Melinda and Lio spend some time working quietly over a document, as they use the samples of handwriting given to them by the slaves, to aid Melinda in forging the will.
Once that's done, the ink is dry, and it looks pretty good. Lio smiles tentatively at Mel. "Aye 'ope et workes. Wont ta join me 'en goen ta fainde Jorun?"
"If you want me to but I do not want to intrude."
She contemplates the objects you have presented her with.
"I'm thinking perhaps somewhere we can sit in the dark relatively unobserved. The theater, perhaps? In the back?"
Your contemplation makes her just a little insecure. "If... if you don't want to... I'm sorry, if I ...overstepped." She stutters, nervously in a quiet voice. Old demons snapping at her, memories she tries very hard to beat down into submission, to leave her alone. Maybe she made a mistake. What if you didn't like it. But you were going to do it anyway, just to make her happy.
Buttersnips' surprise quickly gives way to pleasure as she melts into the kiss.
Seconds tick by, lost in the moment, then Myri's eyes snap open and she disengages with a mumbled apology, I..wh..sorry... Her eyes meet Buttersnips, apparently seeing something, or the lack of it, deep within them, as she follows with an "Oh, what the hell." as she squeezes Buttersnips tighter and kisses her passionately again.
A short time later Myri is looking into Buttersnips emerald eyes again. "I'm s..uh, that was..unexpected." she stammers, then places the quickling on her seat and fans her neck with her hand "I...thought it was supposed to be really cold tonight." Myri is blushing furiously.
"If you want me to but I do not want to intrude."
"Up ta ye. Wouddna mainde e' companey, baught ef ye got plahns..." Lio smiles at the young human. "Oh, we n'ever maide up thot denner weth Zaiobe an' Shalelu thot wuz entruppted. May'aps whaile we'are on e road, weh kann get toggetter?"
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Alaric brightens a bit at Zaiobe's last statement. "Melinda and I could make you stronger? There might be some other ways to help as well." He turns to Mel. "I'm adding that to my Top of the World list."
<Based on what I researched, layering a spell which gave me the strength of a bull with another than mimicked Rhost's beserker strength would give me just enough of a boost to take you both up at once for as long as they lasted or could be renewed. There are items that would do it permanently, but the 1000 in gold was beyond my price range even considering the possible utility of such an ability in an emergency.>
To Reta: "How about you? Mel and I had a list of things we wanted to do on the crossing over the crown. Do you have anything you want to do?"
Reta thinks very hard about this. She says:
"Reta want to climb the Nameless Spires builded by unknown Old Ones fifty million years at top of the world, be first Goblin to walk through the Cyclopean rooms and corridors of dead city, see the sculptures of dead race beneath brooding peaks of great mountains in the terrible age and deadness of nightmare city while sky is churning and opalescent mass of tenuous ice-vapors above that harbor of nameless horrors and Archaean secrets, shunned and prayed to by those who fear to carve their meaning, visited by the sinister lightnings and sending strange beams across the plains in the polar night from cubes and caves of echoing, vaporous, wormily-honeycombed nonEuclidean structures. You know, see the black pit, the nameless cylinder, the moon-ladder, the windowless solids with five dimensions, that whole kind of thing."
<Ouch.>
"That am how Goblins fly," Reta comments, "Only without the third bit."
Mel nods, "I only broke my arm. Davor was... amused." A flash of an old memory. Lying on grass near sunset, pain lacing through her arm, and a larger green boy rolling in helpless laughter next to her, stronger than the pain is the anger pushing her to attack her twin, broken arm or no. The memory is oddly uplifting to Mel.
<I'd be happy to link to you,> Zaiobe adds. <Should I wait for a ... break?>
<During a break would be nice, during would be... interesting. If it wouldn't umm... distract you too much.>
<I actually, um, looked into ways to take you two up with me, at one point.>
Mel nods in agreement to strengthening Zaiobe to make duo flight easier. "I have both of those abilities. So... I would be happy to assist."
And seems eager to hear what is on Reta's list. "You too, Zaiobe, you must have a list as well."
"Grateful," Rhost will take the pass from Zaiobe.
"Question for you -- can wait," Rhost smiles and nods, and heads off to hunt up Kelda.
Kelda does not prove particularly difficult to find.
For the group meal, reservations have been made at a place that serves Tian/Ulfen fusion cuisine, with the intent of looking both to the past and the future. A bonus was that inquiries found that they would have no problem with the presence of what were tactfully called "well-behaved canines".
A round of drinks is duly served as the feast is prepared.
Lio sips at some mead. Apparently druids like that sort of thing.
She sits next to Shalelu, if she has any say in the matter.
Linguistics aid roll
Myri in passing stops, realizes what they're doing and points out a few discrepancies that can be improved.
Your contemplation makes her just a little insecure. "If... if you don't want to... I'm sorry, if I ...overstepped." She stutters, nervously in a quiet voice. Old demons snapping at her, memories she tries very hard to beat down into submission, to leave her alone. Maybe she made a mistake. What if you didn't like it. But you were going to do it anyway, just to make her happy.
Shalelu takes them.
Reaches into her pants. Shifts a little.
Comes up with an empty hand.
Seconds tick by, lost in the moment, then Myri's eyes snap open and she disengages with a mumbled apology, I..wh..sorry... Her eyes meet Buttersnips, apparently seeing something, or the lack of it, deep within them, as she follows with an "Oh, what the hell." as she squeezes Buttersnips tighter and kisses her passionately again.
A short time later Myri is looking into Buttersnips emerald eyes again. "I'm s..uh, that was..unexpected." she stammers, then places the quickling on her seat and fans her neck with her hand "I...thought it was supposed to be really cold tonight." Myri is blushing furiously.
"Yes," Buttersnips says, seeming for once to be having difficulty getting out words. "Surprisingly. Warm."
<During a break would be nice, during would be... interesting. If it wouldn't umm... distract you too much.>
<I had assumed it would be a rather distracting day in general. I do not think I will crash into any mountains.>
And seems eager to hear what is on Reta's list. "You too, Zaiobe, you must have a list as well."
She seems a little startled. <I have to confess I hadn't actually thought about it.>
Shalelu takes them.
Reaches into her pants. Shifts a little.
Comes up with an empty hand.
Sense Motive on Shae Lio tries to figure out how you're feeling, but her own insecurities and past demons are still messing with her head. What does it mean? She's still not sure if this is something you'd like to experience, or not.
Biting her lip, she looks at you, her eyes, conflicted. Both incredibly turned on, and scared that she's doing something wrong. And if it's wrong, is there something wrong with her, to find you so sexy, to find the thought of you spending a few hours in public, with the ben wa balls inside you, such a turn on.
"Slappað þotur þínar," she grouses at the crowd. "Ég ætla bara að byrja með hefðbundnum kjaftæði."
And you feel it as it courses through her body, the build and the peak and the aftershocks that follow like waves.
A burst of multihued light bursts forth and surrounds her, and for a moment it is as if you are viewing her through a stained-glass window.
Lio tries to figure out how you're feeling, but her own insecurities and past demons are still messing with her head. What does it mean? She's still not sure if this is something you'd like to experience, or not.
Biting her lip, she looks at you, her eyes, conflicted. Both incredibly turned on, and scared that she's doing something wrong. And if it's wrong, is there something wrong with her, to find you so sexy, to find the thought of you spending a few hours in public, with the ben wa balls inside you, such a turn on.
"Your telling me to do this," Shalelu says. "Is very. Arousing."
"If you're still worried, then let's set safe words."
For the group meal, reservations have been made at a place that serves Tian/Ulfen fusion cuisine, with the intent of looking both to the past and the future. A bonus was that inquiries found that they would have no problem with the presence of what were tactfully called "well-behaved canines".
A round of drinks is duly served as the feast is prepared.
Myri takes a deep swallow. The drink suffuses her with warmth, she finds herself, at least initially, near Silmemir, Attatoq and Skygni. She double checks to make sure the wolves have something on the way, if not already there.
"If you want me to but I do not want to intrude."
"Yes," Buttersnips says, seeming for once to be having difficulty getting out words. "Surprisingly. Warm."
Myri gives Buttersnips hand another squeeze. "Well, um, that was...very exciting. Um, what do we do next?" She looks around to see what the crowd is doing in general.
Hrunndalf casts Deadeye's Lore on himself and Ameiko to make sure no time is wasted inefficiently negotiating the terrain to the base of the cliff.
"Glad we got the boots," Ameiko comments as you ride. "It must be right around zero degrees. At least it's not windy."
"Comfortable, aren't they. Much like the spell, but I hear they truly shine once you set foot on snow and ice."
Hrunndalf visibly revels in the simple, physical pleasure of riding, especially in the first half of the trip that follows an old road and thus allows for some galloping.
He keeps up a light intermittent conversation whenever the trail allows it. "Like the new hair," he says at one point. "Any particular significance?"
Once the hill grows too steep for the horses, Hrunndalf dismounts and ties his courser to a tree in a secluded place. He hands Ameiko one of the waterskins and takes one, then two cautious step into thin air, testing. "Amazing," he marvels, stomping at the invisible resistance beneath his boots. "Looks safe, but we should probably rope up for safety anyway." He digs up his rope and hands her one end, tying the other around his torso in what he considers a sensible manner.
"Ready?"
Hrunndalf makes sure the pace is comfortable for both of them, including a short break if necessary, but does not waste time so as to leave some time on the summit. He will lag behind a few steps when Ameiko sets foot on the top of the cliff, so as to lose his bet.
Somewhat lathered and panting, he offers Ameiko a congratulatory high five, an appreciative nod, and a matching grin. "Well done. I believe I owe you. On an unrelated note, please tell me if you spot any wild boars."
Then he turns towards the view sprawled before him, cups his hands to his moustache, and voices his elation in a liberating shout.
Once Zaiobe seems to have come back to earth, "More? Or our turn?"
: at some point during day 2, Will Forging Time
Rhost is willing to add his Linguistics to the project. as you see fit.
"Kelda," Rhost reads off the name of the place from the pass. "Be something of interest?"
Then, turning to the pork buns, he gorges himself: the long-distance runner packing on the carbs. To Zaiobe: "You have the time to think of something. Four months to a year up there. We'll have to make our own fun."
: at some point during day 2, Will Forging Time
Rhost is willing to add his Linguistics to the project. 1d20+8 as you see fit.
<Strip for her.>
Alaric gives Reta a long, deadpan look. "Where did you hear about that?"
She looks surprised. "Thought everyone knew about that."
Then, turning to the pork buns, he gorges himself: the long-distance runner packing on the carbs. To Zaiobe: "You have the time to think of something. Four months to a year up there. We'll have to make our own fun."
<Well ... I'll think about it.>
"Kelda," Rhost reads off the name of the place from the pass. "Be something of interest?"
Her eyebrows go up a bit. "The Hall of Splendid Valor? Pricey. Never been."
"Sure."
After everyone's hunger is satisfied, "Are you going to head out now? Or come with to pick up Rhost's thank you present?"
He keeps up a light intermittent conversation whenever the trail allows it. "Like the new hair," he says at one point. "Any particular significance?"
"I like to change it up whenever there's a decent excuse to," Ameiko says. "No real reason beyond that."
Somewhat lathered and panting, he offers Ameiko a congratulatory high five, an appreciative nod, and a matching grin. "Well done. I believe I owe you. On an unrelated note, please tell me if you spot any wild boars."
Then he turns towards the view sprawled before him, cups his hands to his moustache, and voices his elation in a liberating shout. "JÉÉÉ-JÓ!"
She grins at your shout. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for boars."
She turns to look at the landscape. "Nice view."
Myri gives Buttersnips hand another squeeze. "Well, um, that was...very exciting. Um, what do we do next?" She looks around to see what the crowd is doing in general.
"I think," Buttersnips says, smiling, "That we should go collect our winnings now."
"Hér með höfuð höfðingi míns Ég mun vaskur nú með fætur hans skalt þú finnur þér í hvíld."
"Gull-umsækjendur á sviði bardaga skulu bera mig út, gjafir mikla-souled konungs jafnvel dauður gleyma."
"Bráðum gráðugur ernir mun gljúfrið á líkama okkar, rampur hrafnar vilja Sundurrífið útlimir okkar."
"Til hár-sinnaður, hetja það er virðist að deyja til að dvelja með konungi sínum ríkur í verki."
More than a few very, very large and well-armed men and women in the audience begin weeping.
Myri takes a deep swallow. The drink suffuses her with warmth, she finds herself, at least initially, near Silmemir, Attatoq and Skygni. She double checks to make sure the wolves have something on the way, if not already there.
"Should we have a toast?" Sandru asks.
Almost feeling like she is already naked under Alaric's gaze, Mel squirms.
<Well, then. You might as well. Be naked too.>
"I think," Buttersnips says, smiling, "That we should go collect our winnings now."
"Ooh, yes! Very nice." Myri's eyes dance and she does a little girlish bounce, with a little clap before reaching down for Buttersnips hand, then suddenly realizing that might not actually be the best idea. "I'm sorry. Is it uncomfortable for you to walk this way?"
"Should we have a toast?" Sandru asks.
Just as Sandru asks, Alaric and Melinda walk in, holding onto each other either in lover's bliss or extreme exhaustion. Although properly dressed, they obviously made their way in a hurry, Alaric's hair disobeying gravity in the back and Melinda's hair in a twisted mess of knots and loops.
Moving over to the table, Alaric's movements are a bit cautious and Mel seems as if her knees might give out suddenly.
"Hear it's upscale," Rhost says. "Let's find out."
Myri takes a deep swallow. The drink suffuses her with warmth, she finds herself, at least initially, near Silmemir, Attatoq and Skygni. She double checks to make sure the wolves have something on the way, if not already there."Should we have a toast?" Sandru asks.
"Um, yes, let's." Myriana replies looking back at Sandru expectantly, then realizes that having said that maybe she should have something else to offer, says "Uh, to the value of friendships that have driven us to overcome obstacles and pursue lofty goals?" she turns red, being very nervous at having put herself on the spot.
"Should we have a toast?" Sandru asks.
Kalimac stands and raises his glass. "Mai meie haagissuvila alati liiga väikesed, et hoida kõiki meie sõbrad," he toasts. "Or, in Taldane, 'May our caravan always be too small to hold all our friends.'"
Even disrobing slowly, Mel is quickly naked. Standing in the cold room looking at Alaric, blushing as her body reacts to his gaze.
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After everyone's hunger is satisfied, "Are you going to head out now? Or come with to pick up Rhost's thank you present?"
<I think I'll join you, if you don't mind - I'm intrigued. I'll stretch my wings afterwards.>
Alaric raises his glass at the first toast, tries to drink, raises it again at the second. This process continues until everyone's done. He barely manages to touch the cup to anything before gulping it down and signaling for another.