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Bescha rolls her eyes as she pushes forward with the rest of the group, unsure of how to take this. Perhaps the lightfoot was overestimating his abilities, or maybe whatever trap was in place was beyond him... either way, this was not a good omen for how this encounter may go.
"We still do not know what or who this thing is, how many there may be, or why the trap was set... it still could be an honest mistake," Bescha muses. She hadn't been very far outside of the village before, and this was a strange context to be doing so. "We don't know that they are dangerous. I believe we should talk to them before doing something rash like attacking on sight." She pointedly keeps her hammer hanging from her belt.
"Let's just hope there's no need," Bescha says even as she rests a hand on the pommel of her hammer. That spirit made her grin, but it would be less than ideal if this turned into a real melee, or if there was more than one culprit... She places herself near everyone, trying to be within arm's reach of the others.
Bescha always slept more soundly on the large, overstuffed couch in the library of her home rather than the bedroom above - the bed always seemed just a little too large, and she preferred sleeping in the relative roughage of the empty downstairs library these days. She rose with some protest of her knees - their popping echoed around the room - and tore into some stale bread and wine for breakfast. Just something light. Bits of the red liquid splashed onto her spellbook as she rested it open on the table next to her and looked over its contents, memorizing spells as she had practiced many times before.
She arrived a bit later than the others, her spell preparation taking a minute longer than usual, but ended up back with the rest of the group around the strange hole in the ground, nodding to the others with a neutral expression. "Shouldn't be a problem, sheriff. Probably just some young punks need a good talking to. Can't see what anyone would gain out of something like this other than some evil prank..."
Hey all, super sorry I've been MIA for a couple days - midterms hit me like a truck. I'll catch up soon and post something tomorrow when I get a minute.
Bescha raises her eyebrow at Melethiel's sudden magical talent - not something to be expected of someone with her physique, but the dwarf supposed she had seen stranger things in her books... some people just had magic thrust upon them. "So long as the light's good enough for you lot to see, I'd like to keep up with this trail." Tracking wasn't her forte, but the redhead seemed to know what she was doing.
"Looks like some kind of hunting trap," says Bescha, considering it without looking too much closer as the strange group was already huddling around the pit. "You say Johnny only got his foot messed up? Sounds like he got lucky..."
"Could it be some hunter just set up the trap and forgot about it? Doesn't seem out of the question, although..." she looks around the wooded area, "...That means he may have set up more around here."
Agreed, sometimes the weekends can slow stuff down but definitely not uninteresting!
"There might be a problem..." Bescha hopped down off the bar stool and nodded to Aviz. "Doesn't sound like much of a hunter's trap." She makes her way over to the small crowd of people now huddling around the sheriff, tucking her book into her sidebag and makes herself known. "A pit trap? Somethin' feels off, Sheriff, why don't I come along?"
Bescha wrinkles her brow. "Not usually. But there are plenty of things in these woods that wouldn't mind taking a bite out of you or me... there may be a rowdy stranger or two but this could be a bit more serious." She rests a hand unconsciously on her warhammer - "You much of a fighter, Aviz?"
I am enjoying the RP but also ready to move on! A dynamic group to be sure.
"A while back, he got sick. Pretty bad disease, I don't think that we even know what it was... not really." Bescha shrugs. "It's the way life can be sometimes. The village doesn't have healers that can do much more'n take care of a broke bone or two. All we could do was make him comfortable..." She trails off momentarily, taking a sip from her drink. "There are worse ways to go."
Bescha stifles a laugh as Aviz lets out the understated condolences. He's just a kid. Wonder why his common's so bad? She ponders for a moment on Aviz's genuine question, though she already knows the answer. "Not for a while yet, but... eventually, one day, it hurts less than the day before. Some days'll be easier than others, some'll be worse as you go along in life." She pokes herself in her chest, towards her heart. "But you'll always have a piece of 'em with you. Your memories, their words, and I guarantee that having that piece is worth any of th' pain."
Bescha waves a hand dismissively. "Long as you don't mean me 'n mine any harm I couldn't care less whatcha look like." She takes a swig from her drink and considers his goals "Interesting. Well, even a mage-dwarf will narrow it down a good deal. Mountain folk are not usually known for their arcane pursuits, but there are a few here and there... Although some of them may not be so amenable to your appearance, especially under the mountains." The dwarf sighs and smiles at his question. "He was my husband," she states matter of factly. Having been given condolences many times before in the intervening years since his death, she quickly adds - "But he passed a long time ago, now."
Bescha glances at Aviz's hands as she shakes them, noting the scar but not attempting to stare. Bhu had come back from one of her adventures with a large gash across her arm - she hadn't liked it when people stared. Bescha let out a chuckle, and shook her head. "Ah, no, the man never liked to be out of town for more'n a day. He could hardly get out of the village without hurting himself." She smiles in fond memory. "He had luck like a pugwampi was attached to his back." She leans back casually. "Sounds like he may not be who you're looking for. Almas, huh? That's a ways outta here. You heard word about this blackbeard coming to Daggor? Lots of kin come out for the festival."
Bescha frowns as she considers the dwarves in the village. "Elgi - just a bit of the dwarven tongue, child, means 'elf'. What is your business with this dwarf?" The dwarf nods to Barnorn with a small smile. "I did know someone like that, but... well, he's gone onto the boneyard, now. You won't find many arcanists around Daggor, but plenty of dwarves." The elf seemed a bit strange, but seemed genuine enough. Had he known Aird? The man hardly ever left the village, and certainly would have spoken of an acquaintance like this. "Th' name's Bescha, by the way." She extends a work-worn hand to the dark-skinned man.
Bescha enjoyed studying. Perhaps it was all the time her late husband had left her with, and only books to keep her company, or maybe it was out of some searching for something new... something interesting. She couldn't be a widower forever, even as she continued to dress in black leathers on her woodcutting job, even as she still hadn't removed the iron ring that had bound the pair in life. Children gone, no husband, she couldn't maintain the local library... "Feh!" Bescha shook her head at her own foolishness. Perhaps it was time to get out and interact a bit more with the town. Especially with the festival upcoming... maybe she could find a small group of travelers. Maybe join them. There wasn't much to stop her, anymore.
An exciting night indeed for the inn, the sound of drums and stories and crowds filling the place with noise and vigor. Bescha smiled, politely, with the friendliness she could muster towards the patrons she knew. The dwarf dressed in a rugged tunic and fur-lined cloak, all earth tones, and her red braided hair fell in twin tails down her back. Small frown lines had begun to form in her face, outlining her resting serious expression. The Axe and Keg had been a place of rest for her for a short time - it was easy to pop in after a long and hard day of logging, for a drink and to think. It was a place untainted with memories for Bescha, having been constructed after her husband's death, which made it a peaceful escape on the bad days, early on into her mourning. Now, though, she would come here to study. Her self-taught magics were a passion that she focused on very studiously, but sometimes the library was just too quiet - the soft rumbling of the crowd and the smell of ale focused her thoughts, and had helped her develop a small retinue of spells. She posted up at the bar, her usual spot, with the most recent magic book she had retrieved from her library split open and resting on the bar, next to her magical focus - the hammer her father had left her. She liked having it with her when she was studying magic. Even if she didn't cast spells, ever since she had first made a small spark of flame with it, it felt wrong to leave it behind. The weapon had a name once, but when she had inherited it, Bescha had failed to re-christen it. She assumed the right name would come to her in the adventures she was sure to have. Maybe someday - someday soon.
She watched the travelers with some intent, slowly downing her third grog of the night. The axeroot had certainly not lost its appeal. A number of interesting people had already entered, but her ears perked up at the strange dark man - a drow, perhaps? - asking about a magic-using dwarf. Was there another mage in town? She wracked her memory as she shifted her textbook and warhammer to her pack and sidled up towards the man and speaks with an accent, although one that is much lighter than most dwarves in Daggor. "'Scuse me, elgi, i hope you don't mind me just happening to overhear - you're looking for a mage-dwarf? I know most people 'round these parts." She strokes her chin, considering.
Before I make my first post - I've made a small change to Bescha, making her school the "counterspell" subschool, with the intent to have her break spells with her hammer! Like a true dwarf!
Hm, I don't see myself doing much crafting, but if I take the time to enhance my bonded item I am probably not going to risk losing the darn thing >_>
Bescha, here! I don't really have a plan at large for her, but given that the party seems to have a good number of people who can wade into melee, I may reneg on my plans to go into eldritch knight and stick to full wizard. Still, in any case with her abjuration abilities, she at least won't be helpless in whatever enclosed spaces we may end up going into. The other possibility I'm considering is a Loremaster... but we'll see. With the party comp as it is, I'll probably focus on launching debuffs and conjuring walls and various other blockages to keep these youngbloods from being too overeager. She'll also be the one to ask any lore-related questions, given her time in the library.
I'm glad to be on board! Look forward to gaming with all of you. |
