Meg laughs at herself for asking the young elf such an odd question. It felt good to actually say it out loud, though. "No, I should not expect you to know. Who does, after all." She watches him strum his lute listens to his suggestion. She laughs again, this time even deeper and harder, perhaps even getting the attention of others around. "I suppose I am in a good place, Seamus, as I appear to have eliminated everything in my life." The more bitter she is, the sweeter her voice turns, and her voice has become rich honey. Nevertheless, she appears genuinely pleased by the suggestion. Even if it was not the answer she is looking for, it was the one she needed right now. She may be starting over, but starting over is sometimes the best way to figure out what you need to do.
The more she thinks on it, the more she warms to the idea of doing a bit of work for once in her life. She could certiainly take a few goblins, especially with the tricks she has been blessed with. Oh yes, she could get stronger. He never thought Valena worth anything but a pretty face and a good name. But she is not Valena now, is she? She had always admired that about Meg--the real one--how she knew what she wanted and fought for it. Now that she is Meg, maybe she can do that, too. Corioles will do everything in his power to make sure she does not live. It is time she returned the favor.
"Why, yes, Seamus. I think I am quite warming to the idea of a little adventure. I could use a bit of practice with my rapier. I think I would very much enjoy that."
She then continues, "Well, the way you and the lutey cutey were talking about our excursion," she begins, pleased that she came up with a nickname for Seamus that doesn't sound like a bad pun, "we'll be tripping all over each other. Revising that a bit, you and I alone cover he scholarly mindset, arcane power, and I have healing magics. My bodyguard over there," gesturing to Rastaf, "can be muscle and provide more healing, and if our lutist friend can be counted on for trapfinding, I'd say we're one frontline tough away from solid, wouldn't you?" and she waits to see if he falls right in line with her logic .
'She's laughing, is that good or bad?' Slightly confused, 'Good, she didn't really expect me to have the answer.' He strums lightly starting into a Varisian ballad, 'In a good place? Eliminated everything? What about Sappho? She almost sounds ...happy?' Playing the ballad in the odd method of the Varisians, plucking two strings both the melody and harmony at the same time; he walks beside the wagon watching Meg think.
'She wants to practice?' Raising an eyebrow when she announces she wants to practice, he miss plucks the melody and completely misses the harmony string. Looking at her as he stops playing. "Here now? Should we wait until we stop for the evening? Or do you want to follow along behind?"
Meg rests the side of her face against her palm and shakes her head. ”Seamus, darling, I was having a moment. And when I am having a moment, I just have to say something dramatic. That is simply how it works. Of course I do not mean practice right now. I mean it in a more general and sense. A euphemism.” She always remembers that word, euphemism. Her daughter Euphemia is—was—named as such because of it. She had wanted to give the girls names based on their personalities, words that actually represented who they are as people. Euphemia was always babbling, and she did so with such comfort and consistency that it was as though she was having these one-sided animated conversations with absolutely everyone. Hence, “good word.”
She flicks a finger at the pommel of her sheathed rapier. ”I cannot be too harsh, as I was just having a mental deliberation that you were not party to—except as unknowing instigator—so I cannot expect you to understand. As for the subject of my deliberation, how about we forget about that and instead talk of something else.” She claps her hands once decisively. ”Ah! The festival. What can we expect from it, do you think? Is there any place to get free alcohol?”
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
'Having a moment,? That's good, I saw how quick she was with the apple, I don't know that I want to spar with her and I'd rather not spar in front of a bunch of people.... a euphemism?' He begins playing the Varisian ballad again. 'Unknown instigator, I don't know that I've been called that before, forget about that? curious, but ok. Raising an eyebrow as she claps, 'the festival, free alcohol? Why am I not surprised.'
Shifting to and easier cord progression, Seamus smiles, "Consider the previous deliberation forgotten." He nods towards her rapier, "But from what I've seen with the apples, your probably not as out of practice as you think. What Do they teach? Stick the pointy end in people?"
He pauses for a moment. "Well, the Swallowtail festival is when the priests of Desna release a wagon load of butterflies and people stand around hoping they will land on them." He rolls his eyes and continues. "Then they do the normal feast thing, you know; food, alcohol, music, old men telling stories."
Changing the cord progression slightly, "I'm sure a friendly face can wander from group to group joining them in their celebration."
He changes from the cord progression back to the varisian ballad. "This year will be different since their dedicating the new cathedral, so I'm not exactly sure what else will happen."
[ooc]Ok, this will be my last post for the evening, I will catch up in the morning :)
|
I'm handy with a blade. I was a weapons instructor at my seminary. Most clerics of the Dawnflower learn the scimitar as a matter of course. Some go for a heavier form of it. I can teach that, too, he says, tapping the hilt of his huge falchion.
I prefer healing to harming, but I'm ready for either, and yes, a skilled warrior is always an asset to any who would diverge from the safest paths.
He finds himself with nothing else to say, and continues on, still content.
Rastaf
He looked away from the cart as the truly devoted Half-Orc spoke of how he had learned the way of the Scimitar, as a good follower of Sarenrae would. He could never touch one again, ever. Not ever.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Thank you everyone that helped smoothly hide my absence, but I'm back and ready to write some wrongs! Let the shenanigans ensue!
@GM Euan: I've added a little bit to her personality to reflect some things that are going to be coming out due to some realizations I had today.
I saw Magnus' post and I figure that any Sandpointer would know this, but Ameiko is about 18-19 at the start of Rise of the Runelords. I'd go over the math, but there might be some spoilers involved. Suffice it to say, that yes, I have figured that out from when I've tried to run this AP.
Admittedly, the art does make her look older, but I think part of that can be chalked to artistic license.
Anywho, that's what the canon is, whether that's true in this game is up to the GM.
I had a bit of an epiphany while my power was out and realized that Tot's a mash-up of Thistle (Girl in the hood on this page) from the webcomic Daughter of the Lilies and Violet Evergarden from the anime of the same name. It wasn't intentional, but I think I'm going to lean hard into that. It'll help sort out some things with Tot, but it's probably not going to jive with what I've written before as well as I would like.
Good thing this isn't canon and is for getting to know our characters. :D
Tot keeps sneaking glances at Vindur when he isn't looking as if she might be able to divine his true motives.
Why would he help someone as pathetic as you, a mewling deserter not even fit to be carrion?
What does he really want? It can't be to help you.
Why didn't you tell him no? He'll find out the truth soon enough. Where will you be then?
Then comes Meg's whispered message. Faint, maddening whispers, barely heard if at all, echo in the woman's ears as Tot replies.
Too dumb to learn spells, too stupid to take orders, How typical.
You'll just mess it up anyway.
Why respond? Who'd want to stoop to helping you?
She lets herself get dragged along by the poet, trying to not make a scene as she finds the desire to flee growing greater and greater with each passing moment. She looks around, hoping for some escape. There are too many eyes on her; too many people seeing her, noticing her. Anonymity is her shield.
Her teeth begin to grind as she tries not to panic. How is she supposed to handle this? They didn't tell her what to do. What is she supposed to do? What should she do? It wasn't like this in Magnimar. There she was one of thousands, nothing special, a stoic sellsword that has a few useful skills.
Her eyes shift to the treeline. She can come up with something plausible. She can pretend she needs to relieve herself. That would give her time to regain her composure and for them to forget.
They won't forget.
If she can just lie.
You couldn't tell a lie to save your life! What makes you think this will work, you stupid girl?!
All she has to do is pass it off. They'll respect her privacy in such a matter, right?
More likely to just make them more curious.
With her eyes on the trees instead of her feet, the toe of her boot gets caught and she trips into one of the others, almost taking them both to the ground.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Meg hears Tot's response and smiles faintly to herself.
"You are a resourceful young woman. I am certain you will figure out something."
Meg taps her rapier again. "Oh, heavens no. I have never actually stabbed anyone. Not with a sharp one, anyways. There is actually all this business with parries having numbers. I remember how they go, but not the numbers." She mimes moving her arm to various positions to each of her sides and above her head. "There was a lot of footwork, too. She--the instructor--would always say, '9/10ths of fencing is footwork, and 9/10ths of footwork is form.' So we spent a great deal of time making sure we were making the right angles with our legs when we lunged. Sappho loved all that nonsense."
She then listens intently while Seamus describes the festival in detail. It all sounded perfectly splendid, to be entirely honest. All this butterfly business. The girls would probably love--
None of that now.
She smiles. She is quite good at smiling, even--or perhaps especially--when she is not actually happy. "That sounds lovely. I think fluttering from table to table sounds especially ideal." She pulls out her coin and starts flipping it between the backs of her fingers again. But her armor restricts her arm just enough that she loses the rhythm and drops the coin into the cart. "I imagine you will be tagging along. Just in case someone drops something." She snatches up the coin. "Everything all mixed up, all those new people. It is probably very easy to lose something." It disappears from her hands as if into the air. "Someone has to find it." And she reaches for Seamus's ear, the coin popping back into her hand. She sits back and waits for his reaction. Sapphira and her were unstoppable at these games. It was how they got through all those endless functions growing up together. She still just sees the romance and fun of it, never actually having to rely on legerdemain and cons to survive.
Qetsiyah grins so wide it nearly transforms her face and she claps the slender half-elf on the same shoulder she just thumped. Someone knows me! her heart rejoiced. The Inn did not really feel like home to her, but leaving her family had still been hard. Most of the folk on the caravan had been nice enough, but they were all strangers. This was something different and she almost sighed with relief from an anxiety she'd hardly realized had been growing in her breast. It was like turning that last bend toward home. "Yes! They are all well. They've opened an Inn near the theatre district in Magnimar. Now you can see the Flying Suncatchers perform every night in the common room of The Suncatcher Inn. They even raised the ceiling and installed a full trapeze!" She was proud of her halfling family and all they had achieved in the last year.
It was only when he apologized that she realized he must mean her human mother, Simza, had performed with his father. ”Oh… gosh, I would sure like to hear that story someday.” She treasured every bit of her mother she could glean from the people who knew her. Sasha had been her best friend and she’d told her every story she knew. Or at least every story she’d deemed appropriate to tell her impressionable young human daughter who she struggled to understand. But Kizzy was desperate to hear from someone who would not censor their recollections. She wore the scarlet scarf her mother danced with in her hair, so she knew there was more to the stories she’d been told. For one thing, Sasha either had no idea or would not share the identity of her natural father. She would only speak well of her deceased friend. But the picture she painted was of a saint, perfect in every way. And saints did not give birth to nameless bastards. In some ways, that realization was the only comfort she had that she was not as beautiful or talented as her famed mother. Still, Sasha had always cradled Qetsiyah's face in her small hands and gushed how very like Simza she was, which made her happy somehow, even if she suspected it wasn't really true.
She drifted for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Letting the banter that piped all around wash over her like the autumn rain. Keeping up her steady trudging so as not to fall behind.
Before long, something they said penetrated her thoughtful daze. ’The heart wants what it wants.”
”I think I know.” she said softly. ”The heart yearns beyond reason… beyond logic. Even knowing what we want does us no good, we cannot turn from it. Cannot cease yearning, no matter the price, no matter the obstacles.” She smiled, sadly. ”I think that’s what it means. And when your heart wants the impossible, then it is well and truly lost.” She thought that every orphan must know the meaning of that phrase.
Having let herself wander down a darker path than usual, she was glad to talk of something brighter, even if it was exploring treacherous ruins and the Sandpoint Devil. ”I can stand on the front lines. I can even help keep the heat off you and put it on me where it belongs.” She rapped on her scale mail to illustrate her point. ”If I can find a sparring partner later, I’ll show you what I mean.”
She had told the story of the Sandpoint Devil too many times to hesitate now. ”All right then, but you listen well… all of you!” She said raising her voice to be heard all the way to the carriage and back. ”You don’t want to go off wandering in the wilds around Sandpoint because there’s a monster in them thar hills.” She said in her best campfire tales voice, complete with spooky gestures, fit to scare a younger sibling at the very least. ”Nobody knows for sure what it looks like, because no one has seen it up close and lived to tell the tale. But some folks have seen it in the distance, slinking away around a bend, ducking beneath a hilltop. And they never describe the same sort of creature twice. Some said it looked like a horse. And others like a great crocodile! Some even said it was like a giant bat with wings as wide as a house and wicked sharp fangs. Many have gone out to hunt it… and never returned! But it’s still out there, make no mistake.” She cautioned them one last time in her spooky voice. ”Or that’s the legend, anyway.”
She was in good spirits after regaling the group with her favorite bedtime story for naughty little brothers and sisters. Until she heard a familiar name being said a lot up ahead. She hustled a bit to catch up to the carriage and then resumed her patented scowl at what she heard. ”Here now! You be sure to keep a civil tongue in your mouth about the Lady Ameiko… uh, sir.” She said, faltering somewhat because she had not caught his name. Also her irritation was warring with her innate sense of respect for her elders ingrained by her raising. She narrowed her dark, hooded eyes, trying to judge how stern she should be with the old fellow. He might just be senile and the things he was saying were not precisely disrespectful… but too familiar all the same. ”She’s nobility. You can’t just say whatever you please about her.” She grumped, still scowling up at the old timer.
Kizzy was naturally protective and Ameiko was a good friend. And she felt quite certain the old coot was either looney or lying about his own association with her. Either way, it did not seem right to her.
The cavalier must remain loyal to his allies and must always work to further the aims of the group. He must protect his allies from harm and defend their honor when called into doubt.
I'm going to drop out of those recruitment. The campaign is very tempting and I am very interested, but I am not able to find a voice for my character right now. Good luck to all who have submitted characters.
The Suncatcher Inn ...I need to remember that and take mother.' Seamus nods and starts to strum a halfling jig. 'Hear that story...not much to tell, I learned more about my father from Faunra than I did my mother.' He stops playing for a moment. "Sadly, there's not much to tell. Mom just pointed it out, as if remembering it herself." He shrugs as an apology, "She doesn't talk about my dad and their life together. They were an item for a couple of years, one of the ladies told me they were exclusive. Which in that world means a lot. So I think she thought he would take her with him when he left." Placing his hands back ond the lute, "Who knows, maybe she would talk to you about it." He begins gently strumming chords, "She lives in the Marches in Magnimar, you could visit her the next time you go see your family." He smiles, "If you let me know when your going I'd go with you. That might help, but, I don't know."
A scarlet scarf.' Seamus watches as she drifts away, Odd that pink is the color of love but red is lust.' Realizing he was watching the woman walk away, he quickly reminds himself. 'and long life and inner strength too.' He turns not wanting to look like he was staring. 'I wonder if it was her mothers, doesn't matter, it looks good on her too.'
'Parries having numbers?' Unintentionally, Seamus, stops playing the lute, listening carefully. 'Lot's of foot work, so similar to knife fighting.' Watching intently as she moves her arm. 'Proper angles for lunging maybe she may ...Ahhhh I wonder if Sappho was her instructor.'
Returning her smile with one of his own, he rolls his eyes 'Fluttering" like a butterfly, I wonder if the pun is intended.' He watches as she knuckle juggles the coin. 'In case someone drops ....ah she assumes I'll be cutting purses...well maybe. I'll keep my eyes open for a fat purse, but it would need to be worth the risk.' He smiles as she pulls the coin from his ear. "Neat trick! I always kept my fingers nimble playing the lute"
He begins to strum a Shoanti lullaby beating the drum part on the face of the lute between cords. "That wasn't my original reason for learning to play. I wanted to know more about my father's heritage, One of the um...Ladies ...at the house was elvish, she taught me the language and offered to teach me the 'elvish lute' as well." He smiles again looking more the young man he should be. "The music became my way of dealing with the world."
He pauses for a moment, gently drumming the lullaby, "As for the festival I plan on finding the biggest group with the largest barrel of ale, sitting down near someplace they can dance, tossing my wide brimmed hat on the ground and taking requests." He gives a chuckle, "Not only do people dance better when their drunk, but they tip better as well."
Remembering the earlier conversation, "So the rapier, the parries have numbers, and footwork is important? So is it like dance steps, where you repeat some of them." He rolls his eyes at his question, "I mean I know a duel isn't choreographed, but are there numbers that flow into numbers?" His face turns a little flush, "I was just wonder, I've only held a rapier a few times. My step dad taught me how to use a knife," picking the chords back up on the lullaby, with his hands on the lute, he shrugs with his shoulder. "I figure the short sword is just a long knife and it's less conspicuous than a rapier or one of those Aldori dueling swords."
Stopping playing, he looks around for the 'swashbuckler with the feather in his hat. "You know, I think Toblacane, was, of all things, carrying a mace." He smiles and continues strumming chords on the lute. ”I had planned to return from Magnimar in time for the festival, but I had no real plans beyond that.” He smiles, ”Now it seems that I may take up ‘tour guides”
Pausing, he looks towards the sky, ”It’s getting late, They’ve picked up the pace of the wagons, Should we go ask someone if were going to make it to he inn before dusk?”
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
I have an incredibly busy weekend planned, so Tiasar will drift into the background for the time being. I am still available for any direction questions.
Go to her! Extend the hand! Be her help so she can help on our quest! Quack! comes the whispered duck scream.
Again ignoring it, Vin continues his conversation, though splitting his attention between his fellows and Tot, by saying to Rosella, "So, have you personally ever fought a giant?" This could make a good poem if she has, he thinks to himself. And as he's beginning that conversation, he hears another one of the members of the caravan loudly confronting Magnus on speaking about Ameiko. Nobility? That's interesting. Maybe our elderly friend's beloved would like to become a patron for an artist?
And even as this conversation was happening, a little blonde gal ran into Rastaf. The Half-Orc, gentle soul that he is, immediately turns his attention to checking on her and offering to help her up. Generous to a fault, that one, Gheri observes. I could so use that to my advantage.
She then turns her attention back to Qetsiyah as she shares the tale of the Sandpoint Devil. When the tale is finished, Gheri claps, though she does this without relinquishing Tiasar's arm.
She's about to ask some more about Qetsiyah's training in combat when the other gal turns her attention to the elderly gentleman on the wagon and starts berating him for speaking ill of...Amira? Something like that. Gheri did not quite catch the name. "Well, looks like not every old timer is a gentleman like you, Tiasar," she says, giving the Elf another smile and one more jab about his age comment. She finds the Elf too serious, somewhat stuffy, and actually rather pleasant company. Keeping an eye on the actions around her and an ear out for what the apparently noblewoman's name was (which led to Kizzy's tirade), Gheri continues walking with her escort.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
- - -
Seamus, no worries. You’ve said nothing you might not already know as a citizen of Sandpoint I think.
Izomandakus, welcome Balacertar!
Adam, welcome back. Sorry it was a special tree that was destroyed, but glad it wasn’t any worse.
Kayri_Khaos, farewell! Maybe next time.
Hasslo Holt
Seamus Passeri (post)
Kronk the Cook
Tiasar Soseshtian
Qetsiyah Kizzy (post)
Rastaf of Sarenrae
Gherix Vainglory (post)
Margareta ‘Meg’ Alekto
Verona of the Wilds
Toblacane Alemardo
Vindur Minhu (post)
Nalar Chatian
Marku Serbanescu
Titania Olivia Thrune
Magnus the Magnificent
Grimmald Moonwatcher
Chaetris Admeroi
Emerik Albaras
Rosella Marcu
Izomandakus
If you are not on this list and feel you should be, or there is some other error, please let me know and I’ll correct it. Thanks!
- - -
She was weary from all the walking, and longed to reach their destination. But she reminded herself that she'd done plenty of walking in her life; a little more wasn't going to kill her. She made a silent prayer to Iomedae to boost her resolve, even though it felt silly to make such a trivial request.
|
”Here now! You be sure to keep a civil tongue in your mouth about the Lady Ameiko… uh, sir.” She said, faltering somewhat because she had not caught his name. Also her irritation was warring with her innate sense of respect for her elders ingrained by her raising. She narrowed her dark, hooded eyes, trying to judge how stern she should be with the old fellow. He might just be senile and the things he was saying were not precisely disrespectful… but too familiar all the same. ”She’s nobility. You can’t just say whatever you please about her.” She grumped, still scowling up at the old timer.
Magnus considers this newcomer that mentions knowing Ameiko, as well.
He squints to get a better look and adjusts his spectacles. "You know Ameiko, do you? Then you will know that nothing I said about her was disrespectful, but flattering in the extreme."
He sighs. "I suppose you will also know that I have a massive, poorly-concealed crush on her that is--well, let's just say it is unreciprocated. At this point in time. I am Magnus, by the way."
He eyes the woman's armor and arms. "And you are? I don't recall seeing you in Sandpoint, and I usually try to involve myself in everyone's business, whether invited or not. However, I have been absent for a hundred years or so and just recently returned, so if I have yet to have met you, that is understandable. Tell me of yourself and how you know the lovely Ameiko."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
@GM Euan: Yeah, Like I've said in another thread, though, we knew it was coming sooner rather than later. It's still a bummer though. At least it wasn't like the tree that totaled my first car. That one didn't hold any significance other than what it did to the corner of the porch and my car when it fell. That one got turned into firewood.
@Magnus: Ameiko's father is one of Sandpoint's nobles. I think that's what Kizzy's referring to.
Resourceful? You? HA! You could barely handle simple orders, when you weren't disobeying them.
Tot nods slightly, showing that she understands.
Wait until she learns what you really are and what you've done. Will she be so quick to offer her help then?
You've done it now, idiot girl.
Tot grabs hold of Rastaf's hand to steady herself as she stumbles another step or two. She looks up and her face begins to flush with embarrassment again. She is unharmed, nothing more than her pride bruised by her misstep. After a moment, she looks away.
"I-I'm fine,"she mumbles in a voice almost too quiet to be heard. She trembles slightly, like she's holding back a spring and can barely do it.
Run away, like you always do. It's the only thing your good at.
She looks at her feet, careful to avoid any ruts as the pace picks up. The sight of an inn ahead and the faint smell of wood smoke on the cool, autumnal breeze only made the nearness of their destination for the night all the more apparent. After a few more yards of silence, she looks up at him.
"A-are you not angry at me," she asks Rastaf, confused by his kindness after she had tripped into him. Everyone she had ever known would have berated her, or worse, for such a blunder.
'So here we are on the Lost coast road, I don't know if these redwoods are the edge of the Mosswood, or in it proper. I guess it wouldn't make any difference to any goblins that would attack.' Looking west, unable to see the sunset due to the trees, he can tell by the long shadows that it's almost dusk. Seamus shifts his lute back to his shoulder and turns to Meg. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go ask Nick how much further."
Stepping away from the wagon Seamus turns and quickly makes his way to where Nick is bringing up the rear, 'So now what? Do I volunteer to help? And do what? I probably see better at dusk than he does, that's something. So how does that conversation go, "Hey Nick I can see better than you, give me your bow.' Shaking his head at himself, he tucks his hands in his pockets. 'I don't want to surprise the horse, it would be an easy way to get bit.'
Moving to the side of the road, so the horse can clearly see him, But far enough away that it can't nip at him. Looking up to Nick he tips his hat politely, then crosses his arms. "Nick, um just out of curiosity, How much longer to the Inn?" He uncrosses them, as he starts to walk beside the horse, then tucks them back in his pockets.
|
|
Rastaf notices that the young woman seems a little tense and preoccupied. He almost asks her what's bothering her, but thinks better of it. He doesn't know her, and doesn't want to make her uncomfortable by appearing nosy. She's probably just tired from all this walking. A little food and rest at the inn, and she'll be good to go.
The inn's not far. I'm looking forward to a hot meal and a comfy bed, maybe an ale or two or three or four. Or five... We'll be in Sandpoint before you know it!
He gives her a toothy smile and trudges on, keeping up with the wagon.
Hasslo hangs back from the main group and drinks some of his tea.
"Ahhh, that's refreshing stuff. It'll be good to rest these feet for the night.". Hasslo mutters.
Hasslo will try to talk with some of the other quieter travelers ().
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Tot keeps up with Rastaf, despite her shorter stature. The smile quiets her fears and she relaxes a little. Not having so many eyes on her helps as well.
"A hot meal and warm bed do sound good, though I'll be happy if it's not raining again," she says, managing a small smile. "I'm Tot, by the way. May I have your name," she asks after another few steps.
Meg was just about to speak when Seamus headed off to check with Nick. "I will be right after you." She pauses as Kizzy interjects with her own answer to the question plaguing Meg.
Before long, something they said penetrated her thoughtful daze. ’The heart wants what it wants.”
”I think I know.” she said softly. ”The heart yearns beyond reason… beyond logic. Even knowing what we want does us no good, we cannot turn from it. Cannot cease yearning, no matter the price, no matter the obstacles.” She smiled, sadly. ”I think that’s what it means. And when your heart wants the impossible, then it is well and truly lost.” She thought that every orphan must know the meaning of that phrase.
"Okay...I suppose. But what if your heart wants more than one thing and they are in conflict? Which one do I pick? Or do I even have to pick?" She shrugs her mouth and glances away. "My apologies. I do not want to sound dismissive. I suppose it just feels all so much more complicated than that." She pauses to estimate Kizzy's relative age to her. Her skin is too nice to be anything but in her early twenties. Some people might find her masculine demeanor and look off-putting, but Meg finds it charming. Sapphira had in recent years taken to a more dapper aesthetic herself, and Meg cannot help but be reminded of her. The comparison makes it even clearer to Meg that Kizzy must be younger, probably having spent her adult life on the road or at work fighting the good fight. Meg always hates those women that turn patronizing the moment they have their first child, as though there is some Divine Secret Knowledge you get from doing something incredibly common and banal, but she can at least agree that it offers unique perspective you would not find elsewhere. "You hit a certain point in your life and everything just becomes...heavier." Her escape from her former life made her pick up as many--if not more--weights as she lost. Every moment might be the one that she gets found out and dragged back to Magnimar and Corioles' perfect frame-up. It is all just so much. The dulling of alcohol is all that keeps her from breaking down at a moment's notice.
Glancing over he saw a well-set Drawf heading the down the line, chatting. His gear suggested he was a nasty up-close fighter if he knew what he was doing with it, and Emerik saw noting to suggest that he didn't.
Nodding cheerfully to the other man, Emerik said, "Evening. Looking forward to some soft beds and warm food?"
Hasslo watches a man approach him and cheerfully ask him some questions. "Howdy there mister. Warm food - yes. Soft bed, not so much." The dwarf holds out a tea cup and shrugs, offering tea to the man. "The outdoors call my name. I can hear the wind say 'Hasslo, come out and play'.". He laughs. "Not literally. I've spent many nights out in the woods near Magnimar. Not the most pleasant of places but it felt at home. Unlike Magnimar - the city made my skin crawl."
The dwarf realizes he never got his name. "I'm Hasslo. Hasslo Holt. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. What's bringing you to Sandpoint?"
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Here's Gheri!
| 7 people marked this as a favorite. |
|
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
He snickers at his little rhyme, puts out his huge mitt, and offers Tot a handshake.
I've never been to Sandpoint, but I hear the festival is something to see. I'll be there for the dedication of the new cathedral, too. Gotta represent! The closer we get, the more excited I am. I really think it'll be a blast!
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Considering, he added after a moment, "I can certainly see the joy in sleeping beneath the night's sky, but I think I crave a soft mattress and a hot bath. It's been a little too long since I've had either, or at least cooking that isn't my own."
Taking a sip of the tea and letting the caffeine flow into him, he added, "Are you traveling to the Festival as well? It seems to be a common theme among a lot of the travellers here."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
She is the great warrior! You must go to her! Quack!! came the emphatic whisper scream of the duck voice again.
Hearing Rosella's response to his inquiry, the poet smiles and says, "Well, if a giant does appear, I'd definitely feel more confident having you by my side."
Off in the distance, he's fairly certain he can catch a glimpse of the inn where they'll be stopping. "I think we're fast approaching the inn. I certainly won't complain about a nice, comfy bed and a warm meal. Might even perform a poem if the opportunity presents itself." He looks over where Tot is reigning in her terror enough to look content and he says, "I'd be happy to share a table with you when weget to the inn," then looking up at the older gentleman, he adds, "and of course I'd also delight in the company of the most entertaining member of the party, Master Magnus." He then turns his eyes to the gal who came up raising her voice at Magnus, but now seems, perhaps, a bit calmed down, and adds, "[b]You're welcome to join us too now that we're all friends, ma'am,[/n]" and gives her a big smile.
Maybe Tot will join us too, he thinks, again, not certain why his thoughts keep turning to the slight girl.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Hasslo hands over a teacup to Emerik. "A builder, I see. Houses?" the dwarf questions. "I'd love to see some of you work."
"I didn't realize there was a festival until about a day or two ago. You see..." Hasslo doesn't want to get into the story of his parent's death again so will avoid that conversation until another time.
The dwarf contemplates for only a moment. "You see... adventure I guess. I have nothing left for me in Magnimar. Was planning on heading up the coast for a bit. Then veer off. Perhaps go to Kaer Maga next or Absalom. Maybe find my way to Tien Xia. Sell my services as a guide. Learn what there is to learn about nature and this world."
He bangs a fist against his dwarven shield. "I also want to get in touch with my dwarven heritage. I may have some distant cousins in the Mindspin Mountains."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
@GM and other players: I added some inspiration images for Kronk and his mother on the profile! I loved that people are adding some art and wanted to put some to, but I don't have the talent... So I put my overall inspirations there :)
Nodding, Emerik patted his hammer. "And yes, wood work in general but houses most of the time. Barns and the like too. If it's wood I can probably make it, at this point. I've had a little while to learn." He thought for a moment. "Some of the ones I helped with are likely still standing in Sandpoint. I don't think there's been any big storms or fires while I've been gone, so you'll probably see one or two."
Looking at the shield, he added, "It sounds like you'll have quite an adventure after the festival. I can't imagine the Festival itself with have much exciting, but it'll be a good way to relax before you set off. And at leas you're well equipped for it."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Aw, how precious? How long until he realizes what you are?
Tot tentatively reaches out and shakes Rastaf's hand. She'd heard about the festival from others in the caravan, but this was the first she'd heard about a new cathedral. She'd been to the dedication of an Asmodean temple before and...
"T-there's not g-going to be s-s-sacrifices, are there," she asks nervously.
You're giving too much away!
What must he think with you asking questions like that?
You should have kept your mouth shut!
"I-I-I mean, th-th-there's some gods that demand such."
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
"I just... I d-don't handle b-blood well."
Liar.
Killer.
Monster.
"I f-f-figured... I didn't w-want to make a fool of myself."
Too late for that.
Far too late!
Should have kept to yourself. Should have just kept your mouth shut!
Tot's voice trails off as her gaze falls to the toes of her boots once again.
You talk too much, reveal too much.
Too stupid to know better. Too stupid to learn.
Why can't you just learn your place? Would have been better off if you never opened you mouth! Weapons aren't supposed to talk.
"Hello, pretty," Gheri says, walking up to Tot with her arm still linked through the Elf's so he's being dragged along as her escort. "I'm Gherix, but you're welcome to call me Gheri. This old stick in the mud is Tiasar," she says, placing her free hand on his arm, and then adding, "Don't worry, he's not as grumpy as he looks," and giving the Elf a playful wink. "And I see you've already met my devoted bodyguard Rasi," she says with a smile. "Did I hear correctly that you're called Tot? How cute is that?" And then she gestures to their armored friend and adds, "Oh, and that's Kizzy right over there."
|
|
In fact, it would well explain why she looks so strong, but acts so timid and frightened. She's riding with some very scary ghosts, whatever they are. Curious as he is, he again elects to not prod her about it. If she chooses to talk about it, it has to be her choice, and this isn't the time or place.
It reminds him of his own recent past; surrounded by people who were up to no good, and seeing no way out. He once thought that everyone was bad, and just pretended they weren't, masking their selfishness with all manner of excuses.
Oh no, Tot. The cathedral is being consecrated to six different gods; Desna, Abadar, Shelyn, Gozreh, and Erastil, along with my personal god, Sarenrae. I can assure you, it will be a happy, peaceful occasion, no blood required. Just people of many faiths, coming together as one, celebrating what's good in life.
Seeing that her ghosts are haunting her even as they speak, he tries to reassure her.
You can come with me if you like, and see for yourself. It might make you feel better.
Seeing Gheri and the others approaching, he stops talking.
Hi, Gheri!
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Nick, um just out of curiosity, How much longer to the Inn?”
Nick leans back in his saddle a little and stretches, looking to the terrain a moment to orient himself. ”Well, we had a little delay, but not too bad. We’ll make the next inn by sunset, like a little before. So a couple hours yet maybe. Less probably.”
- - -Gherix, nice art!
Kronk, thanks for the heads up… nice.
Hasslo Holt
Seamus Passeri (post)
Kronk the Cook
Tiasar Soseshtian
Qetsiyah Kizzy (post)
Rastaf of Sarenrae
Gherix Vainglory (post)
Margareta ‘Meg’ Alekto
Verona of the Wilds
Toblacane Alemardo
Vindur Minhu (post)
Marku Serbanescu
Titania Olivia Thrune
Magnus the Magnificent
Grimmald Moonwatcher
Chaetris Admeroi
Emerik Albaras
Rosella Marcu
Izomandakus
If you are not on this list and feel you should be, or there is some other error, please let me know and I’ll correct it. Thanks!
- - -
"Okay...I suppose. But what if your heart wants more than one thing and they are in conflict? Which one do I pick? Or do I even have to pick?" She shrugs her mouth and glances away. "My apologies. I do not want to sound dismissive. I suppose it just feels all so much more complicated than that." She pauses to estimate Kizzy's relative age to her. Her skin is too nice to be anything but in her early twenties…
"You hit a certain point in your life and everything just becomes...heavier."
Kizzy frowned thoughtfully, it was not often she contemplated such complex topics as philosophy, but her mind was not so crowded with combat tactics and strategy that she could not apply herself to some of the greater mysteries of life.
”Well… in that case you have to imagine how you will feel when you have those things that your heart wants. Both of them and then just one, and then just the other. So like, I’ve offered you some of my ma’s excellent brandied cherries over honeycake. But maybe when we reach the inn, you’ll find out your favorite dessert is being served. But you can’t have both or you’ll end up with a tummy ache. So you have to think about which one you’ll regret missing out on more.” Abruptly she grins. ”Because I’m not likely to have any left to share tomorrow.”Meg can see that she has likely estimated correctly on Kizzy’s age. Her skin has seen it’s share of weathering from much travel, though her sun-darkened complexion seems lighter than it should, as if she has spent more time indoors recently that is usual. Her halfling-like exuberance often makes her seem even younger than she is.
Still, she has known pain in her life, if not true horror and hardship. And she recognizes it in the pretty woman’s face now. Her grin shifts to a more sympathetic smile and she puts a comforting hand on Meg's shoulder as they walk along. ”Sometimes you just need to take your mind off the problem for a while. Your heart will keep on puzzling it out and one day, you’ll wake up and it will all be clear. When your heart knows what it wants, it won’t be silent. Hearts can be annoying like that.” She says with a wink and pats her shoulder in support.
________________________
Magnus considers this newcomer that mentions knowing Ameiko, as well.
He squints to get a better look and adjusts his spectacles. "You know Ameiko, do you? Then you will know that nothing I said about her was disrespectful, but flattering in the extreme."
Kizzy frowned, still glaring up at the man. The clarity of his eye and his argument decided her, he wasn’t senile. ”I’m sure you mean to be complimentary. But I don’t care for your tone. For one thing, she’s younger than you think. And she is neither ‘flawed’, nor ‘accessible’. Honor is very important to her family and I do not think Lord Kaijitsu would appreciate you speaking of his daughter like you mean to dandle her on your knee.” Truth be told, Ameiko did not hold with her father’s ideas of propriety and was unfailingly kind, just as the old man had described. She had begun to think she might have overreacted. She huffed a sigh and tried to smooth her expression, but scowling came so naturally she still seemed displeased.
”My name is Qetsiyah. I’ve never lived in Sandpoint, but my family visited often when our caravan passed through. Ameiko has been my friend since we were kids. Which was not so very long ago.” She said, extending her finger and shaking it in a scolding gesture again.
She nodded at the word ‘unrequited’ as it confirmed her suspicions. Likely the Lady had simply been her usual lovely self and the old timer had mistaken her kindness for interest. ”Yes, well… just remember that Ameiko is a Lady, not to mention a business owner and an adventurer in her own right. No one is more worthy of respect. You hope to attract her eye, you woo her honorably, Master Magnus. I don’t want to hear you describe her attributes like you’re recommending your favorite dish on the menu.” She nodded again, having said her piece and defended her Lady’s honor in her absence.
_________________________
She smiled at Gheri's introduction, hoping her altercation with Magnus hadn't made her seem like a bully and then turned to the ladies walking nearby. ”Say, you two look like you can handle yourselves in a fight. Would you be up for some sparring when we stop for the night? None of the fellas seemed interested.” She said with a shrug.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Turning he hustles back up to the wagon where Kizzy is talking to Meg. 'Hey Kizzies back' Catching up to the wagon, Seamus leans on the side a little to catch his breath. Nibbing in on the conversation, 'Take your mind off the problem your heart....ah their talking about hearts again,,, I wonder if all of this is about Sappho."
He looks from Kizzy to Meg, "Are you ladies talking about Sappho?" looking back to Kizzy, 'Maybe I shouldn't have interrupted.' He points back the way he came. "Um Is this 'girl talk'? should I leave and come back later?"
"Did you grow up in Sandpoint? I went there once when I was a kid, barely able to run. All I remember is a place called... what's it, the Hagfish?" Hasslo questions himself.
"I do appreciate finely crafted things - houses in particular. I lived in a ramshackle place for years. I'm embarrassed to have called it my home.". He drinks the last bit of his tea before dumping the pot and putting it back in his pack. "Maybe when I'm done adventuring I'll call you up and you can craft me a home."
As they continue walking, Hasslo asks, "What exactly is this festival? I've heard bits and pieces as we walk along, but I don't know the details. Something about Tachycinteta bicolor - tree swallows?"
Meg continues listening to Kizzy's explanation. It is thoughtful and and well-intentioned, but it still does not quite satisfy her. But how does she know which one she will regret more when she does not know what is going to happen? So often,she will think that she made the right choice given what she knew at the time, but then it turns out completely wrong anyways. As Kizzy continues, speaking of taking time to stop thinking about it, Meg brightens. If there is one thing that she is good at, it is keeping herself from thinking about things she does not want to deal with. The feeling of a hand on her shoulder and the wink are not unpleasant, either. "I appreciate your help, Kizzy. I shall need to do just that, I think. I am planning on drinking a great deal at this festival, which should make your suggestion even easier. What are you planning on doing at the festival, darling?"
Her face falls as Seamus reappears mentioning "Sappho." Oh gods, is she going to have to keep that lie up even more? "Oh, um. No. We were talking about...nevermind." She turns to Kizzy. "Sappho is my boyfriend. In Magnimar." She forces a grin at Seamus. "You are under no obligation to leave. It is not girl talk." She sees Kizzy looking for an opportunity to duel, and she practically jumps after her, happy for the excuse to not have to talk more about "Sappho." "Kizzy! I shall happily duel you. I was just telling Seamus that I needed to practice." She turns back to Seamus and taps him on the shoulder.
"I mean that I actually need to practice now. Not a euphemism. I just want you to know I'm not going to try to murder her."
She winks at him then turns her full attention back to Kizzy. "So, how do you want to spar, dear? I must admit to being a little rusty."
Emerik smiled again and shrugged. "Mostly, there's a ceremony where thousands of swallowtail butterflies are released. It's considered a sign of luck to have one land on you. Then the rest of the day is games, markets, dancing and challenges. The Hagfish - the pub you remember - has one for eating...I hesitate to say food. It's not one I've ever been tempted by, but apparently the purse for winning is good and the pride is even better."
Aware of the age difference between humans and Dwarfs, Emerik added, "It may be my apprentices that build a home for you, depending on how long your adventures last, but I'm sure I'd love to see it built."
She walked up beside the young man with the pig and said, "She seems to be a very well-behaved pig. Does she usually travel with you?"
She let the pig sniff her hand before patting it.
|
|
She nodded at the word ‘unrequited’ as it confirmed her suspicions. Likely the Lady had simply been her usual lovely self and the old timer had mistaken her kindness for interest. ”Yes, well… just remember that Ameiko is a Lady, not to mention a business owner and an adventurer in her own right. No one is more worthy of respect. You hope to attract her eye, you woo her honorably, Master Magnus. I don’t want to hear you describe her attributes like you’re recommending your favorite dish on the menu.” She nodded again, having said her piece and defended her Lady’s honor in her absence.
Rather than being offended, Magnus doubles over laughing at Qetsiyah, slapping his knee and nearly losing his breath. "Ha! Well aren't you a feisty one! And a splash of cold water in the face, at the same time! What fun is that?!" he exclaims.
He seems not to care that she scolded him, and responds in kind.
"First, I assure you that I am never up to any good and always in some kind of mischief, so you are not far off base on that account. At the same time, the concept of love and magic in the fey world is much different than what you are worried about. There, a hundred years of age difference matters little. And that's the kind of love I know about. Plus, I assure you that Ameiko can take good care of herself, thank you very much!"
With a twinkle in his eye, he says "But I admire your tenacity in putting your nose in the business of other people, whether they want you sniffing there or not. That's also one of my best qualities!"
Whether or not Qetsiyah is offended, he continues. "So, you're not from Sandpoint but have visited often enough--what brings you there on this occasion?"