge (Nobility)]1d20+8
As the young halflings flee the grinning Tomag, apparently terrified, the settlers move from the beach to the village, a short walk to a shady area by a spring of fresh water. Work is being done to raise a wall, build farms and gardens, and a small longhouse near a large tent, where Sandra Thayer is leading Zoriya.
A short while later, a Varisian woman named Tatya appears, hugely pregnant and surrounded by a small gang of children and a middle-aged halfling.
"I'm Tatya," she says with a slightly forced smile. "I hear you've brought two more children."
Tomag, meanwhile, is enduring the scrutiny of the guards and soldiers, most of whom are whispering among themselves, generally curious about how well he fights.
Relative calm returns to the camp for a few hours, before a call goes up from a pair of young men patrolling the woods that the explorers are returning. They are four in number, two are women, one elven and the other Mwangi, and the others are a Kellid and a dwarf.
"I'm Tatya," she says with a slightly forced smile. "I hear you've brought two more children."
Istiel hears the call of their return go ringing through the village as they travel down the well-worn path outside of Newspring. The land has weathered much since our arrival to have cut these paths so quickly...
She lets out an uncharacteristic, deep sigh as the elf anticipates telling Manari the news of Castien and Limglad.
Kal'Tos heads immediately to the Thayer's tent to arrange for a council meeting that night. There is much to discuss.
Tomag looks crestfallen as the halfling children speed away from him. After a moment, he shrugs and shoulders his satchel, then moves to meet with the village's guards.
Upon reaching them, the assorted guards and soldiers seem to study him head to foot. Under their watchful eyes, Tomag's smile fades slightly as he gets a bit self-conscious. "I am Tomag Born-at-Dawn, a soldier of the Dawnflower. Fate has brought us together, and I should hope we can stand together in the coming days," he states to all those gathered, bowing politely.
"And myself," Zoriya says, smoothly, recognizing the necessity of winning this woman over, "I might be more of a help than my sons are a hindrance when it comes to child-minding."
She looks over the children, Tatya, and the halfling with an unexpected twinge of sympathy, and adds, "I'm certainly used to chasing my youngest, and I doubt you're up to much running, hm? When I was that far along I could barely climb steps."
By the time the explorers return Zoriya has seen to feeding and bathing Koschei and Vasily before releasing them to Tatya's care with a strict reminder to behave. She's also tended to her own appearance, though she gave her portion of food to her sons. With clean clothes, darkened eyelashes, and hair tucked into a braided crown she feels halfway herself again. Certainly more than ready to measure up this council.
The Mwangi takes the monkeys that Kal'Tos carries and heads to the halflings. Noticing the pall around the little ones, she inquires as to what is wrong. Cueta offers her condolences, loudly and with curses, and spends a little time telling the halfings of Ben's bravado and of Cueta's happiness at having known the young man during his brief, tempestuous life.
Leaving the halflings, Cueta looks to the Thayers' tent and manages to almost convince herself that Ben's death is Edmund's fault - almost. Approaching Deeshka and sighing heavily - that halfling was always too hotheaded for his own good - the Mwangi kneels and gives her mother-friend a fierce hug. "Deeshka, can you join me for a bit? I need to do some work, but we haven't seen each other much since the kraken, really. Will you sit and talk while I finish this last chore for the day?"
Making her way to Sorala, the warrior asks for a couple of sheets of parchment and an ink pen, and sets to work on a nearby tree stump, placing the parchment next to her chalk map and best as she can, replicating the map, and then replicating it again on the second sheet of parchment. As she works, Cueta peppers Deeshka with questions:
"What have you been up to, love?"
"How are the food reserves?"
"Are the halflings planning any revenge for Ben's death?"
"What's my enormous half-"countryman" been up to?"
And then, turning again and looking towards the fanciest tent in Newspring, "Deeshka, have you kept an eye out for my sister? Has she stepped a toe out of that tent? Is she eating? What of Kralish?"
Sighing and looking at her work, and satisfied that the reproductions are faithful, Cueta takes the hem of her shirt and wipes the chalkboard map clean.
---------
Next, it is off to bathe in the river. Her hair is too knotty, her once-glorious afro starting to clump and dread, but the cold water washes off the dirt and sweat, and Cueta feels as clean as she ever has in this new world, until she puts on her stained and smelly shirt and leggings, and then buckles her cuirass back into place. I have to get some new clothes. These will be rags before too long.
Leaving her boots off, the young woman tramps barefoot to Sorala, sighing with pleasure at each moment her feet make contact with the grass and the mud. Cueta drops off one copy of the map, briefly explaining the presence of the iron mine, lake, monkey swarm and hobgoblins. If the Mwangi notices Sorala's physical discomfort, the warrior doesn't let on.
---------
Cueta finds Vallen at the soon-to-be forge, and embraces the young dwarf warmly. "Vallen, priest, chairdwarf" the young woman says, a teasing tone in her voice, "I have something for you." Taking the second map, she presents the dwarf with it in an elaborate parody of the Chelish gift-giving manner, with a flourish and a kneel, the map held in both hands up at the dwarf. "There's no Portress here, but Kal'Tos assures me that we did find iron. I've marked it on the map. Also, hobgoblins and feral monkeys. I'm no council member, but I think we should send the foragers northwest as soon as tomorrow. There's game and edible plants a plenty, and if they stay away from the goblins and the monkeys, they should be safe. The goblins - we made contact with them too, and there wasn't a fight at least. We need to take someone who can parley with them and talk friendship."
Standing up and brushing the dirt from her leggings (well, what will come off anyways), Cueta's mood suddenly turns serious. "I heard Sandlock put his name in the dead scrolls, that damned hot-headed halfling. Will you be carving a statue in his honor?"
All that Cueta finds is the dwarf's strangely immaculate boots sticking out of a nearly 5-foot long tunnel apparatus with slats of various sizes cut into the sides. He is chiseling the interior while discussing philosophy and religion with Septimus.
The priest looks out from one of the holes, light from his holy symbol shining brightly from the interior. "Oh, Cueta!" He slides out of the forge and brushes the limestone dust off of his clothes, but his blonde beard has white stone stuck in it.
"What did you fin-.. uh.." The dwarf looks around as she embraces him, awkwardly giving her a pat on the back. "For me? I hope it's some Ironbloom mushrooms..." A bushy brow is quirked as a map is presented to him with gusto, and his calloused yet delicate fingers gingerly pick it up, looking at it.
"Iron?! He foun- what?" The dwarf's excitement quickly drains from his face, eyebrows drooping and even his moustache sagging. "What the nine hell's is a moan-key? Can we eat them?"
Regarding the news about the hobgoblins, the priest looks grave and begins to pace. "Hobgoblins that didn't attack? They could have been sizing you up... Planning an assault on us... You want to parley with them? Why, other than Sorala, I'm probably the only one in the camp that can speak... ah.." The priest quickly realizes his mistake, but sees no way around it. Sighing, he finishes his sentence. "...goblin."
As their conversation turns to Ben, Vallen looks very sad, blue eyes turnign to the ground and a hand reaching up to run over his face. "Yes, when I find time, I will carve a homeage to Ben so his family can know their ancestors. When I find time..." Inhaling, he breathes out slowly, continuing to look sad. "Cueta, we had new arrivals today, survivors from another ship in the fleet. Two of them are very interesting, a human noblewoman spellcaster and a half-orc- some kind of paladin of the Dawnflower, by the looks of him."
He looks up, brows furrowed, meeting Cueta's eye. "They said the demon-worshipping dwarves captured them, they escaped, and chased them this way before losing them. The heretics have ships, Cueta, big ones. I don't know any more details than that, they will tell us the story at the council meeting tonight."
Istiel parts from the others without ceremony, only sparing a nod for Gair as she leaves. The elf walks about the camp, slowly, gathering her words, searching for Manari.
When she finds the woman, Istiel smiles softly and approaches her, embracing her in a quick hug. Pulling away a little, the elf keeps her hands on the wizard's arms, her face falling in sadness that is deeply expressed in her large hazel eyes.
"প্রতিশ্রুত বোন, আমি ফিরে আছে, কিন্তু এবং উভয় এখন এর আকাশে বড়. তারা দ্বারা অতর্কিতে আক্রমণ, এবং তাদের মৃতদেহ লুট করা হয়. আমরা একটি দিনের জন্য উত্তরপূর্বে তাদের অনুসরণ, কিন্তু আমার নম এর করা ছিল আমাদের পাওয়া যায়, কিন্তু ... আমাদের খাদ্য দেয়, এবং শান্তিপূর্ণ করলো. আমরা যোগাযোগ করতে পারে না. আমি একটি প্রতিদ্বন্দ্বী উপজাতি আমাদের ভাই এর মৃত্যুর জন্য দায়ী সন্দেহ, কিন্তু ..." Her eyes tighten, and a flash of cold anger crosses her featues. "আমি জানি না. তারা প্রতিশোধ করা আবশ্যক. তারা প্রতিশোধ করা হবে না."
"The human woman wants to appear less powerful than she truly is for some reason and is neither a wizard or a sorceress but possesses arcane talents. She may be dangerous or power hungry."
The warriors seem to approve of Tomag. Though he's awkward and stumbles over his words a bit, there is an almost palpable aura of calm that surrounds him, that makes him hard to dislike.
One of them, a hulking blonde brute of indeterminate parentage and few teeth, thumps him on the back good-naturedly, almost knocking him off his feet.
"We'll stand by you, alright, as long as you stay away from my girls," he says, loudly enough that they might be able to hear him back in Absalom.
A small rock bounces off the side of his head and he turns, blinking, to see a young Varisian girl who has another rock readied to throw. "Ignore Rolof," she says. "He doesn't know what he's saying."
Then she runs off into the forest, after Tatya and the other children.
====
Tatya shakes her head at Zoriya and sighs, and then returns a wry, but honest smile.
"Your help will be welcome, certainly. As your children are. I hope you'll forgive me. It's just, well, this," she pats her enormous belly. "And we're running out of food. I'm sure the council will fill you in when they all get back."
The heavy fabric keeps the heat of the afternoon out, and rich rugs line the floor. There are two beds, clearly brought from home, and a small chest, as well as three improvised "beds" on the floor. Four women are sitting and not talking to each other. They look up at you, flinching away, as you come in, but relax once they see you. There is an elf, an Ulfen, a Mwangi and a Chelaxian whose bearing announces her as a noblewoman, though she wears the same scraps of rags as the others.
====
Deeshka puts aside her task and follows Cueta out to the stump that serves as her writing table. She smiles and gently combs the Mwangi's hair while they talk. She has at least a half dozen questions for each of Cueta's, concerning monkeys, hobgoblins, the first exploring party, the lands to the west, etc etc etc.
"Your sister seems healthy enough, in her body," she says. "It is her mind that sustained the worst hurt. She has stayed in the tent except before dawn, when she and the others walk to the stream to bathe. She's still your sister, but for a long time she's believed that you abandoned her. She needs to learn that you are someone she can rely on."
"As for our former Mistress," Deeshka sighs. "She has suffered terribly, and seems to show no inclination to start enslaving anyone. You will have to decide if you can forgive her, but she has become quite close to Melilla."
"We're nearly out of food. We've gone on half-rations, which has everyone a little anxious, though it hasn't been long enough for even Ingwe to lose any weight. Speaking of Ingwe, he seems to be building a temple to his spirits in the forest. There are a few who bring him animals to sacrifice, but he always brings the meat back to share."
"I don't know what 'the halflings' are planning," she says, her tone getting a bit steely as she tugs Cueta's hair. "Just because we're small, doesn't mean we are all one person. I know I'm planning on getting some sleep. Walton seems to be stepping into Ben's shoes as the leader of the Sandlock clan."
====
Manari listens to Istiel's story and sighs.
"তারা এখন বড় হয়, she frowns thoughtfully. "এটা জুজু তাদের হত্যা এবং তারপর আপনি খাবার দিতে হবে যে অদ্ভুত. এবং কিভাবে অর্ধেক মানুষ পর্যন্ত অন্যদের থেকে পাওয়া আসা?" For a few minutes, she sits quietly, and then she puts a hand on Istiel's arm and looks in her eye. Istiel remembers Manari's power and the strength of her personality.
"শুধু আমাদের তিনটি বাড়িতে থেকে সেট যে সব পরী, এখানে থাকা. আমি আপনার সাহস তারিফ করে, কিন্তু আমি কি হিসাবে আপনি আপনার জীবনের মূল্য প্রার্থনা করা."
it is strange that hobgoblin would murder them and then offer food to you. And how did the half man come to be found so far from the others?
Only three of us remain here, of all the elves that set out from home. I admire your bravery, but I beg you to value your life as I do.
====
After a meager meal, as the sun goes down, the council gathers with the new arrivals at their clearing.
"First of all," Sandra says when all are assembled. "We should welcome our new guests. We should hear the report from our explorers, in full, though I'm sure I'm not the only one who has heard much tantalizing gossip on the subject." She smiles, and then as her thoughts move on, she scowls. "We should discuss Ben Sandlock's death. It seems that all who were here when it happened are in agreement that Bern Hearthseeker was acting to protect my brother when he killed Ben, but I would like for us to reach agreement, so we have an answer prepared should any of Ben's kin have questions."
"Our exploration was filled with a mixture of good and bad news, I believe the area we explored is safe to foragers if they have armed people with them. We also located a clump of iron ore on the surface, I am unsure of the quality at this point but iron tools and weapons should be possible, steel maybe less so. We also made tentative content with a group of hobgoblins, unfortunately we were unable to communicate with them but we did avoid bloodshed. It is my belief that we should take someone who speaks goblin and attempt to speak with them ASAP.
On the bad news side, we found the bodies of the rest of our first scouting party, we believe they were killed by a different goblin tribe. We also had to fight off a swarm of killer monkeys."
"I understand perfectly," Zoriya says, returning Tatya's smile in kind, "I'll come to see you after the council meeting, in the morning, and we'll see what I can do to ease the burden. Perhaps tethers, or some type of kennel?"
With that dry bit of humor, she follows Sandra.
Zoriya takes note of the four women in the tent with unhappy suspicion. At the very least, it's obvious that there has been no shortage of troubles here.
In the course of getting settled Zoriya introduces herself to the women, treating each one with the care she usually reserves for volatile chemicals. They remind her of Vasily with their hollow eyes and silence.
She reflects, in the part of her mind that always seems to stand at a calculating distance from the rest of her, that if Sandra Thayer is deliberately trying to arouse her sympathies she's certainly picked the right way to go about it.
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Zoriya inclines her head as Sandra mentions their 'new guests', face carefully schooled to an attentive interest that betrays little.
"We thank you all for your hospitality despite your own troubles," she says, after Sandra and Kal'Tos, taking care to respect the protocols of the council, "I regret that we add to them with ourselves and our news, but we are all of the same expedition and the same desire to build our new lives here. We came here to join our efforts and that is exactly what we will do. I ask you not to see us as strangers, but as mislaid comrades. Now, let us hear more from your explorers."
She then sits, silently cursing the slight flatness of her words--camaraderie has never been something she excelled at, and she feels something of her lack of confidence in what she sees before her came through.
Kal'Tos' words also unsettle her, though she's not ready to comment on them. It isn't so much the idea of aligning with hobgoblins, as she's used to calling much worse allies, but the addition of yet more inscrutable threats. The iron means little to her, but she supposes it will excite the guards and the Kellids she's eying with some wariness.
The Saraeran stumbles slightly at Rolof's rough greeting, but rights himself quickly. Still not quite used to being so readily accepted, Tomag's grin grows even wider. "Sounds like 'your girls' are capable of taking care of themselves," the half-orc chuckles. "I look forward to working with all of you." Tomag seems to relax, and spends a while chatting with the gathered folks, trying to get to know them.
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Later that evening, Tomag sits comfortably near Zoriya. He listens attentively as Sandra and Kal'Tos speak.
Once the raven-haired woman greets the group, the missionary bows his head and smiles, following suit. "The Dawnflower has brought me to your light in this dark land, so I wish to help out in any way that I can." With this short statement, he is silent and gestures for someone to continue.
With Manarai
Istiel looks back at Manari, the elf's eyes darkening with her mood as her friend and de facto leader points out there are only three of them left, and one was... disturbed. "অর্ধেক মানুষ সমাধান করা একটি রহস্য. তিনি একরকম ... প্রবাহ ধুয়ে নিচে ছিল. আমাদের জানাতে সক্ষম হতে পারে? " She looks out across the clearing that has become their temporary home. "আমি বোন, সতর্কতা অবলম্বন করা আবশ্যক হবে. আমি সবসময় আপনার দিকে ফিরে আসতে হবে অঙ্গীকার. আমি আমার একটি শিকারী হিসাবে তার উপায় শেখান, Gair জিজ্ঞাসা করতে যাচ্ছি ... চিন্তা করা হয়েছে. তিনি অন্যান্য মানুষের চেয়ে ভিন্ন, এবং ধৈর্য বুঝতে পারে." The warrior looks up to the sky, as if longing to be somewhere else. "আমি মনে করি আমরা শীঘ্রই বোন এই জমি পরী আশা করি."
I will be careful, sister. I promise I will always return to your side. I have been thinking... I am going to ask the Kellid, Gair, to teach me his ways as a hunter. He is different than the other humans, and understands patience.
I hope we find the elves of this land soon, sister.
Council Meeting
Istiel sits down the other explorers, legs folded beneath her, as still as praying mantis awaiting its prey. Her face is impassive and she allows Manari to do any speaking for her, unless directly addressed.
When the newcomers are introduced the elf's large hazel eyes sweep over them impassively. The half-orc looks as fierce as he is ugly. As long as he's on our side, and leashed by his religion. The woman is dangerous. Her tongue is made of honey- perhaps poisoned, and her mind is a honed blade.
Vallen sits at the head of the meeting, calling in the session of the 2nd Newspring Council meeting in accordance with Grunnindar's Rules of Order. He listens intently to the news of the explorers, but having heard most of the information from Cueta is not terribly surprised.
The news of finding a suitable source of iron is a significant step towards a more civilized society here in Newspring. Once we secure some of the ore Horn'tos and I should be able to use our forge to smelt small batches of metal and use it to create nearly any tools the people may need."[/b] The dwarf gives a wide, happy smile at Kal'tos. "Abadar guided your travels to the valuable ore so that Torag could bless it. Our gods have heard us at last, and deliver us a means to provide for ourselves."
Vallen sighs and leans back as they begin to discuss the hobgoblins, slowly stroking his luscious beard, which has been cleaned of stone debris. "I can speak goblin, but I am wary. They may simply not wish to fight, or have not found a reason thus. If they saw Newspring... they could recognize it as a threat. We must be cautious."
When the discussion of the hobgoblins has passed, he implores the two new arrivals to share their story. "You were pursued by the other dwarves... We have encountered a fortress constructed by these dwarves on the eastern side of the bay some time ago. It was infested with cannibalistic humanoids. I found disturbing evidence of demon worship by these dwarves going back hundreds if not thousands of years." Vallen's brows droop, and he looks sad, disturbed even. "They have taken on the worship of demon lords such as Dagon, Pazu...." The priest pauses a few moments, taking another breath to avoid drawing the aforementioned demon's gaze. "....zu, and Biryui. They have forsaken Torag and the pantheon..." The priest then goes quiet, wanting to hear what the new arrivals have to say.
When Vallen tells Cueta of the dwarves, Cueta without missing a beat, fixes Vallen with a hard stare and says, "Well then, I suppose we'll have to take their ships and convert them, with words or swords."
Unbuckling her cuirass and letting it fall to the ground, the Mwangi rolls up her tattered left shirt sleeve to the elbow, exposing her forearm, and the three brands there. Pointing to the one closest to the joint, Cueta says, "This one, the most faded, I got on my journey north. And this one, by my temporary master in the slave markets of Westcrown. Last, this one, the stylized K, made to look like a Griffon? It is the heraldic crest of the House Kralish. Deeska wears this one, and my sister all three. I'll not ask you what you did to get that prisoner's brand, but know that we share a history. Thank you for the information on the new arrivals - I can see that you are an observant man. Sometime, we should speak about what there is to see in this New World in more detail."
"And know this as well - I have been gone too much. I appreciate you keeping an eye on Melilla while I am needed out there. One day I will build you a house, with a fine herb garden and a lovely hearth, but that won't be enough to say thank you for everything you have done. Let me know if there is anything that you desire, and you will have it."
When the summons comes for the council meeting, Cueta sighs and begins trudging towards the Thayers' tent, head down and brooding. Politics and arguments and Thayers await you in that tent, girl, and you may be off in the morning, back into the wilderness. It takes little more than that thought before the Mwangi has turned on her heel and headed down to Lillend Bay, where she spends the evening fishing.
Fortunately there is much in this world to see that is unconnected to my homeland, a fact which I thank the gods for every day.
Is it true that you encountered hobgoblins that did not attack on sight? These lands seem to invert the natural tendencies of species, a fact I hope does not begin to influence this village.
Sorala arrives at the meeting in a grim mood, clutching her ink, pen, parchment, and Garrack. Setting the statue on the ground beside her and her parchment on her lap, the young woman sets about recording the attendees of the meeting. As the others talk, the historian scribbles notes as quickly as she can.
After Sandra sets the agenda, Sorala rubs her temple, and not looking up from her work, says, "Food. We should discuss our food situation as well."
When Vallen brings up the goblins, Sorala looks up to those in the room. "I also speak Goblin. I'll go to talk with them if you wish, but frankly, I'd prefer not to. I've not been... feeling well, and if - gods forbid - the goblins turn out to be hostile and the talking party is killed, we should have someone left at Newspring that can communicate."
As the dwarf pauses in talking about the dwarves and newcomers, Sorala looks them both over. The priest seems like a gentle soul, and there is a power to the woman. They may be very useful to our community. Putting down her quill for a minute, Sorala folds her hands over the parchment. "Forgive my bluntness, but these times call for it. What can you provide Newspring, so that the food you eat is worth giving up?"
Pausing for a second, a shudder passes over Cueta and the hairs on her arms stand on end. "Do you think that we are being inverted? Perhaps that is why Ben went crazy in the night? Is that a fate that awaits all of us?"
As Septimus and Cueta begin to talk about Chelix and nobility, he shrugs and crawls back into the forge. The soft sounds of sculpting continue as the stonemason carves the flume and dwarven runes inside of the solid rock.
He does chime in when the two are discussing inversion. "From what I gathered the dwarves fell to demon-worshipping during the Quest for Sky, and were led here by the demons. I'd wager a pan the land did the same things it did to our dwarves- made them adapt."
Gair returns Istiel's nod as they split up after reaching Newspring once again. Nodding to the others, the kellid too departs quickly. It takes him longer than expected to locate his son as Bern has traded his shift on guard duty for one during the dead of night. The other guards are somewhat sparse on the details but it is clear that something is amiss concerning his son. Gair finds the young warrior down by the beach, skipping stones in the surf, a troubled look on his face.
Moving alongside him quietly, Gair watches the waves crash against the beach for a moment before turning and catching Bern's eyes with his own, "What has happened son? They say Ben runs with the pack now. Or wherever these southrons go..."
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Leaving Bern after some time, Gair finds his way to Hassan. He inquires after the food and the newcomers briefly before moving the topic to Bern, "It would seem Edmund owes my son his life. Do you know why Ben tried to claim it?"
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Taking a seat next to Ceuta at the council meeting Gair takes stock of their new arrivals. A quick look tells him enough about the first-mate Rina. Mated to the waves that one, poor choice for a companion...
His eyes narrow as he looks over the noblewoman, Another northerner? The Linnorms or frozen Irrisen more likely...this one has ice in her veins...
Moving on he gives the hulking half-orc's sword arm an appraising look, nodding to the fellow warrior, At least another proper fighter. I see how the others made it here in one piece. Too much of the city about him though...
He smirks at Vallen's customary hesitancy as conversation moves to the hobgoblins, "Do not worry yourself priest, we will have their measure soon enough. And if it is war they want, they will fare no better than the cannibals. You know well the strength gathered here."
His interest peaks at the talk of the dwarves, he turns to the new arrivals, "How many of these demon followers were left when you made your escape? You could not have been too far from us here. I can only hope they do not find us until we have dealt with the hobs. Bern and I shall show them a sarkorans love of demons."
Hassan has been wary of this topic since the kellid approached him. He sighs heavily, "I'm afraid I know far less than I'd like. So far as we can tell, Sandlock had a disagreement with our friend Thayer. According to the your boy the halfman decided to try getting the last word in with cold steel in the dead of night. Hearthseeker...the fact remains that your son took the life of one of Newspring's more prominent members. Appearances back his story but in the end we have little proof. That will not sit well with some people, not least of all Sandlock's numerous kin..."
Gair's eyes narrow and he steps towards the keleshite, looking down at the shorter man, his voice full of challenge, "In the north we live by our word, you nor anyone else will challenge my son's."
The bodyguard turned general backs not an inch in the face of the kellid's challenge, after decades of larger men trying to stare him down it has little effect on him, "I have known many men who claimed their word was their bond Hearthseeker. Do you know how many of them took that statement seriously? Far less than would please you I should think. My responsibility is the safety of the people here, not your warrior's honor."
Hassan sighs, catching sight of Vallen heading towards the clearing with an official look about him, "Regardless, I am satisfied with your son's account. I simply warn you that some may not be. Such is the way of things. Now I believe their are more important matters to attend to. I should think you have a meeting to go to my friend. There is much for you lot to discuss, no?"
Gair gives the other man a considering look before stepping away, his offence fading quickly. Abyss, I am getting as bad as Dwyn.
"You are right of course. Threats needing our attention in both directions it would seem. You have your own tasks but I believe much of what is discussed tonight will effect you. Should you wish, I invite you to sit in with us as to better understand the path we choose for yourself and the others."
With a simple nod, Gair steps away and joins the others in the clearing for the meeting.
Hassan watches the kellid's back for a moment before following after him. At the clearing he meets the eyes of the gathered councillors before moving to stand a half dozen feet from the circle, satisfied to simply listen and absorb all that is discussed.