"'International Hobbit of Mystery'?" muses Kalimac. "I think I like the sound of that. It does sound like the kind of guy who would have a henchman, though. Maybe I need a duplicate of me, but built to double-scale, as a henchman. I could call him 'Maxi-Me'." He smiles at the thought.
"I'm not sure what there is to say about the International Hobbit of Mystery, though. He's just a simple Varisian boy who decided that the farm life didn't really suit him. Between wanting to help the downtrodden and wanting to see what was on the other side of the next rise, I wasn't a whole lot of help to my dad, I'm afraid."
"Mel? There was talk of food earlier. Maybe we should think about that?"
"'International Hobbit of Mystery'?" muses Kalimac. "I think I like the sound of that. It does sound like the kind of guy who would have a henchman, though. Maybe I need a duplicate of me, but built to double-scale, as a henchman. I could call him 'Maxi-Me'." He smiles at the thought.
She smiles. "You drink from a cup, he drinks from a bottle at the same time, kind of thing?"
"I'm not sure what there is to say about the International Hobbit of Mystery, though. He's just a simple Varisian boy who decided that the farm life didn't really suit him. Between wanting to help the downtrodden and wanting to see what was on the other side of the next rise, I wasn't a whole lot of help to my dad, I'm afraid."
"Like the one in Westmarch," she says. "I was much the same, actually, although it was a different kind of life that didn't suit me. To disappointed dads?" she offers, raising her glass.
"But I feel like you're skipping a lot. There has to be something that leads from, 'I wanted to get off the farm' to 'So then I learned to ride a wolf into battle' ..."
Beneath his naked, purring love, Alaric could not be more exhausted or content. Or sore. It takes him a long time before he even musters up the strength to realize that he's hungry. "Mel? There was talk of food earlier. Maybe we should think about that?"
I will never understand the leisure time activities of biology based entities, Helgarval comments from where he has been flung.
Alaric bursts out laughing. "See? No such thing as privacy!"
"Well, I think the two of you are very sweet," Suishen comments. "Pay no attention to that old fussbudget. I swear, some beings lose all sense of romance when they lose their genitals."
"Missed you," Rhost says. "So you're coming?"
She succeeds in two of the three. She probably hadn't intended to roll herself onto the floor and cocoon herself in the sheet, but we will call it a success.
A slightly muffled and quiet, "owww"
"Missed you," Rhost says. "So you're coming?"
She meets your gaze. Nods.
"The Path of Destiny is apparently a bit crowded."
Makoa sounds amused.
As Alaric's laughter fills the room, one of her eyes cracks open.
<Something funny?> she asks fuzzily. <Why is Melinda on the floor?>
<And did someone mention food?>
In the late afternoon, Hrunndalf leaves the inn with Ulf and Uksahkka.
"That's better," he begins, in a voice slow with the comfortable lethargy of thermally induced relaxation. "Though I still don't know the first thing about the two of you. What's your story, if you don't mind the telling?"
At dawn, the sun crawls wearily over the horizon, as if against the advice of its doctors and worried family. Nonetheless, the day, if cold, is calm and clear, at least for now.
Sandru has consulted with Ulf about the best ways to prepare the Caravan and its passengers, and discussed the possibilities with the group to come to decisions. And so throughout the day, purchases are being negotiated to both to make the Caravan better armored against attack, better prepared in general, and better able to provide cheer and entertainment to the travelers over the course of the long winter journey - something Ulf says may seem frivolous, but is actually likely necessary to prevent all of you from going mad.
And on that hopeful note, the day begins.
"I believe the part that's missing from the story is the part where I'm a hopeless romantic. At least that's what Dad always says. I grew up on all the bard tales and epic stories. I just knew that was the life for me."
"When I got old enough, I signed on with caravans to see the world. I always had the epics in mind, though, so I kept my eyes open for anyone who had something to teach me that I could use in my goal of being the next storybook hero."
"The whole 'wolf-rider' thing was a happy accident. If Attatoq and I hadn't found each other, I'd be riding a war pony today."
That next day, Alaric goes out without armor (although he appears to be carrying it with him), to go shopping. Anyone who wants to accompany him is, of course, very welcome.
After talking to Ameiko, Hrunndalf looks around for Melinda. If she's, um, "reclusive" for the rest of the evening, early next day will do as well.
Hrunndalf puts up a smile and addresses Melinda. He seems to be in a good mood. "Melinda. Could I ask you a favor? Ameiko and I would like to borrow Suishen for tomorrow, if you don't mind. Don't worry, there will be no swordfighting. We'll keep him safe and hidden."
After talking to Ameiko, Hrunndalf looks around for Melinda. If she's, um, "reclusive" for the rest of the evening, early next day will do as well.
At a certain point in the evening, the door to Melinda and Alaric's room opens, and out steps Alaric, fully dressed but without armor. His hair is, to put it mildly, tragic. Sections appear hammered flat. Others look like they're trying to escape.
Alaric gives Hrunndalf a vague smile, and turning partially, there's a fairly sizable rip in Alaric's trousers that has thus far gone unnoticed. Following the uncleric from the room are Melinda and Zaiobe.
That next day, Alaric goes out without armor (although he appears to be carrying it with him), to go shopping. Anyone who wants to accompany him is, of course, very welcome.
Kalimac tags along. Spying Alaric's armor, Kalimac tests his Halfling fluency. "Ma kuulsin oma märkused oma raudrüü eile õhtul. Väga loomingulisi teotus!"
After talking to Ameiko, Hrunndalf looks around for Melinda. If she's, um, "reclusive" for the rest of the evening, early next day will do as well.
At a certain point in the evening, the door to Melinda and Alaric's room opens, and out steps Alaric, fully dressed but without armor. His hair is, to put it mildly, tragic. Sections appear hammered flat. Others look like they're trying to escape.
Alaric gives Hrunndalf a vague smile, and turning partially, there's a fairly sizable rip in Alaric's trousers that has thus far gone unnoticed. Following the uncleric from the room are Melinda and Zaiobe.
Caught exiting the bedroom, perfectly groomed and put together in her normal shapeless clothing, Mel turns an interesting shade of green. Her eloquent response to Hrunndalf? "Ummmm.... What?"
Buttersnips takes a deep breath.
“All right,“ she replies. “Then there are a few things I want to start off by saying.”
”The first is – I can be sweet. I can be charming. I can be attentive, considerate, fun. But one thing I will never be is ... comfortable. I have peaks and lows and jagged edges. I have, in short, emotions, and sometimes they are turbulent. If you can’t be, or don’t want to be, with someone who’s not comfortable, tell me now, and we’ll have a nice dinner and chat and go back to the Inn as friends.”
Myri's eyes are unfocused. For some time she seems to concentrate inwardly on Buttersnips words. At last her eyes return to the dainty elf-like creature across from her. "I...have to be honest. I do not know. I..do not know myself well enough." just a tiny hint of shame, "I would think everyone has emotional...changes, or it would make for a very dull existence. I...think I get over things that upset me relatively quickly, but...I do not know for sure. I think as long as our friends are not...um, put in danger? I am okay with at least trying. I mean...if you are that is (). But...I have to say, we may have another issue entirely..."
”If that’s not an impossible stumbling block, then I think there are two things that bother you. The manner in which I acquire the material for my art, and the art itself.”
...
...
She sits back, and waits for your response.
Myriana listens attentively until Buttersnips is finished. This time, she does not have to think first, "I admit I am a little disturbed by seeing, um, humans and...humanoid um, parts...harvested...I don't actually think it disturbs me nearly as much as the others. Though it's true, seeing it does bother me, I think possibly because I've butchered game for food since as long as I can remember it does not impact me in quite the same way. I am very concerned however, that your doing so could bring a great deal of trouble to our friends, our companions, our mission. If the people in the area we are traveling through react very badly to...say the taking of their kinsman's body parts, even their own enemies...that could make our mission a great deal more difficult and dangerous...and I cannot see putting our friends lives in jeopardy...and maybe it's because of the Kreeg's, maybe not, but I would really prefer your personal collection of humanoid parts be kept to a minimum. ... and not in the presence of me or our companions or native people that might try to bring the authorities down on us. I think, if I have at least a shade of doubt as to where it actually came from, I can probably get by.
Will this grow into something that is an obstacle to big to overcome? I...honestly do not know. But I do know that it is a concern. I do think your finished products I can deal with...though, honestly, I think I love the by-products of your work significantly more. I..am sorry if that offends you, I think you would find that you would have quite a market for something like the dress you are wearing...if you could stand to make something so simple and boring , that is. It seems actually quite..sensual to me. Myri's eyelashes flutter twice, looking directly into Buttersnips.
Perhaps something of a startled pause as she catches herself turning slightly pink as her attention suddenly shifts to her menu , "Um, I'm sorry, they seem to be quite busy, perhaps we should order. Um, what would you suggest? I..I'm kinda new to Tian cuisine."
Kalimac tags along. Spying Alaric's armor, Kalimac tests his Halfling fluency. "Ma kuulsin oma märkused oma raudrüü eile õhtul. Väga loomingulisi teotus!"
Alaric looks like he got maybe half of that, if he's lucky. "Vana armor vana. Vana värdjas. Aeg uus armor."
Kalimac tags along. Spying Alaric's armor, Kalimac tests his Halfling fluency. "Ma kuulsin oma märkused oma raudrüü eile õhtul. Väga loomingulisi teotus!"
Mel (who has been there the whole time) looks at Kalimac and shrugs. As she normally does when she is clueless.
Hrunndalf looks to Mel, Alaric, and back to Mel. Raises an eyebrow, smiles. "Bad time...?"
Hrunndalf looks to Mel, Alaric, and back to Mel. Raises an eyebrow, smiles. "Bad time...?"
"We were planning on getting dinner." Mel says, her voice quiet, face still mint.
Alaric looks like he got maybe half of that, if he's lucky. "Vana armor vana. Vana värdjas. Aeg uus armor."
Kalimac laughs. "Ma olen lihtsalt õnnelik sa õpid tsiviliseeritud keelt." He then gestures at Alaric's bundle of armor. "Kui soovid aidata saada mõned nõuetekohaselt paigaldatud, olen su sulane kunagi."
"Suishen? Is it horribly wrong that I feel... something is not right with that request?" She clears her mind of that thought. "Is it alright with you? I will want to check with Ameiko first... Because I have no problem handing you over to her... but I..." shame colors her thoughts, "... I don't fully trust him." A pause, "I know that is stupid." Or at least she hopes it is.
I don't like this at all, Suishen replies. You are my designated bearer, not him. And this is hardly a case where you are tossing me to a friend in combat to save us all, or where a comrade is plucking me from your unconscious body in a similar situation. Failing that, I should never be far from your reach unless the bearer is changed. And if Amatatsu Ameiko wishes to change the bearer, why is he asking rather than her?
Alaric gives Zaiobe an appraising look before getting up and hunting for his clothing. "Zaiobe, would you pass Melinda her panties? She's a little modest, and probably an adorable shade of bright green at the moment."
Zaiobe hesitates for just a moment, then gets a well, in for a penny expression on her face. She unfolds her wings and gets up, finds some of Melinda's underthings and hands them to her, then begins to hunt around for her own clothes
Kalimac laughs. "Ma olen lihtsalt õnnelik sa õpid tsiviliseeritud keelt." He then gestures at Alaric's bundle of armor. "Kui soovid aidata saada mõned nõuetekohaselt paigaldatud, olen su sulane kunagi."
"Taldane is a civilized tongue. We invented civilization, after all. Then spent a thousand years trying to destroy it."
Concentrating on his poor grammar and dreadful accent: "Kuidas oli kuupäeva Ameiko?"
"We were planning on getting dinner." Mel says, her voice quiet, face still mint.
Seeing that this between Hrunndalf and Mel, Alaric stands with Zaiobe to let them talk.
Hrunndalf looks to Mel, Alaric, and back to Mel. Raises an eyebrow, smiles. "Bad time...?"
"We were planning on getting dinner." Mel says, her voice quiet, face still mint.
Mel looks... uncomfortable. "Ummm..." A long pause, where her face plainly shows hurt and sadness, quietly, "I can understand if Ameiko thinks someone else would be a better choice to bear Suishen..." A longer pause, "But... Suishen would prefer the request come directly from Ameiko." Her voice sounding way too close to tears for anyone's comfort, "She's out, right? I'll talk to her first thing in the morning."
"I believe the part that's missing from the story is the part where I'm a hopeless romantic. At least that's what Dad always says. I grew up on all the bard tales and epic stories. I just knew that was the life for me."
"When I got old enough, I signed on with caravans to see the world. I always had the epics in mind, though, so I kept my eyes open for anyone who had something to teach me that I could use in my goal of being the next storybook hero."
"The whole 'wolf-rider' thing was a happy accident. If Attatoq and I hadn't found each other, I'd be riding a war pony today."
She laughs again. "And I listened to so many bard tales I became a bard ... hopeless romantics, the pair of us, aren't we?"
Will this grow into something that is an obstacle to big to overcome? I...honestly do not know. But I do know that it is a concern. I do think your finished products I can deal with...though, honestly, I think I love the by-products of your work significantly more. I..am sorry if that offends you, I think you would find that you would have quite a market for something like the dress you are wearing...if you could stand to make something so simple and boring she is obviously trying to take a teasing tone, that is. It seems actually quite..sensual to me. Myri's eyelashes flutter twice, looking directly into Buttersnips.
"If you need me to be circumspect with acquisitions, then I will be circumspect. I understand your safety concerns, as odd as the necessity may seem."
"I don't really want to pitch my goods to a market, Adannaya. Otherwise I wouldn't have set up shop in an abandoned city. I will do what I must, and the market will find me."
"But," she gazes up at you through lowered lashes, the smile returning to her face, "If you find my more sartorial creations personally ... appealing, then I would be happy to wear them. For you. Whenever you want." Her voice has dropped to a near whisper.
Perhaps something of a startled pause as she catches herself turning slightly pink as her attention suddenly shifts to her menu I assume it doesn't have pictures, "Um, I'm sorry, they seem to be quite busy, perhaps we should order. Um, what would you suggest? I..I'm kinda new to Tian cuisine."
"Hmm? Oh, I haven't the faintest idea. I can't read Tian. I was just planning to point to something random."
"I don't want to keep you from dinner. Have fun," Hrunndalf says to the group. He is clearly confused by Mel's emotions. "We can talk tomorrow."
As an afterthought, he adds with a smile. "We're going cliff hiking. Much safer with Air Walk."
"That's better," he begins, in a voice slow with the comfortable lethargy of thermally induced relaxation. "Though I still don't know the first thing about the two of you. What's your story, if you don't mind the telling?"
"What part of our story?" Ulf asks. "How we know each other? Why we do what we do? How we got tangled up in the knotted pile of intestines that are the Guilds in this town? Why I pulled dumbass stunts more than a decade ago that it looks like I'll be trying to pull again?"
"He'll talk like that forever without saying a damn thing if you let him, you know," Uksahkka comments, her eyes closed as she relaxes in the steam. "Except at some point he'll start throwing in more similes."
Concentrating on his poor grammar and dreadful accent: "Kuidas oli kuupäeva Ameiko?"
Kalimac's only response is a beatific smile.
Mel still looks uncomfortable although not quite as distraught. She motions at Hrunndalf,
"We certainly are quite a pair. I wonder what tales will be told of us, and what kids will be lured away from normal lives by our example?"
Kalimac fumbles with the chopsticks, trying to get a morsel of food to his mouth. He briefly considers using a chopstick as a spear to get a grip on the food, but ultimately decides that would be looked upon as poor maners.
"How about you? Who is Ameiko Kaijitsu, the Beautiful and Mysterious Bard?"
Zaiobe hesitates for just a moment, then gets a well, in for a penny expression on her face. She unfolds her wings and gets up, finds some of Melinda's underthings and hands them to her, then begins to hunt around for her own clothes
A muffled "Thank you" from a still very tangled Mel. She may have extracted an arm by now, but not much else.
Once she does and is scrambling for her own clothing, she seems to be putting a supreme effort into not noticing that she or anyone else in the room had been naked.
"We certainly are quite a pair. I wonder what tales will be told of us, and what kids will be lured away from normal lives by our example?"
"Corrupting children," she says with an overly serious expression, "Should be every adventurer's ultimate goal."
"How about you? Who is Ameiko Kaijitsu, the Beautiful and Mysterious Bard?"
"Hardly the one or the other, but thank you for saying so. Ultimately, she's a kid from a messed-up family; overly controlling father, depressive mother, beloved brother who went crazy in the head. I ran away to become an adventurer twice, once at 13 and once at 16. When the second time ... ended badly after a few years, I opened a bar and mouldered there for a decade or so. Exciting, huh?"
"I don't suppose he will mind, though. He'll be in Ameiko's reach all the time, after all, and he'll get a magnificent view onto the city and the sea for his efforts. I'm sure he's itching for some fresh air and far horizons after being stuck in a well for days."