Bydar translates word for word . He does stay close to Tig during this
King Vesket looks like he might protest the claiming of the treasure from the spirit hut, but the rest of the tribe keep him quiet without even needing words. You suspect the other iruxi see the treasures as just as cursed as the false spirit who hoarded them, so they are happy to see them removed from their village - and all the better if they are put towards trading for other goods they cannot produce themselves.
Besides the spear, animal hides, and smatterings of coins, you find a couple yellow stones, a ring carved from smoothed coral, and a preserved feather with an oak-leaf pattern upon its plumage.
Christian leaves Tig beside Bydar and walks to stand in front of King Vesket.
We will return with supplies soon, after that we can talk about a trade agreement.
Repeating the words again that Bydar told him.
You are free.
He extends his hand out in a gesture of friendship. A simple handshake.
We should be getting Tig home. I am glad that we were able to help and may this lead to a lasting friendship.
Tig remains rather mute, still processing both his ordeal and his sudden rescue. Nevertheless, he eagerly accepts the help provided to him, and he vigorously nods his head in agreement when the prospect of going home is voiced.
The iruxi let you pass freely, some of their warriors escorting you safely back across the river. They, like Tig, remain very taciturn. Besides the remorse of how they were duped and what they were coerced into doing, they are now very nervous of potential reprisals from the human settlers under your banner.
Bydar, before we leave would you relay one last message to our escort.
We will make sure that all know who the whole story and who the true villain was. The willow wisp is destroyed, now is the time to heal and move forward. We shall return soon.
Bydar nods and repeats this...
and then
After those translations he says to Christian "Their shame is great. I hope they do not let it overwhelm them."
The iruxi mull the parting words from both Lord Christian and Bydar. You are left on the northern riverbank with a feeling that this dark time will pass and a new period of cooperation will dawn.
Your latest expedition comes to an end and you return northward towards Charis to return Tig to his worried family.
Bydar leaves such guiding to Brandt and the others. He feels most ignorant of such and wouldn't want to mislead them.
Instead he focuses on keeping Tig distracted and in good spirits. he takes a piece of wood and carves it to look like a smaller version of Fenrir
"Didn't get it quite right, did I, Tig?" He admits and offers over his attempt, "Fenrir has a much nicer looking tail."
Brandt helps the group pick their way through the swamp, while trying to keep everyone as dry as possible.
So did we gain an ally? I'm uncertain of the disposition of our southerly neighbors toward us after we revealed they'd been duped by an evil floating ball of negative energy. he lets Tig ride the horses while he hunts around for the best pathway toward home, and Fenrir spends his time around the boy, fetching sticks thrown and being used as a pillow when the party camps at night.
"I think the tribe is grateful, the King ashamed. I would call them cautious allies at this point myself? I could be wrong and there will be many cultural differences. If they do become regular allies, perhaps classes in Draconic would be useful? Between the Kobolds and now the Iruxi, it might become a language of trade. We might have to find a teacher of it for the upcoming academy. My religious duties have me focused on other things." Bydar watches boy and Wolfdog play with amusement as they talk "This realm we're forging, it's not like anything I would have imagined at first, but it is clearly going to be diverse."
With an agreeing nod directed towards Brand, Christian looks back towards the Iruxi
Time will tell. Time will tell.
He regains his focus and looks forward again.
We cannot force them in any one certain direction. We aid them, guide them, influence them even but we do not dictate to them. That is what that creature did, and we will not do that. It is not right, and it is not fair to the Iruxi.
He pauses for a moment.
I am sorry. Having your life dictated by others does not sit well with me. Everyone should have a choice in their own lives. To make their own decisions. How ever this turns out...good or bad...this is their choice.
He reaches out to Tig.
Tig...do you understand what happened back there? We all are here for you when and if you are ready.
Tig nods in response to Christian, before squeaking out, "I just want to get back to me ma and da."
Fortunately, your nigh expert wilderness skills in what is increasingly becoming familiar land means that you conduct the boy back to Charis very expediently and without stumbling upon any new hazards of the wilds.
His parents and siblings are overcome with emotion and rush forward to practically crush the lad in a collective hug to welcome him back home. You can understand very little of what they say over the sobs of relief and joy.
In just a few hours, word has spread through the entire town that the leaders of Charis went out of their way to rescue a single lost boy. Even if that was not the actual intent of your expedition, the tale sticks, and your citizens' loyalty is reaffirmed.
Bydar has a lot to tend to. To the congregation that worships Shelyn, he guides, comforts, listens, advises and heals. One day he hopes to give them a proper temple but it is slow going, and at least their is a shrine and forge to Torag so that there is literal holy ground in the area, which sets goodly folks at ease.
He's abit surprised when and if praise for their rescue of Tig is given, and answers honestly of the situation, encouraging his fellow Shelynites not to be too judgemental of how the Iruxi were fooled, "There are always those who will don the garb of whatever people honor and revere to use it for their own ends. We have to be cautious of false prophets, fake patriots, and those who tell us all we want to hear and then urge us to do evil in the name of some greater good. We also have to make sure such caution doesn't make us cynical to the point we assume all prophets are false, all patriots are fake, and there is nothing good in common cause. It is a hard and narrow path. Too far on one side can make you commit monstrous deeds and betray the very symbol being used against you. Too far the other? You end up blocking all avenues to community convinced they must ALL be yokes, and in doing so yoke anyway."
And, there is the Academy! A glorious undertaking for anyone who sees the promise of seeds of education taking root. It makes him smile just to think of it.
But Syretia is magister not he, and he takes her lead in its shaping offering his own architectural skills. And sculpting, of course! It is a joy to work with stone again.
No, his greater duties are as acting High Priest of Charis, and in his case, this means more as a go between rather than leader of the various clercs of the area to make sure they're all getting along and coordinated. And to help them in their own endeavors. Orlog travels with him so there's already communication there, he hopes. Thus so, he visits Kara Ilarenika, priestess of Pharasma, Nanya of Arundhat, and seeks out any other religious leaders that have settled into the area (To introduce himself, make sure they'rte not some whacko cult he needs to warn the others about, and offer his help if they're not)
For those (Definitely Kara and Nanya anyway) he asks the following:
"How is your faith growing, if at all? Do they have places to meet and worship freely? How Can I help you and them? Are there any concerns you have?"
He also wants to find out if anything new has been uncovered about the Red Shields and their slavery attempts near Charis.
I think we should arrange for some supplies and return to the Iruxi. We can cross the Murque river there and travel along the Shrike River until we find a way across to the Mud Bowl.
***later when they are discussing kingdom business.***
What news is there on the advance of the Taldorian Army?
***later when they are discussing kingdom business.***
What news is there on the advance of the Taldorian Army?
"I have been prying information out of the princess and her friend, slowly but surely. That Lotheed woman is quite paranoid and vigilant, so it has been hard to make inroads.
"So far, I have learned that Grand Prince Pythareus, the military commander who has maneuvered his way onto the throne, has halted his armies' advances now that they have secured Galt. Undoubtedly, he wants to shore up their supply lines in the newly conquered territory before advancing further.
"I also managed to get our exiled noblewomen to share that Pythareus will probably want a few weeks to tour Taldor as a victorious hero, having reclaimed one of their empire's lost holdings. Besides stoking his ego, the noblewomen also suspect he will use this to bolster national pride and drive up recruitment for the army, since holding Galt and moving onto the River Kingdoms will take significant manpower."
Then we need to make a stand against them before they come here.
Christian stand and looks down at the map of the region.
We need to make a stand or capitulate. I will not do the later, but I will buy time if it comes to that. Time enough to evacuate the population to Restov.
Brandt and ideas? Bydar?
So the Whitehallows were a scouting force to secure and stabilize for a handover to the Taldan army? Brandt asks the room.
Bydar ponders something, "I wonder if we could possibly lure some of his troops away. Clearly they're trying to drive up recruitment for this foray, but how many are conscripted or caught in some debt so they feel they have no choice? Maybe we can offer them a better deal in a new land."
"Conquering Galt is one thing. From what I've heard, the place was a wretched mess with no standing army to speak of," Sapphira chimes in.
"The River Kingdoms, on the other hand, is a hornets' nest waiting to be shaken. If the warlords and other powers in the region learn that Taldor might be invading, you'll suddenly see the River Kingdoms unified in purpose like never before.
"It especially helps that the entire width and breadth of the Kingdoms already sits between us and Taldor's armies like a buffer zone."
Christian stares at the map for far too long, then lifts his head up to look at the others.
I think that is correct Brand. The Whitehallows were promised something in return for this scheme but what that is I do not know. I would like to know where they are now.
Christian looks again at the map his eyes darting all over as he sees a pattern appear in his mind. A way to have the battle flow in their favor.
We have no way of tempting them away from Pythareus. We can never match; we cannot match him...
Christian smiles and looks up at the others.
...but we may not have to.
We cannot match him alone, true...but...we can. It is time we reach out to those that can match him. All of us. The River Freedoms.
He looks exited but worried all the same.
Lady Svetlana, I have a lot to place on your shoulders. I strongly feel that you are more than capable of handling this task.
He nods at her and continues.
First I would ask that you make arrangements for a meeting between Lady Eutropia Stavian and Lady Martella Lotheed. I am asking you to do this as it is very much diplomatic in nature. This should happen as soon as possible and when you bring them here, make certain that you enter first...and then announce them. This is very important. Second, I will prepare a letter for you to take to mayor Ioseph Sellemius. You are to wait for his answer before returning to Charis. Again, this is of a diplomatic nature, and I will trust whomever you send as your voice, but I feel we would be better served if it was you. Third I will be sending a letter with you to our friends the Silver Fang Tribe. We are going to need basic traps made and quick. While this in of itself is not diplomatic in nature...asking an ally to sell traps to us is. I will set the terms down to paper and let you negotiate the outcome. I would ask that they join us in the war to come but I would rather have all of them building traps. I will send guards with you. A half dozen should suffice.
He looks to Bydar with a smile.
You my friend are going to be busy with some spells. I have need of sending spells. To our three dragon allies. I would like to talk with them if this is possible. I will meet them where and when they want. Do so in as polite terms as you can...I would preferably like to meet them here and publicly. I also need you to cast a sending to Lady Jasrella of Argent Dracos with the phrase Fracti Sagitta...sign it from me. Martro Livondar, Lord of Daggermark. This will be a difficult one. I will have to sit down with you and come together with a short, worded message that will get my point across. Daggermark is where the outlaw council meets. We do not have the time to travel there to beg for a meeting therefore I am asking him to have the council meet here in Charis as the council has the power to get here faster than we to them. Suffice it to say that the River Freedoms are in jeopardy for all of the River Kingdoms.
He walks around the table with the map, looking at the region from several different angles.
I know we did this once before and I hope we can still do it. Brand, if I describe a location, do you think the animal message spell thing will work? I want to send a message to a location in several of the towns around the area. The same phrase as Bydar is sending to Jasrella. Fracti Sagitta but signed Christian of Argent Dracos. Can we do this?
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Charis is small enough that Cenna finds turning a profit on her tattoos to be a bit of a challenge… at least during her first week in town. She tries several locations before settling on a spot near the town center, adjacent to what passes for the seat of government. There the petite, olive-skinned, Varisian woman with the wild mane of wavy hair, sets up a chair and a table inside a modest-sized – but colorfully decorated – tent (all rented from a fellow Varisian). She circles the tent, holding a folio, and hawking her talents loudly:
”Tattoos! Tattoos by Cenna! Holy symbols, weapons, phrases, monuments, people, symbols of luck, creatures – real or mythical! Ward off evil with a protective gIyph! I can draw anything you describe. Any style, any size! Reasonable prices!” To the casual observer, Cenna is merely a peddlar.
But to anyone with a passing knowledge of equipment… some of her gear is entirely too fine. Her backpack is high quality and the three holsters on her belt hold what appears to be an eldritch rod, a folded three-sectional staff, and a scroll case. She is certainly a tattooist but her gear suggests she is likely something else as well. And to anyone that can detect magic, much of her equipment lights up like flares in their vision.
For her part, Cenna is working to sell tattoos, but she is also observing the coming and goings of the locals and keeping an ear open for any interesting bits of news.
"Good morning" comes a light voice to the side of Cenna's stand, drawing the Varisian tattoo artist's gaze to a small human(looking) woman with spectacles perched on a pleasant round face. "Your ink is delicious, madam merchant, that bugbear lady especially, never knew their lot could look so... ample?" She might have seen something as the pages were flipped and misseen. "I wish I had the funds and time to add to my collection with your work."
Elenora considered for a moment talking about a couple of her own but she was here for a respectable job, not like the one she had been pursuing with those horrid Redshields. Too many times she's had to flee the shackles cause she was working for the wrong lot. For once, it would be nice to be on the Up and Up.
"Would you be knowing where the lords and ladies of this new city reside? I've heard they would be needing an accountant for their city's ledgers, and that's what I am. Elenora Brisbee, an accountant." The declaration was a tad too quick like she is attempting to convince the air itself.
Elenora certainly looks the part. The round glasses, a prim coat and vest over a neat frock, a heavy book on a sachel on her hip that when shifts accompanies the clicking of glass. Even her ink-stained fingers help put anyone at ease.
Which is fine since she IS an accountant.
But she also moves with an easy grace, with the hip roll of someone who's been a sea more than on land. Her hair, long and draped over her shoulders, is an odd shade of dark green which despite dashing herself with the scent of honey and vanilla still smells of the good parts of the ocean. Under the hem of her prim vest gleams a few rows of fine chinks of mail.
She smiled at the other woman, someone she had noticed watching as much as selling. Elenora found this to be a truly excellent quality which is what drew her to ask this particular vendor her question.
”Your ink is delicious, madam merchant, that bugbear lady especially, never knew their lot could look so... ample? …I wish I had the funds and time to add to my collection with your work.”
Cenna smiles, ”Thanks for the compliment.” She looks over Elenora – not judging – but trying to guess where she has tattoos and what they might be. ”If time weren’t against you, Miss Brisbee, I’d invite you inside to show me your ink.” Related to the comment about her sexy bugbear, she adds, ”I do a variety of ‘pinups’… boys, girls, and hard-to-say… in all sorts of races. You just never know where a client’s interests lay.”
"Would you be knowing where the lords and ladies of this new city reside? I've heard they would be needing an accountant for their city's ledgers, and that's what I am. Elenora Brisbee, an accountant." The declaration was a tad too quick like she is attempting to convince the air itself.
If she found anything curious in Elenora’s declaration, Cenna doesn’t let on. Her eyes fall on the building nearby. ”I’m new in town so I don’t know the ins and outs… but that seems to be the seat of power and I saw a few men enter, not an hour ago. From the deference paid them by the folks in the street, I would think they are important. One had a regal bearing, very tanned, maybe a bit taller than me and slender. Walked with a soldier’s stride.” She regards the ‘accountant’, ”Good luck with that job! If any of those lofty folks need a tattoo, I’d appreciate it if you sent them in my direction.”
He looks to Bydar with a smile.
You my friend are going to be busy with some spells. I have need of sending spells. To our three dragon allies. I would like to talk with them if this is possible. I will meet them where and when they want. Do so in as polite terms as you can...I would preferably like to meet them here and publicly. I also need you to cast a sending to Lady Jasrella of Argent Dracos with the phrase Fracti Sagitta...sign it from me. Martro Livondar, Lord of Daggermark. This will be a difficult one. I will have to sit down with you and come together with a short, worded message that will get my point across. Daggermark is where the outlaw council meets. We do not have the time to travel there to beg for a meeting therefore I am asking him to have the council meet here in Charis as the council has the power to get here faster than we to them. Suffice it to say that the River Freedoms are in jeopardy for all of the River Kingdoms.
"Bold, particularly that last, but boldness may yet save us. I'll get to work on my part of that. With Oleg and Syretia taking up their own duties, we'll be hard pressed but, what choice have we but to try?" He nods.
Then he adds, "I guess getting a tattoo will have to wait. I understand from one of my congregation there's a Varisian woman new to the area who does fine work in that art."
The small round woman perks a bit at the discussion of tattoos but sighs at the reminder of having no time. She could last a while with the remainder of the funds that she 'acquired' from her previous employers. But life has taught her danger could be slipping behind you with a knife any moment.
The woman turns her head to check, just in case, unwittingly letting the slight Varisian know that she is a tad anxious "A regal soldier, hmmmm, could be worse employers I'm a guessing." she looks back and smiles "When danger comes a calling, or someone needs something Big lifted."
"Thank ya, and I'll do so, the telling I mean, Tattoos by Cenna. I'll practically crow it I will." she promises and seems to mean it.
With that, and if no one comes to say hi, Elenora Brisbee will head to the important looking building.
Brandt thinks a moment, Will the Lord of Daggermark take your message as an affront? I've always heard tell that the River Lords are a notoriously fractious lot who don't play well with others? he says deep in thought. He idly plucks an arrow from his quiver, adjusting the fletchings a moment while lost in thought before continuing, It does say to me that should Taldor actually be on the move here once they are finished with Galt, we would need to strengthen our defenses- nay we'd actually need defenses then. Academies and temples are the trappings of civilization, but it is a hard world out there, and we need something to keep it at bay so our people can partake of the finer things as well.
He turns, sighting the small woman entering the fort, And we always have more new comers here... Hail there. You must be new to Charis, I'm Brandt, son of Oluff the Tall. Who might you be?
"Good mornin..." Elenora pauses in her greeting. Does he look soldier-ry? Mentally she shrugs and adds "me lord" while bowing. "I'm Elenora Brisbee, from way of the Shackles, looking for employment. As an accountant." The clutched book, the round eyeglasses, and the rest of it once again agree with her declaration.
"I have references, I do, and have even studied up on the laws of the River Kingdoms, not that there are many of those. The freedoms..." She smiles broadly up and the broad man "You are... with the government? Aren't you?"
Acknowledging Brand's concern with a nod, Christian face shows concern.
It is a possibility. No one force has ever been able to bring the River Kingdoms under one ruler.
He stands taller.
How ever...I feel that if we explain the situation correctly and with great care, we could have the river Kingdoms coming together to fight back against the Taldorian army.
Christian raises an eyebrow when the word Shackles is spoken.
You are a long way off from the Shakles. Too many dangerous lands for one person to travel alone. So how did you come apoun our little back water kingdom?
He turns his full attention to the women.
Now granted my knowledge of the Shakles is limited at best but what I do know is that the Shakles is not a nice place and that those that leave...are trying to reinvent themselves or are hiding themselves.
His smile is disarming as he speaks in a casual tone.
Come forward and let us see these refrences. Oh, and yes you have found the government. I am Lord Christian Del'Agante and these good folks here are the government of Charis.
Elenora's eyes shift from the oak of a Ulfen to the smaller man. Smaller physically but the air around the man makes up for the size difference, it does. For a moment the woman wants to fan herself, but that would be unprofessional, and professionalism is what Elenora is going for.
"Yes, me lord" she gulps a little as she comes forward, opening her satchel, which fans out like an accordion filled with various stacks of papers. Her nimble fingers, flip through, pausing then skipping over one set for another.
"I came by caravans, mostly, here and there, working when work was to be found until the work washed up or I found the employment or employer no longer to my liking. And don't worry about my safety too much, Lord D'Elagante" She easies his name out slowly to get it to work with her shackles accent. "I might not look like much, but shackles born usually means you got tricks under tricks to survive." She gave a bright smile, only faltering for a second as she considered maybe an accountant shouldn't be telling a prospective employer things like that.
"Here you go, me lord and ladies and governing" Elenora sets a stack of very tidy papers on the table in front of Lord D'Elagant. Various sizes and conditions, ranging from a brief 'She's good' in big chunky letters, to pages of flowery script about all her wonderful accounting, to a couple in other languages.
One in Tien and one in Undercommon. The former is crisp and short, expressing employment was had but what kind of employment was not expressed or whether the person writing it liked her contributions at all. The Undercommon one is 95% swear words and is rather incomprehensible about what is about other than using her name frequently.
She keeps them in there because they look exotic.
"Oh, and as to the reasons for me leaving the shackles, Need to run or re-inventing as you say. I guess a little of both. Captains shift their ideals like the tides you see, and those that were bent one way in the morning can bend all the way around by the sun's falling. So sometimes a little thing like me gets caught where she don't want to be, and then one has to find land and stay there for a bit. Your newly minted country has no ties to me or mine, though there was a friend of a friend of a drinking buddy to a passerby who recommended a merchant group that might need to run some books, but as I got closer the smell of them came too rank to approach."
She quirks her mouth when she realizes she shouldn't have included that bit about 'running some books' "Not saying your government was second choice, but it was, just cause I didn't know no better of course." There was some rambling there, but goodness and the gracious, that smile was disarming.
Bydar sighs at Brandt's comment, his ACCURATE comment, about how they need to shore up defenses for the next project "At least we have a forge shrine to Torag to help with defenses and weapon production."
Then the newcomer comes in and he looks intrigued. Brandt and Christian make introductions, and the priest gives a nod. Bydar is clearly a priest, the symbol of Shelyn on display, and his garments, while sturdy, are meant to clue anyone in need of a cleric that he is one. Today his bright green garment (With white accents) match his own emerald eyes. His skin is bronzed enough to show he is no stranger to the outdoors rather than a creature of a cloister. However, the fact he has a glaive nearby indicates that this IS dangerous country and he's ready to fight for the people in it.
"Bydar Lebeda, at your service," He says, "Cleric of Shelyn, and High Priest of Charis to use a rough term. Nice to meet you, Elenora Brisbee, or Miss Brisbee if you prefer?"
She quirks her mouth when she realizes she shouldn't have included that bit about 'running some books' "Not saying your government was second choice, but it was, just cause I didn't know no better of course." There was some rambling there, but goodness and the gracious, that smile was disarming.
"So you leave the notorious Shackles and come to what was 'the Stolen Lands' , there's a symmetry in that at least."
He looks at the references when it is his turn, though he doesn't speak undercommon. "We're always happy to have folks helping our town grow. Do you have any family or friends moving in with you?" And then to explain why he is asking, "And are they wanting for anything?"
Bydar looks out an open door or window as if to check for family, and notices across the way Cenna's set up. "We may yet thrive." but this last is more to himself.
Elenora gets diverted to the priest, with the mild thought whisking through her brain about the requirements for government positions all of a sudden as she gets caught in emerald eyes.
"No, your holiness and all, not a family member left worth a pinch in any lands here and there, and I came by myself, so no friends as of yet. Oh, but there is a lovely enterprising tattooist out yonder where your eyes just took in, that seems a likely candidate."
Cenna continues to pitch to passersby in a good-natured way, ”Madam, your child is lovely! In future years, wouldn’t you like to have a memento of how perfect she looks today? I do portraits, at reasonable rates… Or perhaps you’d like a butterfly painted on her rosy cheek to bring Desna’s favour on her? No needles, no pain, and it will wash off in a few days. Just a bit of paint to brighten her day and make her the envy of her classmates…”
"I came by caravans, mostly, here and there, working when work was to be found until the work washed up or I found the employment or employer no longer to my liking. And don't worry about my safety too much, Lord D'Elagante" She easies his name out slowly to get it to work with her shackles accent. "I might not look like much, but shackles born usually means you got tricks under tricks to survive." She gave a bright smile, only faltering for a second as she considered maybe an accountant shouldn't be telling a prospective employer things like that.
I always worry about those around me and those within the region. Call it a professional hazard.
My companions here, they all can handle themselves, yet I worry about their safety every day.Christian looks over the papers.
We are in need of a person to help keep our books straight. Of course you would have to meet with our HR department. Just some questions to verify things. Security purposes of course. I will make the arrangements. Lady Sapphira is a very pleasant woman. You will like her.
You mentioned a woman who is a tattoo artist. I have some people due to be here in the next couple of weeks and most of them will be interested in some new ink. I would be happy to meet her and see what her style is like.
Elenora let up a little gasp. A mix of happy wonder and surprise, as if she did not expect to be offered employment. Even if it was still contingent on whatever HR was. "Yes sire, everything will be answered and whatever security purposes need purposing will be done so."
Elenora has no ties to Cenna out selling her wares, but connecting an artist already getting attention for the government, in good ways, was a good plan, she thought. "I'll see if she'd want to come say hi then."
The small woman saunters out as quickly as she can, "Heya Cenna" she calls to the other woman as she gets close "Would you be minding maybe coming into talk to the lords and ladies in here. I mentioned you and your work during me interview and all, and they are keen to know more about you. "
seems like fortune smiles on us today. We have many concerns and these folk may help us find the answers to those concerns. he looks down at Fenrir at his feet, You don’t seem concerned friend, so we’ll go ahead? he seems satisfied as the wolfhound wags his tail and crosses to occupy the seat departed by Elanoraand waits.
"Would you be minding maybe coming into talk to the lords and ladies in here. I mentioned you and your work during me interview and all, and they are keen to know more about you. "
As business was off currently, Cenna silently speculates that getting her ink on a member of the ruling class just might give her an air of legitimacy and draw in more customers among the common folk. It seems a worthwhile gambit. She nods, ”Works for me. I hope your interview went well.” She picks up her bandolier and leather folio then follows Elenora into the building.
Dogging the accountant’s steps, she strides with confidence through the hall and into the meeting room. She hesitates only long enough to give each of the dignitaries a cursory look, including the wolfhound. She hadn’t expected quite so many people… but the situation was what it was. She approaches the large table, lays out the folio of her work on it, then steps back and offers a single precise bow to one and all. ”Cenna Proviso, tattooist of Varisia and child of Ustalav - originally. How may I serve?” Her look is as curious as her words are polite.
She stands remarkably poised and seemingly secure in her own skin. She is slim and pretty with olive skin and a mane of wavy brown hair. To the people with military training of any sort, it’s clear she isn’t just a wandering merchant. Her weaponry – a holstered three-section staff and a sheathed Waveblade – require very specific training to use properly. Also holstered on her belt are an ornate rod and a scroll case with a set of runes glowing faintly upon it.
Elenora gets diverted to the priest, with the mild thought whisking through her brain about the requirements for government positions all of a sudden as she gets caught in emerald eyes.
"No, your holiness and all, not a family member left worth a pinch in any lands here and there, and I came by myself, so no friends as of yet. Oh, but there is a lovely enterprising tattooist out yonder where your eyes just took in, that seems a likely candidate."
"Well, I'm sure you'll make new friends soon, and please, just call me Priest Bydar if you feel the need to give me a title at all, Holiness is...well, all that comes from my goddess." At mention of the tatooist, he looks intrigued, "Very pleased to see more artists about."
He nods at Christian's confession that he worries for them, one of Christian's virtues overall, Bydar thinks though he does not say.
Dogging the accountant’s steps, she strides with confidence through the hall and into the meeting room. She hesitates only long enough to give each of the dignitaries a cursory look, including the wolfhound. She hadn’t expected quite so many people… but the situation was what it was. She approaches the large table, lays out the folio of her work on it, then steps back and offers a single precise bow to one and all. ”Cenna Proviso, tattooist of Varisia and child of Ustalav - originally. How may I serve?” Her look is as curious as her words are polite.
When the tattooist comes close to them, Bydar notes the precise bow, though the meaning of the weapon eludes him as he is not the soldier others in the party are, but the folio catches his eye and he cannot help but look it over, "This is...amazing work. You've a skilled hand and a deft eye it appears. You do holy symbols someone tells me?" A beat, "Ah, forgive me, I'm Bydar, Cleric of Shelyn. Given the goddess I serve you can guess why I'm delighted to have another artist in town."
The folio is five sheets of vellum densely covered (front and back) in pen & ink drawings of animals (mundane and mystical), trees, abstract designs, flowers, sacred geometry, buildings (holy sites), holy symbols, people, protective symbols, and text in languages familiar and unknown. Aside from the commoner languages, Bydar recognizes Draconic. But instead of the text being a general phrase, it is curiously specific.
"You do holy symbols someone tells me?"
Cenna nods and draws Bydar’s attention to the back side of the 4th page. A quarter of it is crowded with Desnan butterflies, Calistrian wasps, and Shelyn’s songbirds… in various styles (from fairly realistic to very abstract), color palettes, and poses. Some are the traditional images and others appear to be in flight and/or the artist’s re-imaginings. There are also sigils of several other gods and empyreal lords.
"You've a skilled hand and a deft eye it appears… Given the goddess I serve you can guess why I'm delighted to have another artist in town."
Cenna loosens up a measure as the conversation turns to art. "Thanks! I'm happy to be here. I show my designs on vellum because it is close to most people's skin. With my work, what you see is what you get." she adds with a note of pride.
Cenna loosens up a measure as the conversation turns to art. "Thanks! I'm happy to be here. I show my designs on vellum because it is close to most people's skin. With my work, what you see is what you get." she adds with a note of pride.
The pride is noted, and he smiles, "Yes, I've never considered a tattoo before, but in this case I think I will give into temptation, So many variations possible, I'll have to think about it. My own meager talents for art go into sculpture." Bydar glances again at the Songbird in flight "VERY tempting." He says "I couldn't help but notice the Quote from the Acts of Iomadae... the fourth act? Any reason for that specific verse?"
A half-smile crosses her face. ”A few. It’s an inspiring piece of history from the second battle of Encarthan. Do you know the story? Iomedae found a regiment of broken and defeated knights laying on the battlefield and rallied them. Grievously wounded, they rose up to hold the line against a legion of Tar-Baphon’s wraiths ‘until dawn cometh’ – with the hope of reinforcements arriving. Dying, they held their ground and won.”
”In Ustalav, we know the dead well. We draw strength from the idea that – if our wills are strong enough – ordinary men and women can beat back the darkness sometimes. Giving in to despair is buying your own coffin.”
Bydar nods "A stirring epic... and well said. The idea that ordinary men and women can help hold back the darkness is one of the beliefs I hope we're fostering here."
To both ladies he says "If either of you follows a certain god or goddess and hopes to meet fellow worshipers let me know if it not offend. I try to coordinate the priests and congregations within the town and a bit beyond and can make introductions." He offers.
"I'm fond of Desna but I don't feel a need to specifically seek out her worshippers. My interests are varied."
Hope is a powerful motivator. Sometimes that is all that remains when the darkness comes.
He looks up from the tattoo book and looks to the artist.
Hope guides me.
He stands taller.
When the time comes to build the Tower of Hope, I desire it to be a beacon for those in need. A light to guide them...for hope is seeing light in spite of being surrounded by darkness. I would ask that you and Bydar put your heads together on that project.
He smiles.
That is if you are interested.
He chuckles slightly and waves his hand for her to wait.
You will be tested first of course. I know quite a few soldiers that will be wanting some new ink when they arrive.
He mumbles under his breath, but it is still audible to all.
They will drink the bar dry first of course...and then ink.
Cenna raises an eyebrow that expresses a dollop of surprise, a hint amusement, and a dash of confusion. "I'm sorry, are you offering me a position?" She speculates on titles, trying a couple on in a self-deprecating manner, "Court Tattooist? Advisor to the Court on Matters of Ink?"
It is a possibility. This depends on your skills and how well the Dracos takes to you.
The tattooist's eyes fire at the implied question as to the level of her talents. Based on the look on her face, Christian is reasonably certain that this petite woman doesn't back down from a dare. "Ohhh... challenge accepted, chief."
Knee-jerk reaction over, Cenna's face becomes more sober, possibly a bit hesitant. "If you're serious then you should know a couple things before making a bargain, you'd rather not. I've gained a reputation in some spots of the River Kingdoms and Numeria. Nothing bad as far as the common people go. But - depending how superstitious you are - it can make some folks uncomfortable..." She stops dissembling and gets to the point, "I'm a sorceress. When trouble blows in my direction, sometimes I incinerate it. That's made me unpopular with some monstrous tribes recently and caused some townsfolk to worry."
He was about to comment about a merchant he knew who followed Desna, but Bydar's eyebrows lift up at the mention of sorceress, "Interesting." He looks to Brandt and Christian, "Given the Academy understandably taking up so much of Syretia's time right now... that could be handy, perhaps?"