Though she has spent over a century in and around the woods, this is the first time that Brennadara has been thus lured to a feast by a Satyr. As her head clears she tries to keep her calm and assess the situation. Glancing around to make sure that all are safe and accounted for she addresses the strange musician.
"It is a fine feast and lovely music, young lord. To what do we owe the honor of your attention and this celebration?"
Her mind returning, Anri is immediately hostile!
She draws her weapon, and begins to make an advance upon the creature, spear pointed, who has about one second to explain himself...
With a start, Elinil awakens from his entrancement in the music, crying out "Oh, you play so beautifully!", then espying Anri's enthusiasm, he shouts "HOLD, Anri, this is yet to be a battlefield!"
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The satyr bows, his forehead almost scraping against the tip of the spear. "Erdretti Valsax at your service. My, what an unusual eating utensil you have there." he says, smiling coyly at Anri. "I invited you here to feast, to celebrate the turning of a new day from rain to sun, and to celebrate the wedding of my friends." he waves his hands towards two small figures sitting on toadstools at the end of the rock table.
You hadn't noticed the figures until he waved, but those who know of Sprites know they often lurk unseen. They each wear a crown made of flowers sewn together with vines from the forest.
"May I present the newlyweds, Irietan and Fillidelle."
Anri is soothed by Elinil's stern words, perhaps with renewed respect at his uncharacteristic forwardness, and so, though not without visible reluctance, she lowers her spear, and bites her tongue, flinging a retort in her head inaudibly: "For unusual prey and present company!" She silently swears to take this beast's head some day...
...But, as that day is not today, she listens to what it has to say, not retreating her body on inch back, nor deigning to speak just quite yet.
It takes her a few more moments to cool enough to notice the newlyweds.
Before leaving Revna ensured to get another serving of milk for Filtiarn and some more fresh meat. Though the rain she kept him under her furred cloak close to her body to keep him warm. Even if this mea nt that she would get soaked through. It was more that obvious that Revan treated the warg pup more like a child of her own than an animal's pup.
When the rain let up Revna set Filtiarn down so that he could walk around but she kept a very close eye upon him so much so that when she heard the music she scooped him up protectively. When she saw it was a satyr she was half in Anri's camp when it came to her idea of how to handle this but when it seemed he meant no harm Revna calmed a bit.
"Wed-ding?" Revna asked curiously as she raised an eyebrow. "OH! This Promising?"
Anri exchanges an eye contact with Revna, pleased she was ready to have her back.
Thoughtfully: First an Adoption, now a Wedding... She looks towards the satyr again.
And hopefully next...
Kazmukh blinks in surprise as he comes to his senses. "A blessing on your wedding."
How much time has passed, I wonder? I'd rather deal with a den of cutpurses in the capital than these shenanigans.
Without much experience with satyrs, he's suspicious, but he tries to follow Elinil's lead.
..., drinking wine and eating fruit and berries set upon a natural rock table. ...
** spoiler omitted **
"A handfasting you say, a joyous event worthy of celebration!" Elinil starts digs out his fiddle...
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Irietan and Fillidelle smile at your well-wishes. Irietan flutters off his toadstool. He flutters over to a wineskin, using it to fill the cups in front of each of you. His high-pitched voice rings out "Come, let us toast to Fillidelle, the most beautiful of all the creatures of the wood."
While Irietan is obviously smitten, Fillidelle is remarkably plain for a fae creature. All the stories you read would have you believing each sprite is prettier than the last. This one must be the first among that line of thinking. Not ugly by any stretch, but no prettier than a common girl of the city.
Erdretti raises his glass "Here, here, a toast to the beauty of the mosswood!" he exclaims with exuberance. He drinks deep, hardly waiting for you to raise you own.
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Br Nature
Re nature
Re Lore: Forest
You've heard stories of faery feasts. While satyrs are randy and often rude, they mostly like a good party. You know that fae creatures often do not celebrate special events like weddings and the like- very few things like that happen in the first world- but that when treated with respect and shown a more playful side, sprites can bestow tokens of appreciation on their guests.
Spurning the idea or attacking usually results in long-term harassment and "pranks" which can be quite deadly in the wrong circumstances.
You've heard ancient tales of how faeries can steal the nutrutional value from food- called 'foyson theft'- leaving you full but essentially starving. When combined with wine, it can get you drunk much quicker than you realize.
You've heard of the lustiness of satyrs and that they generally just like to party and make mirth. As long as they are not turned down rudely they are generally harmless, although they will try and insist that the party go on and on, a diplomatic withdrawal can be a wiser course of action once good manners are satisfied.
"Food of Fae." Revna muttered as she looked over the food given. "Can no be food some time." She told the group, her tone very smile and matter of fact. "Mix with drink, drunk come sooner." She added with a slight chuckle.
"This, Satyr seen fine." Revna shrugged. "Be nice, they be nice."
Brennadara motions to a spot beside her, encouraging Anri to take a seat if she is willing. As she does, regardless of Anri's reaction, she addresses the sprites, raising her cup and taking a shallow drink. "To the beauty of Fillidelle and the joyous occasion of the wedding. We are honored to be here as your guests. Now, if we're lucky, Elinil will put that fiddle of his to use for some entertainment to mark the occasion."
Anri takes her seat. She raises her glass. She listens. Then looks toward Elinil.
Brennadara nods along to the music as Elinil begins to play a lovley tune. Partway through she leans over to Anri to say, "Remind me to tell you about living among gnomes for multiple decades at some point in the near future. We're here unexpectedly, but will most likely be fine. Though it's disconcerting we're better off enjoying it as we can for multiple reasons."
After the first song ends Brennadara's clapping is because she truly enjoyed it. Sometime during the second song, when she has eaten the food she is interested in, she stands and holds out a hand in the direction of the hosts. "A celebration calls for dancing! Who will join me?"
Anri most certainly does not dance!
To Brennadara (before she gets up) "I don't trust him, and I don't like feeling trapped. You'll understand if my enthusiasm for this forced charade is reduced to a muted lackluster down from an all-out rage!" Crossing her arms and counting down the hours / minutes / seconds in her mind.
It'd take nothing short of a full lunar eclipse to shake Anri's foul mood!
"No dance." Revna said very simply as she had set Filtiarn down to let him explore a little. "Watch Filtiarn. Trouble find else." She tried to explain as she gladly played with the pup when he wanted. However no matter what Revna was on her toes. While still a puppy Filtiarn was a warg and till taught otherwise may find trouble too easily.
"It's been a long while, since I had a dance." Kazmukh steps up to the dancers and joins in. His steps are rusty, and a bit simple--definitely more town dancing than court steps.
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Erdretti joins in the dancing, playing his pipes along with Elinil's violin- sans magical effects this time- the blend of pipes and fiddle making beautiful harmonies together.
Irietan and Fillidelle dance in the way of faeries- a fluttering, rhythmic three dimensional dance of flight and light touches. Their joy and love shine through their movements.
Revna manages to keep Filtiarn from trying to eat the sprites, the desire of which their dancing fluttering seems to excite in him. He is satisfied with the last of the extra milk from the hostel instead.
After some time reveling-joyfully, reluctantly, or otherwise, it seems the fae have been satisfied with your celebration of their union. If allowed, they kiss each of their guests on the cheek and attach a tiny ring of holly and vine somewhere on the clothing of each guest.
The fae folk thank you for your company and bid you farewell. Leaving their company, you find that the sun has already set and you are in the woods at night without having found a place to camp.
Brennadara looks around at the glen, now empty of all but the party, assessing the situation. "Well, we're well fed at least. The dark isn't as much of an obstacle for me as for some, so if we like I can either take a quick look around to see if there's anywhere nearby that looks to be a better spot to set up camp than this or try to find the way back to the road. Which do we value more?" As she waits for the party to come to a consensus the monk tries to figure out if she even knows more or less where the group is.
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Strangely enough, the Marshal is not with you.
Br Survival
Br Nature
You're pretty sure, after checking for a few minutes, that you are actually several miles northwest of where you were.
You're having a little difficulty remembering if the marshal was at the wedding feast with you. you think she was, but every time you try to remember something specific she did or said there, you can't picture it.
You find a place within 15 minutes that will do for camping tonight.
Anri burns with paranoia. As either the Marshal and Pan are working together, or they are the same person. But either way she was tricked. They were tricked. "I think we should re-evaluate what we know about this Marshal, and what that means for this mission." she strokes the skins tied to Hestur.
"What motive might she have for setting out with a band of thugs (us) to round up the dissidents to the newly legitimate queen?" Talking as she sets up camp.
"Thug?" Revna asked with a raised eyebrow as she set up her bedroll and laid a likely sleeping Filtiarn upon it.
"Of Marshal... No sure." She admitted with a rolling shrug of her shoulders. "Well thought... Till no respect. Fear more than single face?" Revna asked Anri.
Brennadara looks around at the glen, now empty of all but the party, assessing the situation. "Well, we're well fed at least. The dark isn't as much of an obstacle for me as for some, so if we like I can either take a quick look around to see if there's anywhere nearby that looks to be a better spot to set up camp than this or try to find the way back to the road. Which do we value more?" As she waits for the party to come to a consensus the monk tries to figure out if she even knows more or less where the group is.
"Well, that was an new audience! My fingers are sore though. This is a nice spot you have found Brennadara, I think we should camp here for the night. Any of our intrepid wilderness types think they can find us some food for the pot, or shall we just fall back on rations?"
Anri burns with paranoia. As either the Marshal and Pan are working together, or they are the same person. But either way she was tricked. They were tricked. "I think we should re-evaluate what we know about this Marshal, and what that means for this mission." she strokes the skins tied to Hestur.
"What motive might she have for setting out with a band of thugs (us) to round up the dissidents to the newly legitimate queen?" Talking as she sets up camp.
Later on, as Anri brings up the Marshal. "That is a dark thought Anri, but there are other possibilities. Legend speaks of the Fey carrying off those they are enamoured with and so forth, and the Marshal's a gnome, the most fey-connected of the mortal races... Could she be in a fey bower somewhere? Might we have to rescue her?"
"The lord vouched for the marshal, and that's good enough for me. I just hope she hasn't got caught up in some fey mischief."
Challenging the dwarf's thinking "But Kazmukh, how do you think he became king? And how long ago? And for how long hence forth this day?" Anri draws upon her time perusing history books at the library "My point is this: Unlike in other parts of the world with more stable governments, rulerships here are more frequently subject to swift coups and transfers of power. And all I'm saying is, is that on at least more than one occasion, one of these transitions has occurred from within a marriage. I dunno how dwarves do it, but humans usually marry for power, and, while our monarch's situation may indeed be mutually beneficial to both parties - and praise be the happy couple if that's the case! - that circumstance is no more fleeting in the grand scheme of things as, say..." Trying to "relate" to him "...a vein of gold or silver "safely" resting under a foot-and-a-half of earth inside of an active mine!" Thinking she has made her point.
She charges the rest of her comrades now "Are you all just totally okay that we had just gotten charmed out of out wits, and sat down to a series of irritating distractions, now left on a mission to simply dispatch a band of "criminals" whose "crimes" are merely explained to us with sufficient detail as to rouse our fighting spirit!?" Standing up now. "Don't misjudge: I enjoy a good fight! But too I malinger Not under the misaprehension that I am also little more than a foot soldier - and ultimately a foot note! - in someone else's company of armed men, or their story of conquest..."
Looking at Revna now "Með öðrum orðum, já, bragg!!"
Anri sits.
In other words, yes, a thug!
After scouting around long enough to find a suitable campsite, Brennadara leads the others to it and then helps to make camp. After speculation about the Marshal has gone on a bit, she speaks up. "That encounter with Erdretti was about what I'd expect from the Fae here in the Narlmarches. It wasn't planned and we didn't ask for it, but that sort of chaos is to be expected when dealing with them. The Marshal's absence now, and the fact that none of us seem to be sure when it happened is noteworthy, but not yet alarming. We played the game well enough and they gave us a parting gift, so probably no harm will have come to her from the Satyr."
The elf looks out into the dark of the woods as she continues, "The interactions and reactions she had with the Warg and to the stranger afterward were all as I would expect, and we did know that she'd be leaving us about at this point in our journey anyhow. Our best approach is probably to continue with the mission we've been given. She's competent enough to be appointed Marshal and knows this area, so it's unlikely she needs rescuing. Further, dealing with a growing band of bandits is something that she'd need to assign people to and the kingdom doesn't have a particularly veteran scouting corps yet, so our selection despite our lack of experience shouldn't be too surprising. There could be other explanations for our being here, but as of right now there's no reason to think they'd be better than that so far as I can tell."
"But we should sleep now in any case and sort the details in the morning when it's light. If we like, we can go take a look at the glen once more first off to see if there's any evidence of the Marshal having been there, or leaving. For now I'll take the first watch unless someone else is particularly eager to."
"Brennandara has the immediate plan - dawn watch for me if you please". With that, Elinil beds down.
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Brennadara finds several notes written and sealed with wax by the Marshal in their packs. One is addressed to the Queen, one to the Warden, one to Dungrir Kelper, and one to someone named Fiegie Mosswaxer. The letters smell slightly of lavender and are wrapped in a bow made of vine.
The night's watches pass uneventfully save the spare owl or odd mouse and the plethora of crawling insects common to encampments such as this.
At some point in the night, Filtiarn snuck out and caught a mouse. It's decapitated body is left as a present for Revna, near the place she bunks down with the contented warg pup.
The new day brings warmer weather.
When Revna awoke and saw the mouse that her pup child had brought to her she praised his hunting skills. However she did scold him on leaving alone during the night. Either way she scooped Filtiarn up into her arms and hugged him to her, nuzzling him gently. "Fín veiðimaður þú verður strákurinn minn" Revna told him softly, her voice warm and loving. She allowed him to eat the rest of the mouse if he wishes, if not she chewed the raw meat she had gotten for him and fed it to him as his breakfast.
While they ate their morning meal she looked to the others "With Marshal gone, we move on?" Revna asked, though her eyes fixed upon Filtiarn. It seemed Revna was learning to split her attention well.
Brennadara finds several notes written and sealed with wax by the Marshal in their packs. ...
I am also not sure what you mean here, Reckless. Do you mean that these notes were in the Marshall's portion of the gear on Hestur, or were they distributed into the parties packs (like she was expecting us to deliver them)?
Further, I am assuming that the Marshall had some of her gear on Hestur, just like the rest of us. Is that part of her gear still there?
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To be more specific, the letters were bundled together and in the saddlebags of Hestur, along with some equipment that likely belonged to the Marshal; a set of writing implements and paper, a wax- melting tin, some wax, a few extra rations, her tent and bedroll, a few torches, and
the paint for marking signs.
The Marshal's weapons, armor, magic items, and anything else she was wearing is not in these packs, nor is her signet ring, which she also likely had on her.
"Anri, this argues against the theory that the Marshal is abandoned us for her own ends; I much doubt she would have abandoned her correspondance, both to the royal court (the queen, the Warden) and personal ( Fiegie Mosswaxer is obviouly family). She has apparently been kidnapped by the fey, for their own ends. Anybody have any bright ideas?"
"May I remind you Elinil that is was you who talked me down from serving that beast outright!"
"Unless there is strong objection, I'm going to open a couple of these..."
"So, we either venture into the woods to find the Marshal, or continue on our way and send that correspondence" Kazmukh frowns.
Brennadara shares the discovery of the letters and the rest of the Marshal's supplies with the rest of the group in the morning. After thinking and listening a bit, voices her opinions.
"The letters, with no instructions to us to deliver them, as well as her bedroll and tent are evidence against the Marshal expecting to leave us when she did. It's curious, as the interactions that we had with the Fae on their own were somewhat typical; unsolicited and whimsical, and but with an exchange of entertainment for boons that one can expect from the encounter. If something was happening between the Fae and the Marshal, it would appear to be on another level, which would be consistent with our lack of memories of her presense; I wonder what dealings with them she might have had in the past."
At Anri's suggestion to open the letters Brennadara does object. "Unless you have a particular reason to expect to learn something that will help us I would rather we leave them unmolested. Given the hasty nature of her departure I don't expect to learn anything of her whereabouts in them, I don't have strong reason to expect that we're being led into a situation beyond what was described, and I know that I would prefer others not open my correspondence should I send them. I could of course be wrong about either of the first two of those." Brennadara half shrugs and leaves the rest of the discussion to the others.
"At this point I would propose that we head back to the glen where the wedding took place to see if there are any traces of the Marshal. Should we find evidence she was there and any sort of clue as to where she might have gone we can decide then whether to pursue it. If we don't find such evidence we should likely continue on to the village we we planning on getting to yesterday and then to Dawnsglen Lodge where we can at least deliver one of the letters and possibly see if this sort of behavior from Marshal Mosswaxer is to be expected. Gnomes tend towards unpredictable. Less so than the Fae, but this could still be precedented."
Revna had gotten out her tools for working jewelry, or well her kind of jewelry, and one of the claws from the Warg they took down. She began slowly make a hole at the larger end of the claw, obviously to put a kind of string through it at a later date. She looked up often however, to watch over Filtiarn as he played. She would have to make toys for him soon, something for him to learn and sharpen his skills with.
"Read if must." Revna told Anri. "Though bet little come of use." She said before blowing the shaving from the claw and kept going. "Go back, uha... trace steps? Find Marshal possible. No, then to village." She agreed. When she finished making the hole she began to decorate the claw itself with swirls and a large snowflake on the top of it.
Watching Revna, Elinil thinks and then speaks : "Revna, your keeping the pup, right... And he's going to grow up smart like a person - able to talk and all that, right... I think we should both rethink our plans to make adornments out of bits of his dad; he might not be real impressed with us..."
Continuing on to the group as a whole, "With that bit of housekeeping out of the way, Brennadara's plan matches my thinking. In particular, I would not open the marshal's letters. I'm sure she expects a level of discretion from her agents - I think opening her correspondance would be a last resort for clue gathering."
Seeing she is, again, utterly outvoted - except by Kazmukh who seems to frequently refrain from weighing in - a temperament completely foreign to the wizard! - Anri tries to negotiate a concession:
"Alright, let's go back - but if I see that trollopsin' pipe-playing pan, this time I'm taking his head if he does anything but give a straight answer, and I want you guys to have my back."
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Cantrips > Chill Touch, Daze, Electric Arc, Ray of Frost, Shield, plus Sigil
First > Gust of Wind, Shocking Grasp, Pest Form
"Hmmm, this is likely to be an issue in the future. Let me start by saying that your frustration at the lack of control we had when encountering the Satyr is entirely understandable. We were certainly charmed and brought to a ceremony against our will with no recourse. Should a human, dwarf, elf or gnome have done that I think that we all would have seen it as an appalling violation of our rights. I take no issue with you seeing it that way as it happened yesterday. It's a valid reaction to the day's events."
"Having said that, the Fae don't feel bound by our norms and we're in their territory in these woods more than they're in ours regardless of the existence of Yggdreth. Expecting them to share our sensibilities by default is a good route to disappointment. Without the appropriate strength, trying to force them to is a good route to our harm. In time perhaps our strength will be such that we can demand that they follow our rules wherever we are should that be the course we choose, but I would prefer not to test our ability to do that just yet."
"I don't mean to lecture, and it's likely that we will see nothing more of Erdretti today in any case. Your actions are your to choose and I won't let you engage a foe alone, but if we can leave violence against the forces of nature out here as a last resort rather than a first threat I would appreciate it."
"Right, let's see if we can find the satyr's glen again...I know nothing of the fey, except for tavern tale bullswash, but I'll be surprised if we can find it again."
Turning to Anri, " Anri, I know you're too smart to be playing the hothead against forces that may be overwhelming. Consider how he wasn't the slightest bit concerned about your spear at our last encounter, and how easily his enchantments took control of all of us..."
"'Smart'" Half-scoff, half-tease, she adds "I know when I'm outvoted..." Clearly not wanting to "get back into it" seeing as who is "right" or "wrong" is simply moot, given that the party has decided to go back to the glen. Some silent thought, and Anri adds "I will back your play, Brennadara, Elinil,..." Looking towards Revna and Kazmukh, she silently includes them each with a knowing nod.
The half-elf holds her spear aloft, massaging the blade with the flat of her thumb.
Watching Revna, Elinil thinks and then speaks : "Revna, your keeping the pup, right... And he's going to grow up smart like a person - able to talk and all that, right... I think we should both rethink our plans to make adornments out of bits of his dad; he might not be real impressed with us..."
"Áminning" Revna said as she worked on. "For him. Why bad? Warg kill warg many time. You kill kind too. Often take what other held no?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "No change. Father evil, still father. Should know... more when, I raise alone. And name, is Filtiarn."
Revna nodded in return to Anri. "Ekki hafa áhyggjur, það kemur tími þar sem þeir eru hinir úreltu." She told her, before looking over to Filtiarn with a smile. "Eða þú getur bara ekki verið sama hvað þeim finnst þegar kemur að bréfunum og opnað þau hvort sem er. Stundum verður þú að gera það sem þú telur rétt."