At some point, the Gnome tries to track down the Quartermaster.
"Jurin, umm, I guess being knighted comes with a horse, but I already have a mount. A holy mount. Sent by the Big R' to me. Although he does rest at his home, which means he is only here after I perform my oblations which, of course, is every morning. So I've only ridden him. As a Paladin, of course, I yearn to fight astride my holy mount when forced into battle. That is, if I'm gonna' stew, I will be seated firmly with my hasenpfeffer."
"But that leaves a horse for me. The one the Queen gave me. So, am I supposed to ride her gift as a Paragon Knight?" It might be improper not to ride the Her Majesty's gift when She's offering. "Does somebody know how holy mounts do out there in the Wound? Does it have some kind of anti-"Holy Mount" aura that will keep Xanthos out? I guess I could ride the Queen's pommel to give Xanthos a rest, but he hasn't complained about me on his back yet." He thinks for a moment. "Umm, at least not out loud."
"As for the Unquenchable Fire, uh, I try to avoid catching Her eye as much as possible.""Ahh, I knew you had to be wise." With ears like that, you can't help but have some of the Elder wisdom, can you? Of course, Jurin is incredibly wise, even if he doesn't have elf ears. "Although sometimes catching Her eye is rather... entertaining. Even Paladins have to relax sometimes, too, right?"
"Yes," Jothinra says drawing out the word to more of a question than a declaration, "but when I choose to 'relax' I choose not to surrender to base emotions that are associated with The Lady in the Room."
What's this one getting at?
Jurin shrugs as he's informed of the need for a horse, then listens as Beagan explains his issue. These may or may not be occurring at the same time, Jurin isn't really sure.
"Well Beagle, if Galfrey gave you a pony, but you'd rather ride a rabbit, I've got a perfect solution. Let's strap a carrot to...what's your name lass? Liana? Isn't that a type of spill proof flooring? And how does that work, wouldn't a spill proof wine glass be better? Anyway, we strap a carrot to her, and have Xanthos chase her up and down the line delivering messages, Laina not Xanthos, with the messages not the chasing, and you can ride your dire pony."
He beams at this solution.
"That work for everybody? No Mistress What's Her-Name, she's not riding you. No you can't ride the rabbit. Anyway Beagle, Xanthos'll be fine. Plenty of paladin corpses out there that rode their holy mounts to where they died."
Laina's draw drops open, then closes, then opens and snaps shut again. "I-I'm not strapping a carrot to myself so a I can be chased by a-a-a a rabbit! No offense, Sir Beagan! But I am pretty sure My un... uhh, that Sir Cole just wants me to have something to ride up and down the lines, for speed. But I run pretty fast. I'll just run, ok? ok." Laina gets more and more upset as she talks, stepping back once, then twice from Jurin. Finally, unable to take much more, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd.
"Yes," Jothinra says drawing out the word to more of a question than a declaration, "but when I choose to 'relax' I choose not to surrender to base emotions that are associated with The Lady in the Room."
"How can you truly relax without getting in touch with... how did you say it... your base emotions?" The Gnome crunches his face in confusion for a moment until the answer hits him. "Oh! Mushrooms! I didn't think that was a Paladin thing." That seems a little out of control, but I guess true Paladins could handle it. "I guess I've got so much to learn, the Big R' help me!"
"Anyway, we strap a carrot to her, and have Xanthos chase her up and down the line delivering messages, Laina not Xanthos, with the messages not the chasing, and you can ride your dire pony."
"Now that sounds like a hoot! Leave it to you to ascertain the most motivating, unexpected manner to inspire our comrades and confuse our enemies."
As he see Laina flee into the crowd. "Or maybe we should just get her a fast horse, or a nice big, sure-footed wolf. They are really quick. Although except for my canis bonalagus, and he's not from around here. Originally."
"Plenty of paladin corpses out there that rode their holy mounts to where they died."
"Oh that's good." A bit of relief slides through the Gnome. "Xanthos will just return home if I should die, the Big R' willing. I wouldn't want him to get stuck out in that nasty place"
"Yes," Jothinra says drawing out the word to more of a question than a declaration, "but when I choose to 'relax' I choose not to surrender to base emotions that are associated with The Lady in the Room.""How can you truly relax without getting in touch with... how did you say it... your base emotions?" The Gnome crunches his face in confusion for a moment until the answer hits him. "Oh! Mushrooms! I didn't think that was a Paladin thing." That seems a little out of control, but I guess true Paladins could handle it. "I guess I've got so much to learn, the Big R' help me!"
The half-elf scrunches his face in confusion then raises a finger skyward, mouth agape as if to rebut the Gnome and thinks better of it.
Wait, what just happened here?
Jurin nods and shrugs along, mostly inappropriately.
"Hmmm, guess she's a runner. If she gets tired let her ride your pony Beagle, then it'll all sort out."
Serra looks for Lusila.
Serra is met by many disconcerted stares as he searches for information on Lusila and Daisy. Finally, one of the younger warriors nearly tears up. He bites his lip then reports, "The Lady Lusila is no longer with us, Sir. She died in combat on our way to Kenabres. It was a small skirmish, and an unlucky blow. I....I was her squire, but the Queen has seen fit to allow me to continue on this journey in M'Lady's stead."
"Well she knows Cole, how scared of carrots could she be? He eats them all the time. Don't worry, we all know you couldn't carry Serra. I'll go talk to the girl and see if she's willing to have apples or doughnuts in her pocket instead."
"The Lady Lusila is no longer with us, Sir. She died in combat on our way to Kenabres. It was a small skirmish, and an unlucky blow. I....I was her squire, but the Queen has seen fit to allow me to continue on this journey in M'Lady's stead."
Serra pats the other, less-good squire on this back, knowing the pain.
"That's okay, son. I'm sure you'll do fine, making her proud."
Serra walks away, lost in thought.
Cole looks around a moment and realizes no one is speaking to him. Whew
He checks the readiness of the caravan, I've got an hour or so. Time enough. and heads back to his bunk. He takes off his finery and packs it carefully in a satchel under his bed. He puts on his old, still dirty, clothes and sweat stained hat.
He sits on the edge of the bed and examines his medal. He rubs his finger along the lightning bolt, around and around. He attaches the medal to his mithral chain shirt, carefully fills his quivers, shoulders his pack, and lies back a moment on the bed.
He closes his eyes, and thinks back to just a few weeks ago when things were peaceful... and simple.
He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again.
Time to move.
"The Lady Lusila is no longer with us, Sir. She died in combat on our way to Kenabres. It was a small skirmish, and an unlucky blow. I....I was her squire, but the Queen has seen fit to allow me to continue on this journey in M'Lady's stead."Serra pats the other, less-good squire on this back, knowing the pain.
"That's okay, son. I'm sure you'll do fine, making her proud."
Serra walks away, lost in thought.
"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir." The man, if only just barely, calls after Sir Serra. He nearly calls after, him, wanting to introduce himself, but such a busy knight would have little time for a rank and file man such as himself.
"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir."
Serra spins around, slowly registering the squire's intent.
Serra blinks a few times,
"Sorry, Sir Knight...my mind was elsewhere. Did you need something else?"
The man startles then straightens, "Sir, it is my hope to follow in Lady Lusila's boots steps. I-if the opportunity presents itself, if you need a volunteer or or or anything, I hope you will remember me." He stands at his best for a moment, then remembers he left something out, "Rhobley, Sir. My name is Rhobley, and I volunteer, no matter how dangerous it might be!"
Serra puts out a mailed fist, curled into a ball, offering a Lastwall fist bump.
"Well met, Sir Rhobley. If you need anything from me, please do not hesitate to ask. And if you see your mistress, do let me know," Serra says briskly.
"If you have nothing else, I must tend to my squire and his pony. The lad has never ridden before."
Rhobely offers up the fistbump, though it seems to lack conviction, or experience. Still, he seems fine, until Serra mentions his late mistress. "I...Yes, Sir. If I s-s-see her, I will definitely let you know!and uhm... if your squire needs help with his pony, I am happy to help. I know what that's like."
Eli decides to find out what else is required before the army advances. He bids his friends patience, and returns to Cole to inquire.
"Cole, do you need anything done before we depart? I am simply waiting and would assist you, should you require it."
"Cole, do you need anything done before we depart? I am simply waiting and would assist you, should you require it."
Cole is found brushing his horse in anticipation of the ride.
"It's been a long time since I've been on a horse." he mumbles to himself. "What? No. I don't need anything. I'm just waiting for this army to congeal, and we're off. Shouldn't be long now."
Cole mounts and pats his horse on the flanks. He adjusts himself in the saddle, and he looks around from his new vantage point. Wonder if I'm going to have to shoot from up here?
Laina stalks off fuming only to realize she'll need to explain to Cole why she's not riding. She paces near his tent for a few minutes, but cannot convince herself to fail in front of him. Finally, she returns to the madness QuarterMaster's area. "I *will* need a horse, General. But I won't wear a carrot. I can feed it carrots, but I'm not wearing one!. Uh, Sir."
Jurin frowns.
"Not even a purple dragon? They're a very nice variety of carrot, the hue is excellent."
He shakes his head as the woman continues to stare death at him.
"Alright, you can ride Mistress What's Her-Name. She's been telling me all day she's up for the challenge. But don't feed her too many carrots or the stew will taste funny!"
"A pur-ple dra...." Laina shakes her head, preferring to focus on the important things. A horse.
"Alright. I will not feed the horse too many carrots. Uhmm.... which one is she and what is her name again?"
Jurin points at the horse he was conversing with before she showed up.
"Right there, the talking one. Mistress What's Her-Name. She said hello and you ignored her, but she's decided you're pretty so it's ok if you're rude."
The girl blinks...then blinks again at the aforementioned horse. "Uhhh... my apologies, Mistress uhhh, Ma'am. I uhh, don't know very much about horses, you see. So I'm didn't realize." She nods, wondering why Klarah couldn't come on the trip if Jurin gets to be Quarter Master General.
*****
When all and sundry are ready, the expedition begins to move out.
Serra checks out his horse...an Atolbreed, he notes. A beast of good girth and muscularity, bred for stamina and strength at the expense of overample eating.
Not unlike myself.
Serra is by no means an experienced equestrian, but he knew his way around horses enough after tending the Inn for so long. He knew enough to ride and get by, but there would be no fancy jumps or prancing from him; however, there would not be awkward falls or saddle sores either.
Serra circles his horse twice before nodding his head in appreciation, loading his minimal gear onto the horse (most of it was in his haversack).
Serra yells, asking across the hustle and bustle of the moving warparty.
* * *
Serra prefers to keep himself near the middle of the caravan, assuming the vanguard to be well knighted. He will be where he can quickly respond to issues in the front or back, while still being able to make chat with Amber or Lusila (when he finds her).
He will also keep an eye on Kastor and the pony Daisy, making sure the young squire learns to ride well...as a knight should.
Eli watches Cole grooming his horse, so decides that it's a reasonable thing to do himself. Wandering amongst the troops, he eventually arrives at rather tall blue dun horse. He decides to walk past it slowly, looking for alternatives, but quickly decides that this is his horse.
The horse doesn't seem to pay him notice at first, but starts easily enough when Eli approaches. A light blaze on his head, the horse starts to turn his head slightly, settling when Eli rests his hand on the horse's neck. A couple of deliberate strokes, and the horse returns to its ennui.
After grooming the horse's sides, readying for the saddle's placement, Eli approaches the horse's head. The horse starts again. Only when the old man takes a second look does it occur to him. When it does, Eli lets loose a tremendous laugh that startles the horse yet again.
Cataracts!!! The horse is hampered as much as I am! Eli contains his laughter, but decides to take a closer look, waving his hand, then keeping his hand from moving.
Pack animals. This horse relies on its brethren for ease of travel. It will maintain an air of caution, no doubt about it. It will depend on others. So must I.
...
Eli enjoys conversation with his kith, keeping towards the rear of the train. He also enjoys the freedom that comes in trusting an animal that has no intention of injuring itself unneccessarily.
Jurin squints at the poor beast about to be sacrificed.
"Ah...Dinner...that's a favorite of mine. That's a good name for you...and we shall make dinner of the demons who would challenge us,'" Serra says, patting down the horse and checking for burrs and his saddle.
Serra mounts dinner, getting his riding legs under him (so to speak).
"Come, Dinner...geee-yap!" Serra takes a few practice rides up and down the column, ending up near Jurin.
"Not a bad horse, Jurin. A fine Atolbreed, he is. He'll serve me fine," Serra says to Jurin, remembering that talking to Jurin can be a surreal experience and now fearing the response.
The Company sets out with Cole near the front, the other Paragons scattered throughout and the supply wagons bringing up the rear. The suggested route is due north to Vala's Gift.
Laina tries to get accommodated to riding a horse, but only stubbornness seems to keep her in the seat.
Nurah draws near to Beagan, calling to him over the rumble of this many people on the move, "Well now, Sir Beagan, if it's songs you want song, perhaps you could part with the stories of your Victory in the Gray Garrison for me, and I may sing you into History."
Suddenly, a "hail! " comes from those in the back, then another closer to the ears of each of the Paragons. "There is a cloud of dust approaching from behind us, from Kenabres. How would you like it handled, Sir Cole?"
Suddenly, a "hail! " comes from those in the back, then another closer to the ears of each of the Paragons. "There is a cloud of dust approaching from behind us, from Kenabres. How would you like it handled, Sir Cole?"
"Let's treat it like a possibly hostile force approaching us in the Worldwound. It'll be good practice."
He leans over to Laina, "You watch the north, keep a sharp eye out, and also pay attention to how our forces react."
Cole turns his steed and rides to the south side of the wagons and draws his bow. He peers off in the distance trying to ascertain what is coming.
Eli watches as Saul's face turns from almost-wistful, to alert. This gives permission for the old man's focus to excuse itself from conversation.
"They are certainly in a huff over travel from Kenabres. Let me know what you can make out, when it gets close enough." Eli takes his leisure, waiting for a surely benign agent to close the distance.
Serra wheels his mount while reaching for his scale. As he trots closer to attend Cole, he activates his scale, becoming Assimarra the Be-glittered.
"You have my ranseur, Cole. Just tell me where you want it."
Perception
"Easy Serra, it's probably just a messenger or someone late to start out with us. We should be wary, but..." he looks over the Assimarra standing next to him shining in the light, "...no need to expend any resources."
None the less he fingers his own scale in his pocket as he looks southward to the cloud of dust.
I'm sure it's nothing. There will be lots of 'somethings' when we're further in the 'wound proper.
The knights to a man turn and move forward, protecting the supply wagons. In the 'wound, the loss of those could mean death, or worse...
The cloud of dust soon gathers detail. A horse head first, then hooves, then finally the person atop the beast. "Irabeth sent me." says the messenger, gathering her breath. " 'Quednys requires one of the Paragons for a mission of grand importance. The queen agreed on her way out of town.' She does not say what the mission is, but did say that you should choose, Sir."
Serra looks at Cole, then at the messenger.
"You should send me, Cole. I'll go and make quick work of it," Serra says, happy to be of service. "I'll be back before you know it "
Damn, we're just starting out and already we're weakened?
"You don't know what the mission is, and yet we must select one of our own to accompany you back - not knowing what is to be done."
He looks to his companions and measure's their ability to stand on their own in the face of something completely unknown.
Eli can't see far enough away for some things.
Serra is needed to communicate with the knights.
Beagan, well, Beagan is Beagan right?
Grasker is... sigh.
"Serra I need you here."
"Grasker, you're the best of us - would you go on this Queen's Mission? Perhaps you can catch up later - you know our route."
Jurin quietly snorts at the thought of Serra doing anything quickly, then goes back to sleep at the reigns of the head supply wagon.
Serra gives Grasker a look, hurt that he was not selected.
I'm twice knighted...I should pull a rank.
You're twice as fat. The only rank you pull is around the dinnertable.
Serra looks glum...and bids Grasker good luck.
"Ride well, Grasker. And stay safe...we will likely need you again."
That was nice, but you're still fat, oh TwiceKnight. Twice as fat.
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"Thank you, Sir Serra, Sir Cole. I will catch up as soon as my responsibilities allow. Be well, my friends. Be Safe. Be Righteous." He nods, formally, then heads back into the dust towards Kenabres.
Eli grumps, watching the dustcloud become a smaller thing. "Why in the hells would Quednys wait until we were off and gone before sending for Grasker. Wouldn't you think the Queen would have wanted full force for this invasion? What if... What if our energies weaken should we be separated? Cole, how far did you travel from Kenabres?" Eli frowns in thought.
"Perhaps we'll learn something of this new distance, between us and Grasker. I would be curious should any of you, Cole, Serra, Beagan, or I experience some form of weakness. Like shards falling away from the original stone."
If Aasimarra does not share Ely's concern about loss of powers, he does not share it.
"If the gods so freely take away what they have given, then why did they give it at all?" Aasimarra queries in return, trying to find the root of Ely's worry.
He stows his scale and prepares to ride next to Ely, awaiting an answer.
"If the gods so freely take away what they have given, then why did they give it at all?"
Eli turns to the aasimar. "How would I know? I am not a god, and have not until recently been worthy of their attention. If you're asking me to speculate on the minds of gods, I'd say they only pay attention when they want something, and lend their favor to mortals when it interests them. If they lose interest, perhaps they call in their debts, and loan out once again to a new vessel, testing its integrity." Eli considers the knight.
"Do you think your power is permanent? Might there come a time when Iomedae takes Her power back? Do you think if that time comes, She'll ask you first?" Eli looks at Serra, then down to his horse to secure the rein more tightly, before paying the knight full attention for his response.
"Of course the power is permanent...at least until we die or we accomplish the goal for which it was given. And I'm pretty sure we have not seen that end yet," Serra pats Dinner's neck as he rides.
"The only things that have happened is that Jurin has returned and that Cole has been given leadership. If I was guessing the will of Iomedae..." Serra pauses, a-grin,'before continuing, "...I would not say that is what she had in mind. Besides, we have impossibly perfect breasts to think about."
Serra rides more, thinking about impossibly perfect breasts.
"No, I shall not worry about losing the power until after that creature has been dealt with. I think that is why we are what we are at the very least. That is what the vision gave us."
Serra looks to the vanguard then the baggage train, holding his tongue and waiting a response.
"There are worse things than dying, Serra. We march on demons' lands, and may find ourselves falling from grace, should we think too long on impossibilities. I don't speak for your virtue, only mine. I, at least, will try not to be reckless with the divine gifts given, but we are only men, given to weakness. Iomedae will be justified in taking back Her power should that happen." Eli grows quiet for a spell.
"What is it you think we are, by the way?"
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" If you're asking me to speculate on the minds of gods, I'd say they only pay attention when they want something, and lend their favor to mortals when it interests them. If they lose interest, perhaps they call in their debts, and loan out once again to a new vessel, testing its integrity."
Beagan nods vigorously. "Yes, that sounds exactly right. Just as it should be."
"Do you think your power is permanent? Might there come a time when Iomedae takes Her power back? Do you think if that time comes, She'll ask you first?"
"What does it matter how long we have it? Or whether we are asked or not? As long as we do have it, we need to use it to further the Cause. To help the downtrodden as much as we can. Be it one day or for two hundred years, only while we are young or if it remains when we are old and grey, we should use our gifts as long as they last."
"There are worse things than dying, Serra.... we are only men, given to weakness. Iomedae will be justified in taking back Her power should that happen."
Beagan sighs. "I hate to say it, Eli, but we already are not worthy of these gifts. Well, maybe Grasker is, but I know I'm not." Not after what happened in the 'Briar. "But you are right when you say the worst thing that can happen is not dying, but being led astray."
""What is it you think we are, by the way?"
"Good question. I mean, the Mendhevians now call us all knight or Sir. But I don't think that means much to the Gods."