Dario is a surprisingly dodgy fellow, not as quick on his feet as Yasami but quick to fade in and out of the crowd as necessary. He jukes and weaves like the tavern is a battlefield, stumbling on a moved chair before a foot stuck out in front of him. He jumped immediately, hip sliding over the edge of a table before his coat is grabbed and he is yanked back.
Bumping into Yasami, the red on his cheeks from embarrassment had faded and was replaced with a slightly winded red. He grins back at her sheepishly, shrugging.
"Oh. Hey there. Fancy seeing you again. Did I tell you I had a crush before." He said with a consternated, confused look for a moment.
"You mentioned it in passing, yes." - a bit short of breath, and not sure whether to punch Dario in the face, she stands there for a few seconds, then lets go of his coat. "Let's sit?", she points to a nearby set of stairs.
She sits down and pats the stairs next to her while looking for Alak and the ales. She looks back at the gunslinger. "Or do you want me to actually wrestle you down? Now's not the time to be coy. Just imagine I have a sausage between my thighs."
She cracks a smile. "Unlike the man you just castrated with your foot. Probably. Gods, why did you do that? Deny the man what you don't want? Not cool, man."
She leans forward and puts her elbows on her knees and gives Dario and inquisitive look. She turns her palms towards the sky in a confused gesture.
Alak came over balancing the remaining mugs carefully, and set them down. "It was a simple diversion," Alak grinned, catching her last couple questions. "That man can now tell people he's fought a Champion. I'm sure he won't mind, once the sting wears off."
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The gunslinger lifts his arms up, moving to the nearby set of stairs as he makes his way beside her. She offers to wrestle him down and he gives a dry laugh, looking about the room but not towards her. His smile is faint as he looks about the room, feeling strangely happy to be out of everyone's eyes. He leans back, elbows resting on the staircase, as he pulls his hat down a little to cover more of his face.
"I...It isn't that. I just..." Dario starts to talk, the small smile dying on his face as he sighs. "You know why I shoot my shot at the most handsome of man, the most gorgeous of women? Because...I know that I'll be rejected. There's no argument to it, its funny and it breaks the ice." He turns towards her, his burnt face on display as he shakes his head again. "See...when you're hopeful, you're doomed. You're set to heartbreak. Better to make it a joke so there's no hard feelings."
"Those people didn't really want me. When we all first arrived, when we were nobodies, nobody gave a damn about me. Now they see the hero and its like my scar disappeared. It ain't real." Dario would give a shrug, missing the feel of a drink in his hand. "Easier to start a fight than to deal with that, I guess."
"Thanks, Alak." Dario said, taking a mug before gently nursing it.
Sulee calls over to Cev, "Next time Dario gets this sloshed, use your redemption on him instead."
"With great love little one, he may be a dick-grabbing pain in the ass, but he is OUR dick-grabbing pain in the ass, and at the risk of sounding like Joran, no one is going to sucker punch a Champion of Breachill. Not on my watch."
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Lisi, for once, doesn't stammer, isn't taken aback, and doesn't let any of his shy hesitations get in the way, and flows smoothly from his seat into Narine's arms. At first he's content to dance close to her, then swing apart, clapping occasionally as befits a village dance.
Then he gets an almost evil look in his eye. He gets a mug from the table, and sets it down in front of him and dances around it, clearing a small circle of space. Keeping his eyes on Narine, he moves in dainty steps, then hops on to the mug, balancing on one foot. He then steps off, dances around, does several fake-outs and fancy footwork around the mug, and then hops on again on one foot, and bows all the way to the floor to Narine Howerdell, Belle of the Woods. That being done, he steps off again, pretends to pluck some hair or sawdust out of the mug, and puts it on a passing barmaid's tray, and returns to Narine, a little out of breath, but rather dashingly so.
Narine had every intention of flustering Lisi by getting him out of his element on the dance floor, and as he put on his show she just stared in slack-jawed amazement.
She didn't take her eyes off him as one of Trin's helpers walked by with a tray full of narrow fluted glasses of sparkling wine, she just swiped one and downed it in one gulp. "Where in the world did you learn to do that!?" she exclaimed.
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Yasami frowns as she hears Dario's outpour. She lets him finish while Alak sits to her other side, and takes one of the containers with a thankful nod. She sighs, and does a big swig.
"Alright, I'll play your game. Want to talk unrequited love? I'll tell you a story. And Alak could probably tell you one, too.", she looks at the armiger with an apologetic face, grabs his head with both hands, and gives him a peck on the forehead. "I'm sorry. It's not meant to be." She turns around, shoves Dario's hat off, and kisses his forehead as well. "But at least Alak shot his shot. And it almost got him killed. You, on the other hand - you just gave up before the battle. And for VERY dumb reasons. Anyway..." she raises her pitcher for a toast. "To one-sided sentiments. May they cease being. What a world would that be, huh?" she smiles a forced smile, gets lost in thought. Yasami's eyes water and a tear rolls down her cheek.
After a few moments, she wipes her face, takes a sip, and stands up, reinvigorated. "But I promised you boys a story, didn't I?", she raises her index finger towards the sky. "If you want to hear it, however, we will need some privacy. Dark room?"
Alak turns a couple shades swarthier at her words but masks it with a smile, though that turns to a concerned frown at her show of emotion. "Dark room," he states his agreement, curious to know more about Yasami. His friend.
"There are Kellids in Cheliax who claim they've been there longer than any other Kellid tribe," says Lisitsei, getting a second flute on the way back, then a third, offering the second (first?) one to Narine.
"I have no idea if they're telling the truth about that, but they like to lift big rocks, eat goat cheese, and they occasionally dance on glasses. My family visited them twice when I was on business trips, and I was left relatively unattended during negotiations with various landowners, and got to chatting with the Kellid help instead. And thus..."
He takes a sip. "But mind you, they're better than I am. I used a mug. They'll use a glass wine cup, and in slippery formal shoes besides. And Narine, truly, I've seen you log rolling on Breach Creek. You could dance on a wine glass in no time."
The gunslinger laughs as she knocks his hat off, picking it up off the ground and dusting it off on his side. His smile is earnest if saddened, the grey-blues turning to look between Alak and Yasami.
"I reckon you're right. I suppose I just ain't looking for a fight in everything. Not in that." He muttered, almost lifting his glass as a toast. He stopped though when he didn't see the earnest look in the swashbuckler's eyes, the way they watered and lightly ran down her cheeks stilled his arm like a weight sat on it.
"A good reason there but...it is bad luck to toast to sad things." Dario would say apologetically, patting her on the back. Rising to his feet and sobered up some by melancholy, he brushes himself off and nods. "Yeah, to the Dark Room. Let us find some peace and quiet."
Yasami frowns as she hears Dario's outpour. She lets him finish while Alak sits to her other side, and takes one of the containers with a thankful nod. She sighs, and does a big swig.
"Alright, I'll play your game. Want to talk unrequited love? I'll tell you a story. And Alak could probably tell you one, too.", she looks at the armiger with an apologetic face, grabs his head with both hands, and gives him a peck on the forehead. "I'm sorry. It's not meant to be." She turns around, shoves Dario's hat off, and kisses his forehead as well. "But at least Alak shot his shot. And it almost got him killed. You, on the other hand - you just gave up before the battle. And for VERY dumb reasons. Anyway..." she raises her pitcher for a toast. "To one-sided sentiments. May they cease being. What a world would that be, huh?" she smiles a forced smile, gets lost in thought. Yasami's eyes water and a tear rolls down her cheek.
After a few moments, she wipes her face, takes a sip, and stands up, reinvigorated. "But I promised you boys a story, didn't I?", she raises her index finger towards the sky. "If you want to hear it, however, we will need some privacy. Dark room?"
"I do hope you'll pardon me for overhearing you Lady Yasamina, but might I include myself in the invitation and the storytelling? From time to time priests are known to convey colorful stories as well ..."
Dario clasped Cevendyll on his shoulder, giving a small smile and a nod.
"I'm not sure our stories will be cheerful but you've bled and fought alongside us Cev. Of course you're welcome." Putting his arm around the half-elf's shoulder, they'd make their way to the hidden passage to the Dark Room.
"Trust me friend, I chose the word "colorful" with purpose; stories which escape the temple are rarely pious, reverant, or chaste ... and the cheerful stories are mostly fabricated. Who knows, maybe I'm protective of dick-grabbing drunks for a reason."
No one could recall EVER having seen Cev wink before that moment
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Yasami silently gestures to Cev to join in as she orders a few more pitchers. As they move into the Dark Room, she closes the door. She checks the alcoves once again, to make sure nobody is listening in, then stands near the table with her palms on top. Doubt creeps into her face, and she seems to be considering something for a moment, but then starts.
"Sit down, friends. Let me tell you the promised story." she takes a sip from her mug.
"Our story begins in a land beyond seven rivers, seven valleys, and seven mountains - in the beautiful land of Rostland - a land of proud, defiant people, and starts in an academy. Specifically, in a class of Music and Performance. A young fire dancer enters the auditorium for the first time, and looks around. She politely, but quietly greets everyone, and introduces herself. She explains and showcases her talent to the lecturer, and is assigned to further improve on her techniques. The passion is there, but the execution needs some fine-tuning. She is assigned to another student, a musician. They are to perform in tandem and practice together. Smiling, Dancer looks around the hall to find the student assigned to her. Nobody raises their hand visibly, but several other students point toward Musician. Dancer briskly walks towards Musician."
Yasami stops talking for a short moment, and sighs. "Musician seems shy to initiate the introductions, so Dancer takes the reigns. When their eyes meet, Dancer is stunned. Two black, captivating orbs, each enveloped in a grey halo. If there ever was a rainbow that was colourless, yet managed to retain the same beauty, this was it. Rosey cheeks, the most adorable nose Dancer ever lay eyes on, and laugh lines. All of that framed by raven hair with a light curve, stopping just below the shoulders. Dancer is lost for words, but manages to offer a handshake at least. They exchange names, and sit down. Weeks of practice go by, and Dancer makes a few advances toward Musician. Prodding here and there. But nothing happens. They start performing together on the streets, and rent a small room from the profits. They stay there together, further improving their act. Dancer tries to make a few more advances with Musician, but nothing comes of it. Dancer is devastated, and starts praying to Shelyn for help. They brush each other's hair, talk, hold hands - one as a friend, the other with the hope of something more in heart. It eats at Dancer's very being, driving Dancer insane. How can such a feeling not be mutual? But as far as Musician is concerned, they are 'only' friends."
Yasmaina downs her drink in one go before cotinuing. Her hands and knees shake as she does. She sits down.
"Dancer and Musician receive a request to perform for a small gathering at a local noble estate. Musician doesn't want to go, but Dancer convinces her to."
Her eyes start to water again and she reaches for the pitcher to pour. "Enter Heir, a young noble from said lineage. They all meet at the estate after the performance. Heir woos Musician and begins to court her. Dancer sees Heir visiting Musician in their rented residence, and then sees Heir leaving in the morning. Dancer's mother is a servant, and her father is a merchant. Dancer was never legally accepted into the merchant's family, and warns Musician about the possibilities. Musician doesn't seem to mind. 'Heir loves me!', Musician says, 'We will be together.'"
She downs another drink. "A year later, Musician goes into labour at home. But it's too soon. It should be at least two more months. Dancer is a novice medical practitioner - she tries to carry Musician into a temple, just in case. They don't make it. Musician gives birth in the streets of Restov, in the cold autumn rain. But she gets paler by the second, and something is not right. If Dancer would have stayed at home, they could have used Dancer's medical supplies to help. If they would have gotten to the temple, the priests would..."
Yasami is clearly emotional at this point. She wipes tears off her face regularly.
"Help me, Mina...", Yasami whispers under her breath. "Please help me."
She takes a few breaths before continuing, her voice shaky, but back to audible volume. "I tried. Something ruptured. She lost too much blood. I had no clean rags, no sewing, nothing. I held her and her child in my arms as she begged for my help, and there was nothing I could do, except being there for her final moments. Looking at those beautiful eyes filled with fear and lost hope. Powerless to stop the world from taking her from me, and denying me my right to love."
She drink some more as she pauses, and looks around you before continuing. "He didn't come to the funeral. He never even saw his child. No interest. I seduced him, I drugged him, and I injected him with blood in his sleep. Blood I collected in morgues from several cadavers with particularly nasty diseases. Last time I heard, his jaw and face nad rotten off before he died. But at least I took his daughter to his funeral. Then I left the country."
She smiles for a change. "I guess there's no moral to the story. But it does feel good to finally get it off my chest. Thank you."
"The kid is well. A lovely girl. But I can't look at her. At least not for now. It's..." she sighs. "... tearing me apart."
Yasami finishes her drink in silence, then and looks around the table. "Nobody can know this. I trust you can swear that to me? Because if you can't do that, I will have to put you down. Or try to, at least."
Then she looks at the hellknight. "Alak, I apologise if you feel I have lead you on. It was not my intention. I guess it's a habit that comes with my line of work - being engaging and sociable."
Dario settles into his seat, an air of casual drunkenness around him as he leans into the comforting, old wood and stuffed, relaxing cushions. Yet as the story progresses, the relaxed indifference begins to fade. Furrowed eyebrows, tightly pressed lips, his drinks forgotten as he leans forward and rests his chin on his hands. By the end of it, the man is sitting on the edge of his seat.
The sad tale of unrequited love, vengeance, and tragedy comes to its conclusion and the man remains silent for a moment. Eyes that are a mix of stormy clouds and soft rains watch her as she turns towards Alak and apologizes for any misconstrued motions. The chair slides out from under him, his sword and pistol rattling at he moves around the table to her.
Gloved hands reach down and slip under her arms, hefting her from her seat before wrapping her up tightly in the strongest hug that he could muster. If it wasn't for the fact he was a mere 5'5, he'd hoist her up higher.
"What a fine yet sad tale, my friend." Dario said after putting her down, hands resting on her shoulders. "Still has time for a happier ending, in time. Don't let your feet turn to stone before you talk to her." Reaching down, Dario would lift his mug up into the air between the four of them. "To love. Great and terrible as it is."
Alak was equally transfixed by the tale, and was shaking his head before she finished speaking.
"Yasami, you owe me no apology," he said firmly. "If anything you did the very opposite and were quite clear from the get-go," he smiled, then his face became serious again. "I am honored that you would share your tale with me. I'll stop pining after you like a lovesick schoolboy. You're just a very difficult person not to admire. I mean after all...you've entirely shifted the course of my life."
He grinned wryly. "How could this amazing woman be so utterly convinced the Order I'd called family my whole life was so deeply flawed? It was the crack that led to the shattering of my entire worldview. So yes, you've left your mark on me, my friend. But I can't honestly say the rest of you haven't, as well. I suppose that's what friends do to one another. It's my first time having any, so pardon my clumsy handling of the relationship."
"Some worship in temples, yet others worship simply by living. While I think you devote your worship Shelyn, and without doubt you give her praise in almost every movement of your body, know that your story shows your reverence for wisdom & knowledge, and has now been heard by Yuelral. The Wise is certainly no stranger to the meandering path of wisdom, and she also keeps her eye on the wayward. How blessed are we that your friend's light was never dimmed; that you took it within yourself and swore to learn all that you could to save others. You are as profound as you are beautiful."
"There is great wisdom in some who choose to be parents, and sometimes greater wisdom in those who do not. Know this: when you are truly ready, when you are ready to send for your daughter, I will be ready to protect her."
Renali watched the party unfold with wide, interested eyes, lurking on the fringes of the crowd. She had something in her hand, and anyone who came close enough would see it was a small notepad, and she was jotting down notes in a strangely pretty, criss-crossing script.
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As the party wore on, Trin wore down, and sometime well past the peak of things she came over to Joran and all but collapsed into his lap, sitting sideways across him. "If you Champions are going to continue to bring me this much business, I'm going to need to hire on more hands." Her face was flushed from exertion, but she was smiling. "I just set the keg out for people to serve themselves and warned my army of adolescents not to overindulge themselves while serving up the harder stuff. My feet aren't going to carry me another step, I don't care if I'm robbed blind at this point." She leaned into him, using his shoulder to rest her head, enjoying the comfort.
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He takes a sip. "But mind you, they're better than I am. I used a mug. They'll use a glass wine cup, and in slippery formal shoes besides. And Narine, truly, I've seen you log rolling on Breach Creek. You could dance on a wine glass in no time."
Narine did not attempt to dance on a wine glass, but she certainly enjoyed a few more tunes with her surprising companion. By the time they decided they'd had enough, both were sweating in the crowded room, and she took his hand. "Let's go a far a walk. I need a bit of air."
Yasami welcomes Dario's embrace. She smiles as he tries to lift her off the floor. She looks at the gunslinger when he lets go. "Wasn't that bad, was it?" In return she hugs him again and lifts him up. With some difficulty, but she manages.
Then looks to Cev. "As for meeting my adopted child one day... well I'm definitely not punching the nearest person in the face when the time comes.", she cracks a smile. "But I can't go see her either way. It's been a while since I heard any news, but..." she looks at the ceiling for a moment. "There might be bounty hunters on my tail. Who's to know? I tried covering my tracks. But mistakes might have been made. We'll see. In time."
And then wals to Alak with an apologetic face. "I hear you, but still kind of feel bad about it. Maybe after I get to sleep on it. A few times. Friend.", and she spreads her arms for another hug. As she has her head next to Alak's, she whispers quietly. "You're a good man. You'll find your match." And then she lets go with a surprising jolt of energy. "BESIDES! You might be an owner of a fort now. Opportunities will be plenty."
"Oh and Cevendyll... please don't try to convert me. You'll just be wasting energy there."
She picks up her pitcher to honor Dario's toast. Drinks some, then gets a little more serious. "But really - thanks for listening to me. It's been like... a shadow over my conscience for almost three years now. Let's hope that's one demon out of the closet." Yasamina lets out a sigh of relief, and seems to be turning to her cheerful personality again.
"But not to worry. I'm like an onion. Welcome to layer number three, gentlemen. There's still plenty to discover. But remember...", she cuts herself off right then and puts her index finger to her lips and winks as she looks at the men in the room. "Without a little mystery, the world is a dull place."
"And now, I feel like dancing. Just need to wash the salt and snot off my face. See you upstairs?"
Sulee flies over and lands near Renali. "Taking notes? Caiten does that too sometimes when he is in a new culture. How are you doing here? Any problems that you have run into?"
Lisi takes Narine's and walks out with her, strolling past the lumberyard.
"I've a fancy to go to the woods. Will you indulge me?"
His eyes twinkle. He looks ready to leap into the forest, but at the very edge of the Crimson Tide Wood, he notes a few stumps and stops.
"Can I show you something? I was going to use this spell, in case the barghest came after someone who was injured or incapacitated. That someone could have been me, of course," he says with a resumption of his usual self-deferential chuckle. But then he draws himself up and concentrates on the stump.
A six foot tree suddenly sprouts from the stump, like a pin regrowing from a broken tack head. Lisitsei inspects it.
"Yes...it's a beech, like the stump, but...we'll see in a minute. Once the spell ends, it should remain here, as a healthy young tree."
He turns to Narine. "Now, if I were to train a few people in druidry for this spell..." He rubs his hands together and laughs. "Gods, I almost sound like my father. You know he was Druman, yes? Not from Breachton. My siblings, their mother was, through and through, but he was all about trade, and accumulating wealth. But wealth...well, the mines of the mountains hurt the rivers. We take out ore and gold flows to the mining companies. We take out trees...and I know, I know, you pay your folks fairly and you're not like that awful Consortium I heard about. But...maybe...we can live in a world where several worlds are possible. Where we can all be happy."
He takes her by both hands.
"That was probably the most unromantic romantic thing I've ever said, and I know I've said a few," he says, looking deeply into her eyes, his expression struggling between seriousness and the imp of a smirk trying to escape his lips.
Lisi raises his eyebrows for a second, as if hearing something. Perhaps he does. "Oh. It looks like the tree will live." He gives a big, satisfied, almost dreamy smile.
During the night, while Trin and Joran enjoyed each other's company, they would notice the stupid grin on Dario's face as he watched them. He walked over, grinning at the two of them before speaking.
"I was, I was thinking two things. First off, you two make a lovely couple. I was going to...uhh...shoot my shot at you Trin but, I kindly withdrew. Needed to give Joran a chance here, right?" The gunslinger teased, looking over at the mighty man beside him. Despite foolish decisions and with no shield upon him, Dario had seen him survive fights and wounds that even dwarves would pale from. To say he was impressed would be an understatement. "Secondly, I hope your children take after you Trin. You are both more handsome and more beautiful than Joran is and they deserve the best chances in the world." The gunslinger hiccuped a moment, tasting the alcohol on the back of his tongue as he looked at his cup. "Mmmm, switching to wine was bad."
Joran smiles and then laughs heartily at that last bit. "Get out of here, you drunk!" He gives him a friendly shove. Looking back to Trinil, he shrugs. "As much as I hate to say it, he's got a point. They would stand a better chance with your looks, gorgeous." He winks.
Joran sits at the bar and watches Trin and her multitude of hired hands work their butts off. As the night seems to get a little wilder, Joran rolls up his sleeves. "Okay, this is starting to get crazy. Between Dario kicking people in the crotch and those three in the corner looking none too happy, 'The Oaf's' night is over. Time to be Joran 'The Bouncer' Bravestone and help keep some order for my lovely Trin." And the barbarian spends the rest of the night doing just that, keeping the more rowdy ones in check.
As the party wore on, Trin wore down, and sometime well past the peak of things she came over to Joran and all but collapsed into his lap, sitting sideways across him. "If you Champions are going to continue to bring me this much business, I'm going to need to hire on more hands." Her face was flushed from exertion, but she was smiling. "I just set the keg out for people to serve themselves and warned my army of adolescents not to overindulge themselves while serving up the harder stuff. My feet aren't going to carry me another step, I don't care if I'm robbed blind at this point." She leaned into him, using his shoulder to rest her head, enjoying the comfort.
Chuckling as he wraps his big strong arms around her, "Darlin', I think you need to worry more about Dario than those adolescents." He gives her a kiss on top of her head. "And wherever you need to go, gorgeous, you just let me know. Just think of me as your own personal carriage. I'll carry you anywhere and in any way. You can either get on my shoulders and be 10' tall, on my back like a baby monkey, or I can just carry you in my arms. All good to me any ol' way, darlin'." He gives her a light squeeze as he rests his chin upon her head, sighing contently at how comfortable she feels in his arms.
It was time. Time to visit the Dreamhouse. Time to own their destiny and pay forward their gratitude.
He was incredibly thankful Yasami had agreed to go with him: there were things that were easy, and there were things that were hard, this though, this was none of those. Staring down the evil creature who could have threatened all of Breachill was important. To be honest, they were lucky it had never come to feed …
”Cor'Quessir ath Revar, we thank you. With your aid, we vanquished evil. I think maybe I need to personally apologize for suggesting you could monitor and control the criminal Voz, so I find myself once again grateful. I knew my fellowship owes the temple a debt, and we will repay it forthwith. What other service may I offer while we arrange for the tithe?”
Yasamina quietly pokes Cevendyll while Kellen reconsiders his response. She whispers without moving. "You should have brought me up to speed on the deal we made here. I had no idea we had indebted ourselves."
She then speaks to Kellen without changing her expression. "In addition to helping our friend with his visions. The Dreamhouse was instrumental in defeating this creature."
She walks forward with a (now cleaned) sack of cloth, puts it on the floor in front of the high priest, and unravels it to reveal the head of the barghest. She bows gently as she retreats back and stands by Cevendyll's side.
"We are thankful for that. As for Voz Lirayne, we believe your temple will be able to keep her more malevolent urges in check in the foreseeable future, possibly to scale it down until she is - again - a functional citizen. After all, as far as I understand, the dreams of her own future were the inspiration for her behaviour."
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Sulee flies over and lands near Renali. "Taking notes? Caiten does that too sometimes when he is in a new culture. How are you doing here? Any problems that you have run into?"
Renali smiles and bows in greeting to the diminutive poppet. "For a week, I watched them mourn. Now I watch them in revelry. I must say, both have made an impression. I did not think humans could consume such quantities of alcohol," she said, gesturing towards Dario as he passed, "but perhaps his time with dwarves strengthened his fortitude."
Renali cocked her head to the side. "Actually, I find I am quite curious about you and Caiten. Your symbiosis is astounding. I would be honored to hear the tale of how your paths came to cross."
-------------------
He turns to Narine. "Now, if I were to train a few people in druidry for this spell..." He rubs his hands together and laughs. "Gods, I almost sound like my father. You know he was Druman, yes? Not from Breachton. My siblings, their mother was, through and through, but he was all about trade, and accumulating wealth. But wealth...well, the mines of the mountains hurt the rivers. We take out ore and gold flows to the mining companies. We take out trees...and I know, I know, you pay your folks fairly and you're not like that awful Consortium I heard about. But...maybe...we can live in a world where several worlds are possible. Where we can all be happy."
He takes her by both hands.
"That was probably the most unromantic romantic thing I've ever said, and I know I've said a few," he says, looking deeply into her eyes, his expression struggling between seriousness and the imp of a smirk trying to escape his lips.
"Husbandry," she said as he looked at her, the double entendre of the word catching him momentarily by surprise. She grinned a little, having used the word on purpose for just that reason. "The key to a sustainable logging industry. Plant new life for each one taken, or soon enough, you've destroyed the source of your income."
She squeezed his hands. "You're wrong, you know." She shifted a half step closer to him. They'd been friends a very long time, but something about that little tiny step seemed to cross a new line, as it brought her face close enough he could feel her breath when she spoke. "You've said plenty of less romantic things." Her eyes seemed to search his, and when he smiles his dreamy smile regarding the tree, she grins and shakes her head in amusement, reaching a decision that's been a long time coming.
Narine releases his hands and places her palms alongside Lisi's cheeks, pulling his face towards hers. In the moment before their lips meet she murmurs, "You treasure of a man..." Then the need for words evaporates as she kisses him.
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It isn't very long before Joran realizes Trin fell asleep in his arms. There was something about seeing a person sleeping -- with their guard down completely, you could see little things they normally kept hidden. Trin, for instance, was so keen on maintaining a meticulous appearance. It wasn't vanity -- but she ran a business, and she was always keen to present herself as the face of that business by making a good first impression. She took care to manage her unruly curls, hide the occasional skin blemish with powders and the like...
Now the woman Joran loved was snoring, and the wet spot he felt on his shoulder confirmed she was drooling on him, as well. And somehow, it just made him love her even more.
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As Yasami and Cev reveled the head of the barghest, Kellen frowned, but it was not a look of disgust or irritation -- it was an expression that said 'how did we not know about this?' He took a deep breath and released is, then clasped Cev on the shoulder. "Consider your debt repaid. A little is nothing in the face of this threat being removed. I didn't doubt your need before, my friend, but seeing it in the flesh..." He shook his head as if dismissing unwanted thoughts of the harm it could have wrought.
"As for Voz, Councilor Gardania spoke with me. We've agreed the woman needs a bit of a cooling off period in her cell-- Miss Lirayne was quote opinionated regarding the prospects of serving the town by working with me. Once she's ready to cooperate a little bit, I will be more than happy to do my utmost to guide her back to the light."
"Some dancing sounds fine. I think-I think I've had enough for tonight though. I'll get there once I'm finished with this cup." Dario says, saddling himself back into his seat and giving a little toast to his comrades. The gunslinger would never rejoin them for the night's celebrations. When checked upon, the young man would be fast asleep in his seat, hat resting low, and his feet up on another chair.
"I would be honored to hear the tale of how your paths came to cross."
"It is very simple," Sulee says with an impish smile. "He asked for help and I answered him." She laughs a bit at her own obvious evasion of the request.
"For now that will have to do. I will tell you more when we aren't in so much company. Someday I may even tell the whole story."
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In the tavern, the mighty man would be collided into by Dario who was mid-sip of his beer. Stumbling but catching himself, he gives a big grin as he raises his cup to show not a drop had been spilt.
"Oren, my friend, we were worried about you. I-I realized that we never talked too much. I want to-to rectify that. You're a good man, a little more sensible of the two folks that have biceps the size of my head too. Tell me...tell me your story." Dario asks, leaning against a table either out of need or comfort. It was hard to tell which.
"Oh, sorry." Oren said awkwardly, as Dario bumped into him, although he loosens up as Dario grins and demonstrates that his drink hasn't been spilled.
When Dario asks about himself, Oren takes a seat, wanting to make himself comfortable as he tells his story, something he rarely does, even among the others. "I can't say that it's especially interesting, not at the start at least. I've lived here in Isger my entire life, I grew up in a normal village like any other with two good parents that weren't any richer or poorer than anyone else. It wasn't until the dreams started, and even then, not until it became recurring. It was scary the first time I dreamt of everything burning, but nothing that separated it from a normal nightmare."
"It was when it kept happening that it became a problem. So my parents took me to a priest for help. He interpreted that the dreams were connected to Dahak, that it was a portent of his return, although it now sounds like they're warnings from Desna. Either way, I became obsessed with stopping it. To the point where I didn't have many friends growing up, because I focused more on learning about Dahak and trying to stop his return than anything else."
"But it was when I became an adult that I had the most vivid dream. I dreamt of this town being burned to the ground, without a single survivor. And I knew it was this town, somehow. It was the most horrifying out of all of the dreams, but also the one that gave me purpose. I knew that I had to come here, to stop whatever would destroy this town and all its people, which is why I was at the Call for Heroes. I couldn't let what happened in the dream happen. I still can't."
It isn't very long before Joran realizes Trin fell asleep in his arms. There was something about seeing a person sleeping -- with their guard down completely, you could see little things they normally kept hidden. Trin, for instance, was so keen on maintaining a meticulous appearance. It wasn't vanity -- but she ran a business, and she was always keen to present herself as the face of that business by making a good first impression. She took care to manage her unruly curls, hide the occasional skin blemish with powders and the like...
Now the woman Joran loved was snoring, and the wet spot he felt on his shoulder confirmed she was drooling on him, as well. And somehow, it just made him love her even more.
Joran smiles, shaking his head at the poor exhausted woman. Placing his arms under her legs, he carefully and easily lifts her, keeping her head against his shoulder. He then carries her back to her room and lays her down gently, carefully removing his limbs so as not to disturb her.
Once he's managed to dislodge his arms from under her, he gives her a soft kiss on her temple before tiptoeing his way back out and shutting the door behind him.
Returning to the dining area, he grabs a chair, steps upon it, and clears his throat. "EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME, EVERYONE! THE FESTIVITIES ARE OVER! I REPEAT, THE FESTIVITIES ARE OVER! IT'S TIME FOR YOU ALL TO GO HOME! AND IF ANYONE HAS A PROBLEM WITH THAT, YOU CAN COME AND TAKE IT UP WITH ME! FOR THE RECORD, I DON'T ADVISE THAT!" he states plainly. Rerolling up his sleeves that have fallen, he exposes his massive biceps.
Noticing everyone just kind of sitting there and staring, the barbarian places his hands on his hips, shakes his head, and rolls his eyes before yelling, with a fury this town is probably not accustomed to.
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Lisi responds to the kiss with the briefest start of surprise, but then melts into it. For a long time there is nothing but the two of them, eyes half closed, in the quiet of the Breachton evening.
"You are all the treasure I need, Narine Howerdell," he says, when their lips finally part, idly tracing the muscle of her neck and shoulder, then pauses, cocking his head.
"...did you hear someone yell? I could swear that was Joran. Party must be going well," he says with a chuckle.
He peers into the darkness of the Crimson Tide. "It's lovely out there. I've never been that Erastilian, but...a bower, or a nest made out of branches, that would be nice. For two." He looks at Narine with a sly grin. "I've sat on the edge of your lovely feather quilt enough times to know your bed is more comfortable than any of my hidey-holes out in the wood. If you'd have me over, that is."
Dario awoke mid-snore as he pushed his legs, scooting his chair back and toppling it over. The flabbergasted gunslinger looked around the room. Alone, he brushed himself off and rubbed at the dull, throbbing pain that had taken residence behind his eyes. Most of the night was a blur; too much alcohol and not enough practice with his clan back home.
"Lucky I didn't break my neck. Not the best fate for a champion." It was what they had been calling themselves. At least what Joran had been calling them since Renali honored them before their battle. Through his pain, inspiration began to hit. Grabbing a cloth, he began to write down a slew of words that were running through his mind.
It was time. Time to visit the Dreamhouse. Time to own their destiny and pay forward their gratitude.
He was incredibly thankful Yasami had agreed to go with him: there were things that were easy, and there were things that were hard, this though, this was none of those. Staring down the evil creature who could have threatened all of Breachill was important. To be honest, they were lucky it had never come to feed …
”Cor'Quessir ath Revar, we thank you. With your aid, we vanquished evil. I think maybe I need to personally apologize for suggesting you could monitor and control the criminal Voz, so I find myself once again grateful. I knew my fellowship owes the temple a debt, and we will repay it forthwith. What other service may I offer while we arrange for the tithe?”
Yasamina quietly pokes Cevendyll while Kellen reconsiders his response. She whispers without moving. "You should have brought me up to speed on the deal we made here. I had no idea we had indebted ourselves."
She then speaks to Kellen without changing her expression. "In addition to helping our friend with his visions. The Dreamhouse was instrumental in defeating this creature."
She walks forward with a (now cleaned) sack of cloth, puts it on the floor in front of the high priest, and unravels it to reveal the head of the barghest. She bows gently as she retreats back and stands by Cevendyll's side.
"We are thankful for that. As for Voz Lirayne, we believe your temple will be able to keep her more malevolent urges in check in the foreseeable future, possibly to scale it down until she is - again - a functional citizen. After all, as far as I understand, the dreams of her own future were the inspiration for her behaviour."
Dario had eventually joined them, grimacing at the sun in the sky. He was thankful that his hat kept the sun out of his face as they brought the barghest's head to the temple to be seen. He remains quiet for a bit, his arms folded as he leaned against the cool pillar.
"We all good then? Not to rush but there are some imps to take care of, a golem, just a few things to tie up nice and easy before we're set at the citadel." Dario says with a voice a little more hoarse than usual.
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The next morning, Caiten is sitting in the dark room of the Wizard's Grace going over Voz's spellbook with Sulee and learning some of the spells in it.
And Sulee is absolutely enormous. She still looks like she is made of wood, but she is nearly as tall as Caiten is.
Speech
Manual Dexterity
Independent
Master's Form
Hexes
Stoke the Heart
Phase Familiar
Needle of Vengeance
Cantrips
◆ Shield
◆◆ Haunting Hymn
◆◆ Stabilize
◆◆ Prestidigitation
◆◆ Divine Lance
1st
◆◆ Lock
◆◆ Command
◆◆ Heal
2nd
Heal H+1
Heal H+1
◆◆ Phantom Pain H+1
◆◆ Sudden Blight
3rd
◆◆ Vampiric Touch
◆◆ Fear H+2
After the business in the Dreamhouse is sorted, Yasamina walks back into the Grace to pick up some soup. She wonders how she managed to keep her balance in the temple after last night. Yasamina enters, gives Trinil a courteous 'good morning', pours some broth, and walks into the Dark room. She puts the plate on the table and stops in the middle of sitting down and looks up. Directly at Sulee, flabbergasted. She scans the poppet, not the size of a grown woman. She comes closer, then shakes her head a few times.
"You...", she touches Sulee carefully, as if to not break her. "What?"
Yasamina smiles as her eyes shift between Sulee and Caiten a few times. "I'm not sure if I want to be that person, but..."
She leans forward and puts her palms about one foot apart. "My, have you grown! I remember when you were this small... We can actually do dance lessons now! Whenever you're ready."
"What's up with that?" she keeps scanning Sulee for a while, then sits down to her soup. "Sorry, I need this."
After a few spoonfulls, her eyes light up. "OH! You guys... This armour-" she puts the chain shirt on the table and pats it a few times. "It's a little limiting. Not sure if it's the booze from last night, but I'm pretty sure I can see in the dark now. Last night, I was in my bed, and I'm pretty sure I saw the ceiling clear as day. Guess we were spending too much time underneath the citadel, and now I can see through the night, apparently. And that armour, I can't shake the feeling it's holding me back. I mean I'm sure it would stop a blade from reaching the flesh, but it still somehow feels ... Overly tightening? Anything we can do about that?"
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You hear whistling from a good block away, to the tune of "I am the Skipper", before Lisi saunters in, Guba unflappable and vegetal by his side. He's especially well coiffed today, his usual adventuring clothes cleaned, and there's a whiff of fresh cedar and balsam fir about him. While he didn't have that much to drink last night, he does look like he hasn't slept much, although at the same time, he's fairly bouncing on his soft-soled boots, with a bit of flush showing through his tanned skin on his cheeks and his collarbone.
"Hullo, folks, Sulee," he says, not noticing a single thing different.
She leans forward and puts her palms about one foot apart. "My, have you grown! I remember when you were this small... We can actually do dance lessons now! Whenever you're ready."
Sulee grins and giggles a bit. "I know. It's fantastic."
"This is actually a fairly standard ability for familiars, but it is rather costly too. But since we aren't planning any major attacks, I convinced Caiten to let me indulge a bit. It of course had nothing to do with pointing out that at this size I could actually help carry out junk from the citadel."
"I think we are planning on going somewhere today, but we can probably spare a few minutes at least. While we wait for everyone else to arrive."
Sulee goes over to Yasami, gives a quick curtsy, and holds out one hand.
Dario would come in and look over the fully grown Sulee now, staring her up and down in assessment while Yasami excitedly talked to her.
"Bol'shoy. Teper' marionetka bol'she menya." He mutters in Dwarvish, sitting down in the same seat he fell asleep in before rolling his head to try and get the crick out of his neck. "Going to be a busy day when we get there. Have to clean out the dead and start organizing the goblins to remove the stones. Hard work but it will go by faster than we think." Dario mutters, the idea of physical labor making his entire head pound.
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Once he's managed everyone out, Joran gets to work. He gathers up all of the tableware and places them in the kitchen, straightens and cleans off the tables, places chairs in their proper place, and sweeps. Once done with that, he gets to work on cleaning all the dishes and putting them back where they belong.
Halfway through the night when he finally gets done, he locks the place up and finds himself a seat at a table just to take a load off, lying his head on his forearm. Yawning, "Oh man, what a night. I just need to take a small break, I'm beat. Just going to close my eyes for a moment is all. Just... for... a moment..." is all he manages before passing out. Right there at the table. Not realizing how sore he's going to be in the morning and honestly, not really caring.
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Yasami raises a finger for Sulee to wait just as she is, then attempts to persuade someone to keep a steady tapping rhythm on the table. "No, no... Like this, please." she showcases what she is after by tapping the table a few times. Ta-tap tap ta-tap, pause, ta-tap tap ta tap, pause...
Once people catch on, she reaches for Sulee to swing the popped around a few times. "Since you will be the woman in this due, I will lead, now put your foot like this, and put it back when I put mine forward. You will mimic my motions. We'll do simple stuff for starters. And one, and two, and..."
She starts moving her legs for Sulee to see the first few steps. "Yes, just keep your feet opposite to mine, at approximately the same distance. Yes, great! One, two, one, two, one, two, getting there - three, four... YES!"
"You're a natural talent, darling. Now do the same things, just keep looking me in the eyes. Very important. Dancing in a pair is -usually- an intimate thing. Eye contact."
"Maestros! Music, please!", she smiles at the others in the room and starts the dance again, this time moving around the room with Sulee in circles, adding the occasional hum.
They continue until the others arrive, releasing Sulee's right hand and gently shoving her away while holding her left hand in her right to finish the performance.
She lets go, bows gently, and does a little clap. "Really good. Was a pleasure. Now to the business of Altaerein?"
By the time Yasami's lessons are complete, the party has gathered, including Alak and Renali. Alak is looking much better after some proper food and rest. Renali, still in human form, was up very late watching and learning about celebrations, and her hair is adorably frizzy -- she, too, fell asleep in the common room, and neglected to find a bed for the night.
Trin serves up a hangover-helping breakfast of eggs and toasts with honey, along with ginger tea to settle any upset stomachs. She smiles at Joran, having surmised how she got into bed, and kisses him atop his head when she sets his plate out, then sits beside him and nurses a cup of tea herself. "So now that you've cleared out the squatters, you're off to claim your prize?" she asked the table with a smile. "I can put out some feelers for workers, if you like. I imagine the place will be a fixer-upper after all these years of being abandoned, and I know a few people in town out of work who'd be able to lend a hand."
Sulee catches on to the dance moves fairly quickly, and has a fantastically good time dancing around the room with Yasami.
"Oh, that was fun. But yes, we have a citadel to take care of."
Caiten sees Alak come in. "Alak, are you feeling well enough to go back through the caverns? You mentioned that your ring would very likely provide authority over the guardians of the portal. So if you are not up to the trip, can we borrow your ring? I would like to have the last of the potential dangers of the citadel resolved before we bring in workers."
Alak nodded and pulled off his father's ring. "Of course. I thought I might go get to know our goblin friends a bit better. Maybe see if Warbal can teach me a few words of their language. If we're all going to be living and working together, best we can all communicate. Perhaps when you all return you can meet me there?". He hands Caiten the ring without hesitation.
"Thank you," Caiten says as he accepts the ring. "I will meet you in the Goblin encampment then."
He calls out to the rest of the group in the Wizard's Grace, "We should get this taken care of." Caiten leaves, heading towards the caverns again.
When they get to the hole in the floor at the end of the cavern and are making their way down the ropes, Sulee mentions, "Yeah, this was a lot easier when I could fly."
A short time later, you all arrive within the crumbling section of ruins where you fought Voz and the cultists yesterday. Now that the situation is less dire, you get a better look at the area. It seems to have once been a small complex of rooms, but their original use is anyone’s guess today, for some ancient catastrophe seems to have melted the walls in places, leaving behind a half-demolished complex. In the few places where the walls are still intact, however, the delicate carvings indicate that whoever once built these rooms was a skilled artisan. Far to the southwest, a partially melted stone archway opens into a larger room.
Within that room lies the destination you've sought all this time, even before you heard it named. The place that spurred Calmont to such desperation that he started the fire that brought you all together.
Alseta's Ring.
The walls and domed ceiling of the large circular chamber are elegantly carved in spiraling designs. To the north, a double door stands in the side of a squared-off column protruding from the wall, while to the south an open archway leads to a stairwell leading up that’s been blocked by rubble.
In the center of the room stand six statues of elves, all facing outward and arrayed around a dry fountain. Starting with the most northeastern statue and going clockwise, these statues depict Alseta, Yuelral, Findeladlara, Ketephys, Calistria, and Desna -- all of whom Cev can readily identify, and several of which you all recognize.
Empty benches sit in four alcoves to the east and west, nestled between six stone archways built into the wall. Each of these archways bears a different type of decor, but with the exception of the northeastern archway (which you are all presently emerging from), each archway leads nowhere — they are filled with plain, featureless walls of polished stone.
Each of the archways is carved with a different design, and a name is emblazoned in Elvish above it. The archway you emerge from is decimated, but what fragments remain around the edges show carvings of Lotuses. The one across from Yuelral, Jewelgate, is decorated with crystals and stalagmites. South of that one is a gate decorated with a sunset motif and beautiful desert architecture, called Duskgate. Continuing to the west, images of hawks and moons, interspersed with jungle vegetation and trees, decorate Huntergate. The central western archway, Vengegate, is adorned with images of wasps, whips, and the waves of the open sea. Finally, butterflies and stars grace the archway across from Desna, Dreamgate.
As you enter the chamber fully, the double doors to the north reveal theselves to in fact be a massive tower shield belonging to a metallic golem that steps toward you, until Caiten holds up Alak's ring. The golem stops in its tracks, as though it were merely a statue.
Caiten walks into the chamber and takes a quick look around. Before he can fully analyze anything, the doors in the doorway stand up and walk towards him. He quickly holds up his hand with the ring, but also brings to mind one of his spells in preparation to cast.
But the ring does in fact trigger the golem to stand down. "Interesting. It really is a golem made of door. Pib and Zarf were accurate in their description."
He addresses the guardian. "We are taking ownership of this citadel and the artifact in this room. Will you allow us entry to this chamber? Will you allow us entry to the room beyond your doorway? And do we need to keep this ring with us when we are here, or will you recognize us in the future?"
Cevendyl is, as might be expected, awestruck. He was here. Everything he believe in for his whole life, the blessing of his reforging at the hands of his goddess: so much of Elven history, right in front of him.