Nicolette was now twenty-five and troubles began to arise in the region. It was at this time she picked up her grandfather’s greatsword, a family heirloom and recalled the lessons of her youth. She set out to seek vengeance on the demon that did this.
The small thorpe of Yardley had very little to offer. There was her parent's inn. A simple church and meeting hall. Four dozen homes which double as the needed professions of the village. Lastly was the three towers. Three tall stone pillars that let a wooden tower be built between them and here were the Smiths. Three generations worked hard in their forges.
She knew of some that could help but at what price or degree of pursuasion would be needed? There was Matthew Smith, the forth son of his father and just a year younger than her. Loarin was an older gentleman who helped with the church, especially with an unorthodox problems. The last prospect was Baris the halfling, always into mischief and ready for some fun.
News began to reach her a fortnight ago of terrible events in distant cities happening, and having set her affairs in order, and with not much information to go on, she left. How could she fight a demon? Even now, with her simple skill in the way of the sword, she knew there was no possible way.
On her back, the long greatsword of her grandfather's sat in its sheath made from the hollowed-out ancient tusk of a mammoth. She had been practicing with the blade for some time now and at the very least, knew her skill was enough to spar on the level of her older brother before he had been trained as a military man. Still, she had a lot to learn. Time was not on her side, however.
She could have taken her father's armor, a set of nice chainmail, but it was sentimental to him and instead, she settled on her aunt's armored skirt, a somewhat attractive outfit and yet functional for traveling in the wilderness, and a leather jacket.
She had prepared a pack the evening before in anticipation for that afternoon, and now that she was on the road, it clanked slightly on her back as she went.
Sinching up her belt, the beautiful innkeeper's daughter looked around at the various locales available to her with foggy eyes. The images were hazy, but she knew them from living there all her life. As for the citizens, most were simple farmers or no-one capable to help, but perhaps Matthew could help her, and perhaps Loarin knew something that could aid her. Would they though? After the terror that all knew had happened that horrific night?
Without hesitation and ignoring the twinge of fear within her, she took a ribbon from the pouch at her side and tied up her wavy, oak-brown hair, and with that, set off first for the church.
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Outside of the church Loarin is busy working the garden with the priest of the perish. Father Brown was much older than Loarin with a balding spot surrounded by white hair. He is a very fat man that enjoys food with all of his congregation. At your approach Father Brown sits up and looks in your direction as Loarin gets a bucket with a ladle to share water.
The long walk in the heat of the sun and her armor made the young warrior sweat bead upon her forehead by the time her walk ended at the doors of the church. Outside, she could hear the chopping sound of a hoe or shovel digging into the dirt and naturally assumed the priest was caring for his garden. Instead of entering, she looped around while lingering in the shade of the building.
"Hallo? she announces in a sing-songy tone. "Mr. Valeguard? Father Brown?" Upon coming around the corner and seeing them, she smiles brightly, showing the attractive brightness of her youth, but despite her kind smiles, there is a hidden twinge of guilt that lingers on her face.
"How are the two of you?" she asks in a voice loud enough for the more elderly Father Brown to be able to hear her.
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The beads of sweat are obvious on his brow as his shirt is nearly drenched as well. He grins through the pain that is still set on his face, "Oh my dear Nicolette, we do the good work. Even in weariness we can find what we need." He then takes another gulp from the ladle.
Loarin seems in much better mood and spirit, though his clothes are even more wet. With a nearly perfect white smile he laughs, then states in a friendly manner, "you should let me use my orison on you, it would cool you down more."
Father Brown smiles at him and just states, "the power of the gods should not be used so friviously. "
Loarin then acknowledges you with a three finger wave and his iconic grin.
Nicolette herself was admired by the priest due to her odd connection with the divine. She should be dead but was restored, and not only that, was given unique powers. At times of trouble in the thorp, she too had aided the priest in the healing of people via the power of the gods. Her own perspective was quite the opposite of Father Browns, however. She was given her gifts to use them, not keep them idle. For once, she shuts her mouth on the matter as she isn't there to discuss such things.
"Father," she says respectfully, although surely her respect also is extended to Loarin too and she is clearly asking the both of them with her eyes, "I've asked you before about demons and you've rejected telling me about them because my grief was too near at the time. I haven't pressed the issue, but...I would greatly desire to know more about them."
The girl seems ready for the road, and the look of disappointment on her face seems to communicate that if she isn't told, she will be heading forward down the road blind to what is to come.
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His face takes on a stern look. He sees the pain of Father Brown now of internal as well. He takes a step forward and says in a voice not to be argued with, "Inside NOW!"
Inside the church with you he shuts the doors and quickly says, "Don't ask him what he doesn't know about. Father Brown is a good home grown priest with almost no experience with demons. I on the other hand am a cleric of Pelor, His Blazing Majesty. What do you want to know of demons or devils?"
Nicolette obviously saw the priests as authority figures considering her lacking experiences with her gifts, so at Loarin's command, she seems to shrink a bit in an embarrassed fashion. Like back when she was a teenager getting scolded, she folds her arms around her waist in a protective way. Just as he is about to come to force her inside, she will relent and move inside. She decides it best to comply in every way possible to get the information she needs.
When the doors shut, she takes in a deep breath and more strongly spins face him. She may be a child in his eyes, but with her parents useless the last many years, she's grown up strong and has not been used to being bossed about like that for some time--not since the mage used to do it.
Loarin begins to explain the situation to her and her arms seem to relax at her side. "I'm sorry, I just thought...Well...I just thought he didn't want to tell me because I shouldn't know. Not because he didn't know." She moves her folded arms up to her chest in a more authoritative stance as she is asked what she wants to know. "Well to start...I want to know everything. Where do they come from, how do they get here? What should I be worried about with them? Can they be killed?
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He shakes his head at her questions and tells her what she needs to hear, "No, you want to know where IT came from. How did IT get here, and IT can be killed. To teach you everything I know of demons and devils could take hours. But to get the specific answers you need, we need to go see your old master, the mage. He won't like it and to make sure he tells us the truth we need leverage. I will teach you all I know when we have time. Oh yes I know of your demon and your turmoil. All I ask is that IT will be sent back to the abyss, you leave Father Brown alone, and don't ask me why."
Nicolette bites her inner lip and sucks in a breath as Loarin hits the nail on the head. She did not like his proposed plan--not at all. Her body begins to sway and twist in discomfort as he further tells her what she needs to do. A bashful red hue now floods her cheeks and neckline as her strong womanly pose seems to deflate.
Nervously, she reaches back to ensure her hair was up. A nervous tick to be sure as if she were readying for battle. Frustratingly, all is already in order and her hands flop down at her sides.
"Alright, agreed...How...I mean, what leverage could we hold against Andrew?"
"How can we be sure he won't turn us into anything...unnatural or just kill us?"
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He reaches out to steady you. For a moment not sure what to say. But then continues.
"You are one thing we could use. Andrew has likely left the demonology or at least not his forefront research. You have the memories and truth we can use against him if he doesn't agree to help. Also being a leader at the Mortaroes Arcane Guild means he has prestige to lose. He could try to transform or kill us but hopefully he won't resort to that. We might want to recruit a mage to counterspell. Also we might want to get some other protection. We won't be seeing Andrew anytime soon, we must prepare." he lays out some plans before you.
Her heart calms a bit as he reaches out to steady her. It is quite normal for her to jump at touches upon her person, but he likely had been one of the few who had helped her overcome that in the past. A combination of not seeing very well and being a bit jumpy due to the events of what she had to dealt with, made her not the most heartwarming, huggy type of person. Still, his touch was gentle and kind so she eases. The fact they also were not going to the mage anytime soon also helps ease her.
"He's a bitter, angry sort of man...or he was. I haven't seen him since I left. I have no idea what he's been doing, and frankly, I don't care."
There is a bit of hostility in her tone. What he was doing with the demon in his possession likely was some sort of evil act anyways she supposed. Who knew though?
"I don't know any mages around these parts, and I have no money to recruit one if I did find one. I could work years and not afford their wages, so I am not sure of what to do other than follow in my father and grandfather's footsteps. I just don't know if I can."
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"You can and you will. If you need to you can let me handle your burden. Let me go gather... no come with me. I will point out my gear so you will understand their uses in case it comes to that. Demons are very tricky and difficult enemies. Its even worse if they know you are coming." He says and explains as he heads past the pews and down the stairs to the rooms below.
There you can see six rooms are below the chapel. He takes you to the middle one and opens the door. Entering first and he begins to collect his gear. "Do you have a holy symbol? If not you can have one of my spares." he says handing you a wooden circle with a sun carved into its face. A small simple chain is attached to it. He then continues, "As a cleric I need my holy symbol to cast spells. If something happens to mine I will need you to get me yours before I can cast any more." He continues talking about gear and stowing it in his backpack or on his traveling robe. Though he dons his armor before the robe.
"You should always some some string and chalk to help not get lost when in dungeons or caves. This is my chalk pouch, which holds both. Having a signal whistle is best in case we get separated but if you can adjust its whistle by covering part of it, you can coordinate with others depending the sound." He continues talking about some of the other gear but notices your own gear and points out one last item that has helped him in the past.
He points out his weapon cord which attaches around his wrist and is attached to its pommel. "There is a bit of restriction of movement but it is very hard to disarm as well. Plus I can drop it and use my holy simple easily."
Now all packed up he follows you back up to the chapel. Outside he closes the door and walks over to Father Brown, with resolve he says, "Don't worry, I will handle this and with Pelor watching us, we will prevail. Please do pray for us and if any of my brothers come calling tell them I will be heading North, then to Lady Amelia's Blue Cross Cathedral."
Father Brown nods his head and waves to you, knowing you likely would not want a hug. "May Pelor watch your steps and guide you in your travels! Oh and Nicolette can take one of my mules if she wants."
Heading back towards town Loarin asks, "Now is there anyone else that you think may be a good companion on this trip of ours?"
She follows Loarin down below and to the middle room. She hadn't been down in this area before and in the dimness of the underbelly, she found it quite difficult to see. With squinting paled eyes, she tried to focus on his hands and what he collects.
"No, I used to have a symbol," she answered him, "but it disappeared the night I died. If I recall, it was torn off by the demon, but it's so hard to remember anything that happened that night."
She would gladly take the symbol and runs her fingers over its wooden edges. Her other hand scooped up the chain and dangled it loosely in her palm. At his words, she squinted her eyes and took in the lessons he had to give.
Nicolette was an adventurer in spirit, but not in action. Loarin clearly seemed to have experience, so she listened closely. As his lessons came to a close, she put away the symbol in her pack headed back upstairs.
Quietly she resided in the background as the two priests talked. "Lady Amelia's Blue Cross Cathedral" she repeated in her mind, almost missing Father Brown's wave to her. With a slight delay, she waves back, "Thank you, Father Brown. You are very kind."
She would mount up the mule, and properly place the saddle on it and bring enough feed for the road, but riding it was another story. She was never allowed to ride the beasts of their visitors to the inn. She was wonky in the saddle at best.
To Loarin, she replies nervously unsure of herself in such a moment, "I can't say...I was thinking...Matthew Smith, but I...Should I feel guilty asking someone else to go on this trip? Because I do."
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"That means you care about others, and that is good. You can be straight with them and tell them your plans and see if they want to help you. Or you can give them a chance to get away and be an adventurer. It is your choice how you want to approach it. Honestly both directions are good. Though you can see the validity of one path over the other to be very honest with them. There are other paths you could tread but I won't suggest those." he suggests and does his best to lay out your options.
You eventually get to the Smithery. You can hear the forges and the clattering of metal on metal as the smiths work. You see Matthew before anyone else, being one of the youngest he collects water from the well and brings it in for the other smiths. As most of the younger smiths are working the bellows or working directly with their masters. It could be an older brother, sister, mother, father, uncle, aunt, or even grandfather or mother. The Smiths have been here as long as Nicolette's grandfather and easily twice if not thrice as many.
Matthew worked hard, as his muscles rippled from the four buckets on a load stick. He wore simple breeches and the leather apron of a smith. His hands and arms covered in similar thick leather gloves. His copper red hair blazed in the sun as his freckles spotted his cream colored face. Standing a good head taller than Loarin, Matthew was easily the tallest and strongest lad in town.
After that load of water he returns outside. Putting the load stick and buckets next to the well, he takes his time to fill them as you approach. He smiles at you and just waits.
"Alright...I need to think about it," she replies to Loarin as she goes a bit more silent on the ride over. As the towers rise, she will at times shake her head like someone throwing a plan away and starting from scratch. By the time they get there, she will dismount, having somewhat of a plan in her mind.
"I can handle this," she comments to the priest, "It'd probably be best if I went alone."
Considering the words of the far more wise Loarin, she heads into the smithy. Standing a moment in the inner darkness of the cloister, outside of the eyeshot of Loarin, she undoes her hair from its tied up position and will fan it out. She looks into the inner open-air courtyard where the well is as she brushes back the long wavy curls of her hair behind her shoulders for uniformity. There, in the distance is a veiled figure, but she can just make out it is a man. Nicolette presses her chest over the top of her hide shirt to be more prominent and shapely in form and smoothes out her clothing to appear also more form-fitting. If one were observing her, they may think she was prettying herself, but in actuality, she isn't sure how she looks at the moment. She was more accurately trying to present the best image of herself for a potential business deal; much akin to a job interview. Still the results are the same.
As she walks in, no-one else is seen, but are rather heard. The hazy form of the young man begins to clear in the distance but she can already tell who he is. Even through the haze of her eyes, she can see the shape of Matthew carrying the water and his hair easily gives him away.
"'lo there, Matthew," she calls out in a kinder, cuter voice than she did with Loarin and Father Brown; which was much more reverent.
Normally one to sport a dress or similar outfit rather than one meant for battle, he naturally will be suspicious. As she planned previously, she makes note of any confusion he has toward it and spins, showing him the outfit.
"How do I look? Ready to take on the world?"
"Hey Nicolette, its good to see you. Um, wow you look good, why the armor? You finally going to leave us?" he says as he stops pouring water and faces her fully. One arm crossing over to grab his other, not knowing he is showing his insecurities. As you twirl around to show it off he just watches you, amazed at your beauty. Once you start talking again he closes his mouth and looks down at your boots.
"He seems almost defensive. Sad to see me go?" Her milky eyes search for his and she finds it hard to read his face, but manages. "We both knew this day was coming. I don't know...I'm kind of afraid to go," she confesses.
She will shift over closer to him by where he was pouring water and leans up against the basin as her fingers nervously play with her midriff. The way she is leaned keeps pressure away from her greatsword and sheath, but instead, more on her shapely hip.
"I just wanted to see you before I left. I've taken up with Loarin who plans on teaching me about...well...my end target, but for how long I don't know. In the meantime, I suppose I will do my best to be an Avendar ()," she jokes with a delightful chuckle.
He visibly cracks as you say it, it pains him to see you go. He mumbles out in response, "I'm afraid of you to go."
His thoughts race through his head as emotions well up within him, especially at the thought of you leaving, 'You've always said you would go but I never thought it would come. Don't tease me with touching your midriff. Do I or not?! She is leaving, this is my last chance... Loaein?! Why, NOOO!'
His face scrinches up even more when you say Loarin's name. His grip on his wrist tightens. He doesn't seem to have any words for you. His thoughts and emotions screaming within him.
Like a soldier going off to war whose good friends see and hear them announce it, no-one wants a loved one to potentially die. She can easily perceive the pain on his face and in his voice, even if they were just friends. His words make her smile in pity for a moment as she remembers how she felt when her older brother left them.
"Now that it's come to it, I don't think I can ask it of him." Her heart pounds in her chest at the thought of him facing his death. She felt the same with Loarin, but at least he knew what he was dealing with, but Matthew?
"I know," she says with a sigh. She looks down almost embarrassedly and taps her boot into the dirt that had been softened by the splashes of the water Matthew had been dumping. "I'm going to miss hanging out here...," she pauses a moment and then looks back the direction she came. "I just can't let my actions ruin anything else. I suppose it's time to mend some things."
She grinds her foot a bit more vigorously now into the mud as if ramping up for something. Her hand leaves her midriff and clings onto her jacket's collar in nervousness. She continues saying, "I just wanted to say thank you for being there for me over the years. You've been a good friend."
Slowly she will rise up off the water basin and will move in for a hug. Normally, just bar soap and willow bark shampoo with milk is what she smells like, but today is a special day, and she smells like lavender and mint; as that morning she had a special bath for the day of her departure. The scent is faint, and it is only through the lingering wetness of the middle of her hair that he is smelling it still.
"No!" Its a strong word meant with so many feelings. He didn't know what to say and acted instead. He bent down to let her hug him but he also went in for a kiss on her lips. As unexpected as that was be backed up a moment and added, "He can't have you... I've loved you." Then he freezes again.
She always smelled so good, he didn't have the money for such things. Always so pragmatic with his funds, better tools, armor, weapons, and training. He smelt of sweat, smoke, and oil.
He begins to mumble in the silence, "It won't matter if I stay, but I can be there to protect you. That's why I have been training, for you...
She had already approached him for the hug. Her arms slip around his waist and there she can feel his frustration. It was an emotional parting and he wasn't making it any easier. Normally his hugs were enveloping, as he was much larger than her, but this hug feels different--it feels more like a romantic embrace.
"Is he...? she asks herself, and at that moment her question is answered by him kissing her. If being honest with herself, she had toyed with the notion herself on more than one occasion. She never would have had the confidence to follow through though and the two would have been old folks and possibly died before she would have made a move. Now her heart really was pumping, clouding her already muddled thoughts. She parts from his lips quite weak in the knees.
"He loves me?" she once again asks herself, doing all she can to think. Her denim blue, cloudy eyes search his face as she pulls away to see him. A look of shock is still on her face. Before, she had her normal creamy complexion, but now, her pale cheeks are beet red as well as all the way down her neck in embarrassment. Her face, however, isn't one of disgust or shame. As he mumbles, she tries to speak but can't find words.
"Me...Train?"
Her words are confusing and disjointed, and she realizes it. She blinks hard, attempting to recover as her mind races over their past. He used to be such a skinny boy like his brothers, but now that she recalls, from the moment she mentioned going away he had been obsessed with warfare, if not more than her.
Having finally checked herself, she mutters, "Who...'he'?" She shakes her head. 'No, not right." "I mean...who is 'he'?" In an attempt to muster some sanity in herself, she runs her hand through her hair to nervously right it.
He is focused on her all mind, body, and soul. Though his embarrassment and under confidence were in complete contrast to his emotions and with the possibility of losing her. His thoughts going wild: His body reacting in weird ways, his attraction to her, the ungiven kiss, his whole face and possibly body glowing red. It was almost too much but she asked a question and I should answer it.
Still he was able to focus on her words and tried to connwct the dots, "Loarin... you said... taken up with him..." He shakes his head and begins to take steps from her. The pain even more showing on his face he grabs at the front of his shirt. Slowly taking steps away.
The worst of thoughts coursing through his mind now: 'She doesn't love you, you fool! She has LOARIN, your own trainer!'
In a rather strange turn of events, Loarin forced both of their hands to reveal what the two closed-lipped youths had been wrestling with for some time. What starts with a sudden chuckle, bursts from her open lips as her shocked look turns to one of bewilderment and confusion. Pretty soon she is laughing with her whole body and has to lean back onto the water basin to keep from falling down. It is a delightful laugh and one that eventually she corrects herself from due to her own perception of what his true pain must be. Still, she giggles at it with a hand over her mouth. She rests her teeth on her lower lip as she looks at him with pure delight. Obviously, he was suffering, so she helps clarify.
"Not like that, you dork! I don't care about Loarin like that!" she voices with a rising inflection on her tone; as if to say he's coo-coo-nuts for thinking she felt that way. "...He's traveling with me. Get it?" she tilts her head with a playful smile and bonks herself on the forehead with a toying hand to jest with him. Emotions obviously obfuscated the situation. In hearing her plans to go, his own jealousy and pent up frustration at the suddenness of it clearly played against him. In a way, it was cute to Nicolette how defensive he got over her, but still, she now had this can of worms open.
"Why didn't you say something before?" she asks a bit more seriously as she tugs all her hair to one side--the smile is still on her face. "Poor little boy..." she thinks to herself as she beckons the frustrated, pacing warrior back to her side with a curling finger. There would be no doubt in his mind that Nicolette at times could be quite sexy, and even if not intending to be, this was one of those moments.
At her laughter he froze. He let it hit him as well to chill him out, seeing her laugh. His mind went blank as he watched her, visibly not pained anymore and just standing there with a goofy looking small smile.
"I... uh..." he says fumbling with his words even more as he slowly walks up to her. Her bewitching beauty clouding his mind as it had in the past so many times.
For her, it was hard to see his face, but by squinting she could see him. The delicate features of his body changed from anger and frustration to slack and mirth. Most of all, he came to her when beckoned. With one final giggle and a little play of her teeth over her lips, she got up off the basin bring herself into his arms. The open sheath at her back would clank lightly in its sheath and the rings of her skirt would jingle a bit and he had to be careful not to cut himself on her open blade, but he could finally hold her without worry of the many thoughts over the years he was plagued with.
Now she would kiss him.
Unlike his with anguish and frustration, this one was with tenderness and passion. It was not overly long but a more accurate representation of how she felt. She didn't love him, but out of all the people she could be in love with, it was only him. This was all new to her. Full of emotion. It clouded her mind like some plaything. Something inside of her tugged her away and she would linger apart from his lips by an inch, taking in it all with closed eyes. She would not let him kiss her again as her heart beat like wildfire in her chest.
"I do have to go, you know?" she barely ekes out with a little squeak. Then more clearly, she pronounces in demand, "I must go."
She didn't want to go, she wanted to stay. With all her body she wanted to stay there and ditch Loarin, but duty--duty was more than an infatuation with Matthew. He had to understand that.
With his leather gloves there was no worry of cutting him, though he wasn't worried about that as she wanted a hug. 'She wanted him,' he thought to himself.
Then the kiss... his mind was electric and fireworks. He was responding, when she stopped. He was confused.
Then she said the words again and not what he wanted to hear. He just stood there not understanding.
He turned around and began to walk away. The new pain was there, she didn't love him, she really didn't care for him, and what's possibly even worse she didn't want him with her. The first could have been worked on. With the pain of sorrow he was done. He was broken and something pulled him.
Her words, in a sense, are rejected by his behavior. As he pulls from her, obviously thinking in frustration, she holds an arm around her waist and her other more nervously plays upon her neck.
"What is it?" she asks in a soft voice. "Tell me what you're thinking?" "I cannot ask him to go. I know he wants me to, but I can't. I care too much about him and it needs to be his decision anyway. Not one ruled by emotion or by my influence.
"WHAT IS IT THEN! YOU JUST SAID YOU MUST GO, SO DO IT!!!" He yells in frustration and quickly leaves the courtyard. Into the shadows of the forge. He slams his arm into the door which sparks and leaves a hole behind where his arm hit it. Metal falls to the ground in molten rivulets from the wound in the door.
You can hear some of those closest to the door stop and come to see what has happened.
"Did he really think that he would be able to convince me not to go? Was that what part of his kiss was about?" She would not be moved in her resolve, not even for a long-established crush/love interest. He didn't know what it was like to daily have the deaths of so many families on your head as well as the deaths of any who had died since the demon's escape. Surely she will face judgment for it someday from the gods, and if he preferred to get emotional about it and stomp off, then she would have to part with him.
She finds that her arms are wrapped suddenly around herself in protection from his yelling, and after, not even knowing how they got there. Her face was tight with a mixture of worry, anguish, and anger. He bursts through the door and her heart jumps with shock as she takes a few steps further away from where she was. "Clearly everyone heard that..."
Doors begin to open, and before her embarrassment is too great, she will slowly turn and hide her face with her hair from any who would come and seek her out. Inside, all that elation moments ago now begins to sour. It was the first time he had ever made her cry, and though not much came out due to the damage to her eyes, they were wet enough to require wiping. "I truly thought he of all people would understand my need to go. I really thought he would come with me." With nothing else to do on the matter, she would head back to Loarin. Her sight obscured even more, she tripped over some things that were less easy to see, but didn't let them slow her down as she headed for the structure's cloister and then outer door away from the courtyard.
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As she came away from the building sober and slow like he wondered what happened. He didn't ask for obviously she was raw from it. Then again he knew of them from talking with Matthew.
"Do you want to leave the village or wait a day? He asks looking at her face for any clues to her emotions.
Before you can say anything a roar escapes from within the building. Folks begin to spill out of the forge with worried looks on their faces. Two of them stop and ask, We don't know what is happening inside. Fire has begun to spread would you help us priest?
With that he secures his shield to his arm and his holy symbol in that hand too and ventures into the building. "Come on Nicolette let's help them, hold onto my belt or shirt." He finds people leaving from the smoke, the men making a line to pass water into the building. Loarin walks slowly since the path is obstructed with smoke and he didnt want to run into anyone. He stops at the door pushing it further in and seeing the hole in it, "Someone did this!" he whispers and looks at Nicolette, "What did you say to him?! I need to know before I face him."
Loarin probably had more insight of Matthews feelings concerning her than she did at this point. His words, clear and full of concern for her will, made her stop in the way.
Before she can speak, disaster strikes and there is no confusion in her eyes as to who caused it. Placing her hands over her mouth to hide her shock, she stands in silence as people begin to rush out of the building.
"What has come over him? Is he possessed? Surely he couldn't have done this, not Matthew!"
Once again, the trauma of her past set in. Had she unleashed another monster? Did she set him loose on his own home? She couldn't speak but rather acted on impulse. The smoke billowed out, and she follows Loarin obediently by grabbing the back of his belt and following him in. He would feel her tripping occasionally as they moved near small objects that would have been easy for him to see, but with their slower pace, she doesn't fall.
"I...I don't know!" she answers defensively in a quiet voice. She really didn't understand. "He kissed me, saying he didn't want me to go with you. I think...I think he was a bit jealous, which is not like him. I tried to ease him and he seemed calmer, but every time I mentioned leaving still, it was like I was wounding him. I have to go! Anyways...he stormed off and did this."
Her lower lip quivers a little bit as she was not alright. The fear of people dying again because of her consumed her mind.
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He quickly turns on her, "You aren't children anymore! Oh Pelor! You are suppose to be his anchor, not his breaking point! Aaargghh!" He continues moving forward slowly in his frustration. Dousing flames as he walks with his orison.
The other men are fighting the main flames in the forge but they move along the hallway finding more small fires. You can see the obvious hand print left behind in the stone or wood after he puts out the fire. Then he continues, "You love each other, you were suppose to accept him. Since he took on the role of your protector. He is different than everyone here, he is or was an orphan. A flame set aside to grow. And grow he has. Your black blood only tempers him more. Oil to the flame so to speak. But even before that he gravitated to you. YOU. I don't know if I can do much. You need to go in and accept him then I can try some things. Items prepared for your demon but are needed now. I NEED YOU TO KEEP HIS ATTENTION!"
Even foot prints can be seen on the ground from his passing now. There is time for you to ask questions but eventually you get to his room. He stands there in the middle of the room hunched over and crying. Flames lick his extremities. The room is charred but no flames remain, at least nothing too big. Loarin motions for you to go in, whispering if needed. He continues to produce water soaking you and then putting out some flames that had moved along.
Perhaps it was her own anger over the situation or the fact that Loarin and Father Brown had treated her like a child for too long, but she snaps. Coupled with the childish actions of Matthew, she needed to put her foot down, even if this wasn't the time or place.
"I am not acting like a damn child!" she vocally abuses toward the priest, yanking on his belt to stop him. It is clear as day she is pissed off, and he has never seen such a violent fire in those dull eyes. "Don't you dare ever say that to me again. I am the one being responsible here! I have a duty to uphold and you damn well know it! He knows it! I've told him about my plans ever since I first had them. For some strange reason that has nothing to do with me, he's formed in his head that I don't want him to go! I didn't deny him, I kissed him back! I wanted him to explain how he was feeling but instead, he stormed off and did this! He's out of his mind! He's not himself! So don't you dare criticize me when I'm not the one lighting their own family forge on fire!"
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"I am not acting like a damn child!" she vocally abuses toward the priest, yanking on his belt to stop him.
"Oh really?!" Is his response to your outburst. He casts a few orisons of create water to take down any flames nearby as she continues. He doesn't back down and lets you continue.
"Don't you dare ever say that to me again. I am the one being responsible here! I have a duty to uphold and you damn well know it! He knows it! I've told him about my plans ever since I first had them. For some strange reason that has nothing to do with me, he's formed in his head that I don't want him to go! I didn't deny him, I kissed him back! I wanted him to explain how he was feeling but instead, he stormed off and did this! He's out of his mind! He's not himself! So don't you dare criticize me when I'm not the one lighting their own family forge on fire!"
He says loudly and with plenty of vigor, "Are you done? The building is on fire and we need to find him. I wasn't here." And thinks to himself, 'Child!'
With his leather gloves there was no worry of cutting him, though he wasn't worried about that as she wanted a hug. 'She wanted him,' he thought to himself.
Then they began to kiss again... his mind was electric and fireworks. Their lips met as he held her. Tender passionate kisses that got both of them worked up. Then she stopped to catch her breath. He just stood there soaking it all in.
Then she said the words again, and he had his response ready, "I will go with you. To be there to protect you and be your eyes. After all I want to kiss those lips some more." They last sentence said playfully.
Nicolette played her lips over themselves and over her teeth as they tingled in ways her first kiss as a young girl never did. Short that first kiss was and she was pressured into it. This, however, she wanted. There were passion and intense thoughts running through her head as she stood there frozen, remembering everything of this moment. The smells of the forge were on him, and she did not hate it. It was a smell she had grown to love over the years and one that she looked forward to when together.
Her fingers picked as his shirt as she embraced him above his shoulders in their closeness. Even such a simple touch was decidedly forbidden to them until now. She had confessed to him her need to go on her journey, a powerful statement that would mean the two of them would be separate, but given this new revelation, she didn't want to be. At his words, a breathy giggle escapes her mouth as she tightens around the back of her neck, pulling herself in to kiss him repeatedly again.
With eyes closed, she takes in the experience, and to a near-blind woman, it meant more than most to limit sight to receive more intensity from her other senses. At long last, she would pull herself down off her tippytoes and from slinging her arms around his neck. A final romantic peck of a kiss is given to him. Caringly, she looks up to him with reddened cheeks filled with a heaviness of delight and asks, "Umm...do you need help packing? We had better tell your parents about leaving..." she pauses and reaches down to his hand with hers, and for the first time, interlaces her fingers with his before continuing, "...and about this..."
Her lips, touch, smell, all was ecstasy to him. Until now he had only tid bits of it here and there. His mind coming back to its senses as she talked. His words were slow to come out as he was mentally thinking out loud, "Packing, right... parents, leaving... US!" The last word brightened his face and pulled him fully out of his blissful stupor. He holds their interlocked fingers tightly but not enough to hurt her, bringing it up to his mouth he tenderly kissed the back of your hand. The few days old scruff tickling your skin.
He then set forth into the forge pulling you along beside him playfully. He first aimed at his father. Seeing the two of you he gave a thumbs up and said, "Finally! Let me finish this one off and be right there! Hey family, look who finally decided to see each other, to Matthew and Nicollete!" Cheers could be heard flowing out of the forge. Sooty hands slapped on Matthew's back and reassuring clasps came to lay on your shoulder as you walk by.
Once through the forge and into the second story of the tower you are both bombarded by the children of the Smith families. Matthew's mom, Constance, and cousin, Merrylynn, stand at the doorways with tears in their eyes. Merrylynn shoos the kids outside to go play, going with them. Constance grabs both your free hands and pulls you into a hug. After a few moments she brings you in to sit at the table. Horace, Matthew's father, bustles in then with a towel working the soot and grime off of him. Constance speaks first, "So what do you have to tell us?"
In the past, she wouldn't have gone into the forge. The dark soot-stained surfaces of the metals and panels were near impossible for her to see unless the fires were going, and almost as difficult if they were, so she often had lingered in the courtyard or in the tower when just friends, but now she was along with him side-by-side, even where she wouldn't normally be, with eyes closed. It was an ultimate sign of trust for him to guide her through the dark dimness.
When Mr. Smith spoke up and cheers went out, she embarrassingly dug her face into his arm for a moment and laughed once more, not having expected such a welcome. She then opened her eyes and smiled up at Matthew in a cute way that he would know she enjoyed it.
He also would know she was not the most social of people and large crowds were her nemesis. Despite this, she didn't look miserable at all as they all came and patted them on the shoulders. He would definitely be surprised when she actually was welcoming to people and shaking their hands; albeit missing said hands as they are held out for her to take in the dark dim of the forge. Still, at some point, she'd find them, or they her, and then a nice shake would ensue.
Eventually, he would need to take her hand once more and guide her through the forge into the tower. She had never been this way and had always come through from the courtyard. Suddenly she could see again as the walls of stone reflected the light streaming into the tower from above.
Merrylyn and Constance were there and she greeted them with equal affection. Even the children, who had become close even to her enough to ask her a billion questions over the years, were shown affection as she entered the house.
Eventually, she would slip from Matthew's hand to disarm herself of her greatsword and then would sit with it leaning up against the chair behind her from the side. She's had some time to think about what he meant to her, and so at the question, she answers, even if it was his job to do so. Horace's words echoed in her mind. They finally saw each other.
"It's as you've said, I see him now." She then looks at Matthew and confesses to him directly, "As you know, my sight hasn't been the best over the years. I should have seen your affection for me and you've been more than patient with me. I've been a fool not to have seen it until now, but looking back, I can see the moments of your affection toward me and when you started to like me. I've held feelings for you for so long I journaled about them before I was even a teenager" she chuckles slightly and then continues. "My adoration for the mighty man you've become and how you strengthen me on my path is one of my most cherished things in life."
"See what I have been telling you," his mother would say when she could get a jab in. His father just grins, you see where he gets it. Mr. Smith is just happy they are happy.
He slightly chuckles and grips her hand, knowing he probably should have said something. As the girls in the family would always say, "Boys are stupid and oblivious." He surely was one of them, he thought. Then speaks on it, "Dont beat yourself so hard, I was oblivious. I didn't know how to show that I liked you, and wasn't brave enough too either. I was too scared to lose you as a friend."
He responds to your declaration, "I am overjoyed being your man."
Yes mother, though as I have been telling you, my training is nearly complete. Loarin and Nicolette have decided to take it to the next level. I need to pack my things and go with them."
Mr. Smith sees the resolve in both your faces and nods, "We are sure glad you have each other. Its good to have Loarin with you, that will put us at ease." His mother on the other hand bursts out with, "Stay at least tonight and we can put a little going away party for you. Just us, your brothers, and Nicolette's parents. We have to celebrate your relationship before you go. Please." Matthew's father shrugs and asks, "Just a few hours and then we can send you off with gifts in the morning, bright and early!? You can see he knows what you are feeling but also is supporting his wife.
Matthew speaks up this time, "No we need to leave today. Don't ask why, I will pack up and we can say our goodbyes in the courtyard."
A smile of pity spreads over her lips as she feels sad a moment for him in his suffering to tell her. The pitiful smile then creases to happiness as he confesses to being her man. She had never felt like this before and there was definitely a warm glow upon her face.
Nicolette tugs at her hair from one side to the other as Matthew explains their situation and that she was taking him away from his family. She would feel a twinge of worry inside if it were not for his parent's responses.
While they are offered many things, Matthew's response surprises her. In a way, it is cute how adamant he is for her own decision. "He seeks to fight for what I want. I never would have suspected such a good thing to have happened." Still, she doesn't want to be rude, and in a way, this unexpectedness probably should be revealed to her parents. In a way, it would heal their hearts more and take away their worry, which to her was the chiefest of importance; even over her journey.
She looks to him and nods, "We can discuss it. Do you mind giving us a few minutes alone to talk about it?"
If and when they would have gone to give them a moment, she will speak in a hushed tone. "I am okay staying one more day if you are. I must go, but to let our families spoil us and let my parents know about us...what do you think? Loarin can wait. Is there a reason you have to go right now other than to fulfill my desires?" The way that she says his name is sort of like how a student would speak about a teacher she has to tolerate.
They would have stumbled over each other to give you some space to talk.
"I was just supporting what you want. Since you are fine with it, we will spend the night. Yes, we should let them know too, don't you think they want you to find someone, even as oblivious as me. I am pretty sure Loarin is just going at your pace otherwise he would have hog tied you and left years ago. Just you my love." he says and slowly moves in for a kiss. Oh he speaks about Loarin about the same way, though respectable in front of him.
Then he announces, "One more day it is!" The hub bub grows even louder and he suggests, [b]"We can go tell your parents while they get ready. Also tell Loarin about the new plans.
As she thought, he was just looking out for her. A small chuckle comes from her at his joke and a bright, wide smile spreads over her face as she blushes again at his words. Her eyes close once more as she kisses him and she brings her hand up to his cheek.
She would agree and the two of them could speak to his parents, go inform Loarin of what all was happening, and she could return home to her parent's surprise; this time with Matthew in tow. In a way, their reaction would be different. Not negative, but healing. Matthew may not have known just how emotional it would be, for they lost all their children but two. One being Nicolette who was nearly blinded and worse, infected by something dark, they thought she'd never even find someone to like her, let alone care for her as Matthew would present, and their eldest son was not the most handsome of boys, unfortunately, having been given a horrible scar as a youth from an ax injury. To have such a good looking man like Matthew who obviously Nicolette adored actually like her, was a dream come true.
She would make plans with him and Loarin to leave early in the morning, but that night, they were going to party and have fun. Receive gifts and celebrate time with their loved ones together in an openness that neither of them had known before.
Nicolette had always wanted a nice suit of armor (), an upgrade to her grandfather's sword (), a nice outfit (), or some womanly products one would see in a larger city (). Nicolette would never ask for anything in her parting but those who knew her would know what she had desired in the past. Even simple gifts like apples from the children or things she could take with her on her journey would be preferred as well.
As for her love interest with Matthew, that night, when all would die down and she was a bit more properly drunk, she would steal him away to a nearby field with a blanket and would find a nice quiet place to settle down with him. There, she wanted to explore her feelings with him more openly and prolonged in passion. For her, it was an evening of exploring their past and moments shared that fueled their hidden desires for each other, but in their resistance, never confessed what they felt. Being fueled by passion, she would want to kiss and be with him intimately but did not want anything more.
This would be something he already knew about her. She had dreams of the purity of marriage and her wedding night. The difference being that when they had briefly spoken about it before, she had never thought she would fall in love, find someone, get married or have any of those things that suddenly seemed possible. Still, there was no lack of intimacy that evening, but in time, she would return home to her bed or the bed provided her by Matthew's family.
The party itself was set in front of the inn. They started with music, food, and dancing. The inn itself was set aside to hold the presents and staging area for all the food. Everyone in the village was welcome to celebrate, though the talk of a marriage was rife on the rumor mill, why else would they make such a big event of it?
After most of the food was gone and the sun was setting, the receiving line was formed. Nicolette and Matthew at the far end of the inn. Their parents at the next table over. Folks would come in grab their present, exchange a few words, give the gift, then go congratulate the parents.
They had many bags at the end of the night. Crops, supplies, and simple clothing were the most common gifts. Nicolette was given five pretty dresses, one of them with lace and frills, it came with matching gloves. Matthew was given a new artisan outfit, a new leather apron, and a fancy traveler's outfit. Nicolette was given a fancy traveler's outfit too. Gary Huntsman greeted you both with a strong smile, gave Matthew a big hug and asked, "Would you care to have a bow or hunting knife?" Nicolette was given two bottles of perfumes, a kit for hairstyling, a pair of opal earrings, three silver bracelets, and a string amulet with a shined rock knotted in. Also you were given 23 silver. Matthew's father presents Nicolette with a razor sharp greatsword as Nicolette's dad presents Matthew with a ring of protection.
He would graciously accept the bow from Gary and all the other gifts given to them. He would thank everyone for their generosity.
Later that night in the field. He kissed her back with abandon. His hands sliding up and down her legs, feeling her skin and tight body. He did his best to learn her curves by touch, and following her instructions of what to leave alone. Quickly to come back to the sensitive spots he was allowed to play with. He was one pent up boy by the end of it but he loved every second of it.
Making sure she got home, then went to sleep in his bed one last time.
The next morning he awoke as the sun began to rise. Out to train for an hour before he would bathe.
Festivals were fairly rare in their small home, but occasionally there would be a wedding or something worthy of celebrating. While most of the time she and Matthew, and a few other kids of the same age group would hang out and have some drinks and make fun of people dancing, she never really took to it herself. However, it was her night, and being a celebration for the two of them, she would dance and the two of them would be the fools out there having fun and goofing off. He would easily find that despite her reserved nature and inability to see well, she was a magnificent natural dancer. While not skilled in any regard in the art of dance, she was naturally dexterous and much more capable than the average person out there on the dance floor.
The talk of marriage was not unfounded, as she knew what it meant to bind herself to Matthew, even if it was not quite to that marriage stage yet. She honestly couldn't think of a reason why she wouldn't marry him except that it was all so new to her. She had known him so long as a friend that knowing him as a suitor worthy of marriage was a bit much all in a short time. Yet she had no desires for any other man. She would not deny the questions or shut them up but rather would thank people for their blessings and answer their inquiries with an optimistic answer rather than a realistic or pessimistic outlook.
They were given gifts. To each she would hold them up to observe their quality and craftsmanship--being thankful regardless, but for her, such details were hard to distinguish without staring hard and long at them. Each one she focused in on, which as she had drunk a bit it was even harder to gauge, but in the end, she would thank the givers of them.
At the magnificent gift of Matthew's father, she would clearly treasure it and equip it in place of her own grandfather's sword. It wasn't that she wouldn't his sword with her, but she would be clear that this one would be the one she would use. Her grandfather's older blade would be a handy backup in case something happened to this new one.
As the evening wrapped up to a close, the two headed off into an evening of much-needed enjoyment of each other and when she eventually faded away back home, she would amble into bed. The next morning, she would rise and put on her new traveler's outfit, she would ready her horse, and go to find Matthew to gather Loarin.
As she rides up, toward the Smith's the sun begins to sit a bit higher in the sky from sunrise and she arrives at the window of his room rather than the front door. She begins to lightly knock on the shutter, hoping to catch his attention and give him a gentle wake up call if he already was not awake.
He had bathed and began sorting his gear. At the knock on his shutter he slowly opened it and with the pleasant surprise opened it fully. He was still in his towel. He offered her a hand to come through the window. His other hand holding the towel in position. With her in his room he brought both hands to her cheeks to hold her face lightly and give a few pecks. You could also feel him rise from below the towel. He would not stop giving you attention until you tell him to stop or you leave.