Delan R.'s page

He was glad he’d taken the time to approach quietly, since it didn’t take long for him to realize that the group was indeed rather heavily focused on some task. Or at least, most of them were. Moira and Domitian were unsurprisingly nose deep in investigating signs through the ruins of their god, with Mehaila standing by to assist them.

It was Rose that took the time to approach him, surprising him with not only appearing to be excited to see him but also giving him a hug, a gesture of friendship that he hadn’t received from anyone in a long time. There was only a brief moment of shock before he squashed it down and accepted the embrace, returning it even. “I am still healing,” he admitted quietly, keeping his voice down to as not to interrupt what the others were doing, “I probably will be for a long time. But while I was at the fort, Shelyn took the time to help me… put things in perspective. I can’t go into too many details, because some of it is not my information to share, but I was reminded that my place now is here with all of you, trying to make this land safer so that the things that happened to me don’t happen to someone else.”

Despite knowing that they wouldn’t turn him away, as his goddess had made it quite clear this was where he was meant to be, he was still relieved when Rose vocalized that he was welcome to rejoin them. He chuckled lightly when she elbowed his ribs a little and commented on giving the others space to do their thing. “This place is beautiful, even in its state of overgrowth. Why are you guys here? What are you looking for?” Delan was still keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t carry over to the other and interrupt their focus, but his green eyes were furrowed in confusion and curiosity. He noted the vial of algae water in Rosa’s hand, obviously a sample of something that the alchemist planned on studying later.

Trauma was a fickle creature.

When Delan had been rescued by the group of odd adventurers that had stumbled into his life, he’d been given a second chance to avenge the brutal murders of his parents. They had been hunting bandits, among other things, to rid the land of dangerous threats and he had been all too eager to join them. Especially when their journey was leading them straight to the top of the band of miscreants responsible for not only killing the people in his life that he cherished most, but also for creating the abomination that was Kressle. So when the group had offered to let him tag along, he accepted immediately, even pledging themselves to their bigger cause.

And they’d done it. The bandits had been destroyed, though they were hardly bandits anymore by the time they’d gotten there. It hardly mattered to him, of course. They had made things right, removed an evil from the land and now his family — as well as countless others who had been affected by the bandits — could rest in peace.

But what Delan quickly found was that he could not.

Once the deed was done and they had returned back to Oleg’s fort, Delan found he no longer had anything that was truly driving him. Before he could focus on putting his parents spirits to rest, but now all he could think about was Kressle and everything that had happened while he’d been with the bandits. The trauma was quickly catching up with him and he realized that he was in no condition to help his newly made allies. So he had elected to stay at the fort for a while, explaining to the others that he needed time to himself to spend with Shelyn, to meditate for need of spiritual healing. He would not abandon them. Right now they were everything he had, and he owed them everything, but he could not be of use to them in his current state.

Over the next few weeks, things did not get easier. He did his best to stay productive and to keep himself busy, mostly by helping Oleg and Svetlana around at the fort in whatever capacity they needed. Mostly it was a lot of cooking and manual labor, but he was more than happy to contribute. However, every night he was plagued by nightmares. He’d wake in cold sweats with the image of his parents’ bloodied, eviscerated bodies staring at him in horror and agony. The sound of Kressle’s voice rang vivid in his ear as if she were still beside him, mocking him, abusing him, using him. His skin would crawl where he could still feel her unwanted hands on his body, the scars she’d given him in the throes of her sick, twisted fantasies burning red hot as the day he’d received them.

Every night he wept. Nothing Delan did could erase those memories, or even make them less pronounced in his heart. No matter how hard he prayed, begging Shelyn in sobbing prostration to grant his aching heart mercy, nothing brought him healing. He became secluded, numb… hopeless. Less and less did he engage the people of the fort around him, withdrawing into himself and his unrelenting anguish until he appeared as little more than a haunted shell of the man that he was carrying himself to be even a couple weeks ago.

It was at the heart of his despair that a blessing finally came to clear his head and his heart. Without warning, Delan found himself the unintended eavesdropper to a vicious verbal argument between Svetlana and Oleg. It had shocked him to hear their raised voices unleashed on one another with such fury, when the couple had never been anything but tender and understanding toward one another, yet there they were. He did his best not to listen. It wasn’t his business. However, nothing could keep him from clearly hearing the roar of Oleg’s voice as he quite firmly informed his wife that he did not intend to bring a child into this world, not when it was so dangerous. Not when the only degree of security they had was a group of adventurers that were gone for weeks at a time with no guarantee that they’d return alive.

The argument had ended with Svetlana racing away in tears into their home, while Oleg practically stormed back to work on the living quarters they were attaching to the guards' barracks for when the adventurers stayed with them. Neither had noticed him. But Delan had noticed something very important. The way Svetlana had ran away, the way her hand was resting on her stomach so tenderly… protectively… it dawned on him that she was already pregnant.

Against his original intentions, he decided to intervene. Miraculously, Svetlana had answered when he knocked. She was an absolute wreck in a way that resounded with him on a very personal level. She simply looked how his heart felt: broken, anxious, lost. Ultimately, he’d needed to use a bit of magic to calm her down enough that she could talk. Seeing her so distraught, and being made privy to the greater details of her plight… well, it had opened his eyes. In that moment, it was like nothing else mattered anymore. The nightmares, the demons that had been assailing him for longer than he wanted to remember suddenly just weren’t important anymore.

His parents were dead, and nothing was going to bring them back. Delan’s spirit would ache for them every day, but they would not want him to live trapped under the weight of the torments he’d suffered. The things Kressle had done to him were unspeakable acts that he would never be able to unlive, things that probably would hinder him for years to come, but she was dead. She no longer had power over him, and neither should her memory. Here he was wallowing in sorrow and trapped in his past, while this beautiful, generous woman and her devoted husband were arguing over their future. A future that his companions were currently risking their lives to ensure.

He’d been so selfish.

Delan assured her that he and the rest of the group would not let them down. He promised her that they would not be so easily dispatched, not after facing down a demon and living to talk about it, not with such forces as Shelyn, Erastil, and Calistria to protect and strengthen them. All at once, it was like his vigor for life had returned, like his existence had renewed. Somehow, he’d managed to wrangle the couple back into a room together to speak to one another again. He couldn’t bare to see them at odds with one another, so he made sure they had begun to patch things up.

Then, he’d packed his bags. As he walked in solitude, Delan prayed once more to Shelyn, asking for forgiveness for the fear that he’d allowed to seed in his heart. He knew he needed to rejoin the others, to return to the path that would allow him to spread the glory of her grace and her love, to protect good people like Svetlana and Oleg so they could live without worry of ever having to face the horrors that he had. He asked for guidance, for Shelyn to help him find the ones he should have been with all along, and the goddess was kind enough to not only hear his prayer but to grant it.

A fairy came to him, a beautiful little creature of the fey that expressed she had been sent by Shelyn to aid him in not only finding his friends, but reaching them safely. The fairy cast a spell on him, and the rich scent of roses filled his nostrils. So long as the scent was strong, the fey told him, he would know he was heading in the right direction. Thanking the fairy for her help, and of course thanking Shelyn for answering his pleas, Delan set out at once to track the others down. It took him several days, but he met nothing along the way that he couldn’t handle.

By the time he caught up with them, they were uncovering an overgrown temple that appeared to belong to Erastil. It was in a state of disrepair with vines and moss growing over nearly ever surface, and a number of pillars and walls toppled from time left unattended. Delan made sure to approach noisily, so they would hear and see him coming. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally surprise them and get a blade to the stomach for his efforts. Or worse.

“It’s me,” Delan told them, approaching slowly until he was sure they realized who it was. He probably looked a little different. A trimmed but thick beard had grown around his jaw since the time they’d last seen one another, and he’d also lost quite a bit of weight. His cheeks were gaunt, his flesh a bit pale from weeks spent in mental and emotional turmoil, and it would be easy to tell just by looking at him that he’d been crying an awful lot lately. Despite this, however, he seemed happier than they’d have ever seen him before, light a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Delan smiled at them a bit bashfully, knowing how bizarre it probably looked for him to have tracked them down to the literal middle of nowhere.

Scratching his head a bit awkward as he approached them, he asked, “I don’t suppose you guys are interested in having another body tagging along again..?” For all he knew they were enjoying the lack of his presence, though after all this time that honestly would have surprised him. They were friendly people, even if a few of them got into a lot of disagreements with one another fairly often. Still, he preferred not to assume anything.

Well, this was an awkward space to be fighting in. Delan decided it would be best for him to hang back and focus on spellwork this battle, instead of trying to swing his sword around in Kobold sized rooms. Letting the other's take the fore, Delan hung back with Lyra. Letting her keep an eye on their backs and assuming she would say something if they were set upon on the rear, he continued to sing courage to his comrades.

However, over the chaos he heard Tartuk's voice. It wasn't coming from where Delan could see the Kobold. Moira heard it as well, calling the alarm. Unsure where the voice was coming from, or what was going to happen from it, he quickly and carefully cast a spell to erect a magical shield around himself for extra protection. Then, with his sword raised defensively, he tried to see if he could pinpoint where the voice was coming from.

Ooc: defentively casting cleric domain spell Shield, grants +4 AC.

Delan watched and waited as Shezen shattered the statue, alert for something to happen as a result. Thankfully, nothing did. Delan wouldn't hesitate to nod along with the others. "Absolutely." He'd already had to deal with his own tyrants slaughtering his family and subjugating him.

He'd be damned if he sat by and let the same horrible things happen to others.

There was little that Delan could say outside of what had already been said. Shezen seemed concerned about how to move forward. It was obvious that she cared for her people, and was worried for their safety and about confronting Tartuk.

Finally, he rested a gentle hand on the young Kobold's shoulder. Looking her in the eye, he told her, "The most important thing is for you to do what you believe is best for your people. Whatever will keep them safe. We will follow your lead. If you say Tartuk needs to be captured or killed, then we will make sure that happens to the best of our abilities... but your people deserve better than to be lied to and treated like scummer."

He'd meant it when he told Vetra he'd do whatever he could to help her and her people. She'd saved his life and been more than enough proof that Kobolds were more than what their reputations would lead one to believe. It was going to be exceptionally difficult, but he admired her desire to create a kingdom where all races would be welcome and treated equally.

"As Miss Rosasaria said, there is a possibility that he may try to use our presence to discredit you and keep the rest of your clan from believing you. All we can do is our best to prove him wrong, should he try. You just do what you know is right, even if we're the only ones supporting you. Okay?"

“Oof!”

Delan made a rather comical noise in surprise as he quite suddenly found himself face to face with Moira, who’d grasped him by the shirt and pulled him up to her. His emerald eyes were wide in shock, the gesture having -- at least temporarily -- shaken the self disappointment from him. He didn’t fight the action. He knew Moira wasn’t trying to hurt him. Or maybe it was just instinct to keep as still as possible when the arguably strongest person in their group was behaving wildly.

“You’re right, it’s quite insane,” he hurriedly agreed. Moira set him back down and a star struck expression washed over her face. Despite everything, Delan found himself slowly sinking into a grin of his own. Flying wasn’t so big a phenomenon to him, as there were plenty of spells that would allow people to fly. However, he had forgotten that Moira wasn’t accustomed to arcane happenings. As a bard and a cleric, he had very quickly been desensitized to what non-magic users might not consider normal. But for Moira, such things were still very much a novelty.

He chuckled and gave her a friendly pat on the back. “Flying may not be all of what’s happened to you,” the half elf advised her. “I’m not sure about you guys, but when I touched the feather I was studying, it felt like…” Delan frowned for a moment, searching for the right words to describe the sensation. “It felt like my body… I don’t know… expanded? There’s no telling what kind of effects the power of those feathers might have put on us. We’ll have to do some studying and some testing to see what else may have happened, I’d wager.”

Delan opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the ceiling inside the tent. Weird. He didn’t remember going to sleep. He recalled very little of the dreams he’d had while he was unconscious, only fleeting visuals that drifted further away from memory as wakefulness embraced him in full. His body felt like it weighed a ton, and it ached lightly as though he’d been struck by something. He was also starving.

With a slight grunt, he slowly dragged himself into a sitting position and shook his head a little to try and clear it. The elf took a look around. He was not alone in the tent: Domitan and Lyra were there sleeping, and there were several other now empty bedrolls laying with them inside. Frowning, Delan moved to push himself up and stopped when he felt something between his fingers. Lifting his hand up, he found the phoenix quill.

Like another jolt of energy, the memories flooded back to him. The elf sighed and rubbed his forehead. “That’s what you get for touching powerful things you don’t understand,” he chastised himself softly. He would be sure to take the lesson to heart; next time, he might not live to learn from such a mistake. The cleric took a moment to send a quick prayer of thanks to Shelyn for keeping him safe and protecting him in spite of his own idiocy. Tucking the quill away on his person, Delan dragged himself out of the roll quietly so as not to disturb the two still sleeping, and made his way outside where the others were.

Rolled in discord: Cooking (12)

He was hungry enough that he didn’t care to make anything lavish. Eating sooner was preferable to cooking something that would blow everyone’s minds. Delan quickly put a meal together, enough to help satiate those who were already awake and that there would still be plenty for when Domitan awoke. He didn’t say much of anything as he cooked. The truth was he was a bit embarrassed and ashamed of himself. Sure he hadn’t gone sprinting over to the phoenix feathers like a child loosed in a market with a bag full of gold, but he had still been careless. From the feel of things, he’d been asleep for a couple days.

Eating as much as he could stand of the subpar meal, Delan quietly listened to the idle chatter between Rosa and Mehaila. Moira was nowhere to be seen, but she returned after a while with an announcement that she could fly. Curious. He frowned for a moment in thought, and then recalled what had happened to him when he’d touched his feather: How the wings of light and fire had sprouted from his back and lifted him into the air. “Most likely an effect from the phoenix feathers,” he advised her academically. Shaking his head softly, he told all those present, “We are lucky. Touching items of magical origins and immense power without knowing what may happen… well, it could have had fatal results. Do we know how many days we’ve been out, or who got us all into the tents and watched us while we were unconscious?”

Delan felt quite firm on the opinion that he owed an apology to those who had not been fool enough to touch the things.

Now that I'm done dying...
Discord: Kn. Arcane (16)

The phoenix was a splendid creature. There were no words proper enough in any language to describe the sensation of seeing one with one’s own eyes. Delan could see the air rippling around the creature from the heat it was giving off as it circled their group in the sky. He drew in a breath. What great blessing is this, he wondered? To not just see a phoenix but have it so gracefully acknowledge them was a boon indeed. He had no fear of the beautiful animal, as Delan knew that phoenixes only ever threatened evil beings. Still, to see one was such a rarity he couldn’t help but stare in wonder.

His eyes grew larger as he watched the embers fall to bring impossible life to the ground where they stood. Flowers and trees leaped into growth, quickly turning the area into a beautiful glenn. The pyre they had made for the fallen Kobolds was snuffed up instantly, including the hides, and along with a literal tornado of fire came a most peculiar phenomenon. He felt a mild itching in a few randomly places on his body. Lifting an arm to check one such spot, he witnessed a long healed scar smoothing itself into fresh, unblemished skin. He didn’t have many scars, nor ones of note; just a few here and there from being an active child and traveling with merchants that were often attacked on the road. In truth, his biggest scars were emotional ones.

And those weren’t within the power of a phoenix to heal.

Still, it was an experience he’d never forget. Even Lyra’s read hair had completely grown back. As the great creature flew away, a handful of its feathers dropped to the ground. Most of the others eagerly jumped to their feet and ran out to collect some of them. Delan himself knelt slowly next to the nearest one to him and inspected it with care. He was trying to recall any and all information he knew about phoenixes. The bard was naturally wary of touching anything born of great magic, but he couldn’t think of any reason that these feathers would hurt them. Beasts of insurmountable magic power though they were, a phoenix was a being of pure good.

Everything happened before he could have time to process what was going on with his comrades. So focused was he on studying the item, he didn’t notice almost all of them fall unconscious one by one. Delan reached out and stroked two fingers along the feather, flipping it over with the intent of inspecting it further for any arcane properties. The feather had other ideas.

As soon as his fingers touched it, energy jolted into him like a great bolt of lightning. A very odd pain exploded in his body, lighting every fiber of his being on fire. It hurt like hell, but more shocking than anything else. Even though his body remained the same in proportion, it felt like his joints and bones were expanding, almost as if he was going through some kind of growth spurt. His body felt like it was… making room. For what, couldn’t comprehend in that moment. He was too busy being swallowed by pain.

The quill in his fingers began to disintegrate, and as it did jets of light as bright as those from the phoenix itself streamed from his back between his shoulder blades. The intense rays took on the form of wings, the span of which was nearly thirty feet long -- big enough that, had they been real, they might very well have been enough to hold his weight in the air. In fact, his body did slowly begin to rise off the ground while the wings of light spread and stretched from behind him. Delan opened his mouth to gasp in panic, and found his voice drowned out by yet more light that emanated from his maw as soon as he opened it. This light didn’t hurt or keep him from breathing; it actually gave him a sensation reminiscent to pure, fresh honey dripping delectably down his throat.

The last thing he remembered experiencing was a tremendous clap of thunder that made no sound, but his body shook and trembled as sonic waves rippled through it. At the same time, he went flying backward as if knocked off his rear. When he landed on his back on the ground, he was completely unconscious, and all that remained of the feather between his fingers was a bare, but whole, quill.

This evening was getting really awkward really quickly. It didn't take long at all before Moira and Mehaila were in quite the argument.

Delan kept his focus on the food, handing it out to those who wanted it while keeping his mouth shut. He understood where Mehaila was coming from. There were an alarming number of elves out there that refused to believe in Drow, that were raised to believe they did not exist. However, Delan was not one of them. His father had made it more than clear to him at a young age that Drow were very real. He taught Delan how to recognize them, taught him about everything he knew regarding their culture and habits. Delan knew just how evil they were. The fact that Rosa and Lyra both had drow blood in them but didn't seem to be even remotely evil, well... that told him all he needed to know about who raised them and the sad nature of their conception.

He didn't like to see them argue, but he knew the more people that joined in the conversation the more likely it was to go on. Plus, there was nothing anyone would be able to say to convince Mehaila otherwise. Instead, he kept an ear to the conversation while turning over what they had explained to him earlier about building a kingdom. Rosa had teased him a bit in friendly fashion, while inviting him to join them. The question was, did he want to? What else did he have to do? The bandits had stolen his life from him. What kind of future awaited him, now? He was giving the offer serious thought, not jumping right into a commitment over it.

The fact that they were willing for him to be a part of this kind of grand undertaking, however, spoke volumes to how much they already trusted him. Or at least liked his cooking. He smirked to himself at his own inner joke. When there was a break in the argument, he told Rosa, "Maybe..." He spoke to her mostly because she'd been the one to extend the official invitation, but anyone would be able to hear him. "I don't have anywhere to go, anymore. It would be nice to once again be among a group of people that I like, and respect. That don't scare or threaten or hurt me."

He bit his lip a moment in thought before quietly telling them, "But I do have a duty I need to take care of, something that needs to be a priority for me: My father was from Kyonin. He left long before I was born, but still traveled back occasionally and had some friends and family there. It's my responsibility to let them know he was murdered, and that those who killed him followed my parents into the grave. I'd like to do the same for my mother's family as well, but I don't really know anything about them. The only thing I know about her past is the region where she was born and raised, so contacting anyone that might care to know about her death is more of a pipe dream than anything else. Still, I would like to meet with my dad's loved ones from Kyonin and tell them what happened. They deserve to know."

"As long as I can make some time to do my final duty as their son, and as long as we eradicate the bandits that orchestrated their deaths... then yes, I think I would like to join you."

"She's mentioned wanting to find a home that will be safe for her and her people," Delan told Mehaila, his face still etched with confusion. Had he misunderstood what the Kobold had been telling him, he wondered? Her words had seemed innocent enough at the time. She just wanted a safe haven for her and her loved ones. He assumed she'd meant to find a place that would accept them, or to find a place of their own, but he clearly hadn't grasped the gravity of what she'd actually been trying to say. "No one's said anything about establishing a nation..."

Lyra had gotten up and left for a moment, only to return with a very official looking scroll. The woman read the notice aloud for him to hear, and he listened to every word in attentive silence. By the time she finished, it took him a few long seconds to process everything. "And here I thought you guys were just trying to tackle a bandit problem," he joked, though there was enough truth in the comment to convey that he wasn't really taking the revelation as lightly as his words might suggest.

He scratched his cheek idly. "You guys certainly have quite the task before you, I must say," he finally offered, not sure what else to say. This was not what he'd expected, and it left him with a lot more questions. One thing the others would understand clearly by his demeanor was he understood this was their endeavor, not his. He assumed he would be with them until the bandits were taken out, and then after that would be sent on his way. He wasn't someone who'd be charged with this task by the powers that be, though Lyra seemed pretty adamant that once they established a nation they weren't going to hand the keys over to anyone else. He admired that.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit in shock. I'm not really certain how to react to that. Is it permissible for me to even be traveling with you guys? I'm not signed to anything, and I would hate to repay all your kindness by my presence getting you in trouble with those who charged you with all this..."

Rolled in discord: Cooking (26)

Lyra returned the gems to the cave and sealed up the entrance, a feat which admittedly brought a bit of relief to him. He was thrilled that they found the place certainly, but there was something unsettling about having your hands on that much of value. In a single fist sized gem, he'd seen more gold than he'd seen in his entire life working trade. He could only imagine what his parents would have done about the find.

But then the situation shifted. Lyra asked a question that greatly confused him, though it didn't show on his face right away. What did she mean by what kind of settlement they'd want to build? He kept quiet and listened to everyone without interruption as he set up and began to cook dinner for the group. Even as Lyra shocked him by expressing quite a bit of anger toward Mehaila for some previous comments she'd made, he just kept listening in the hopes that eventually their words would give him understanding without him having to ask.

But the more they talked, the more confused he got and it showed on his face. Monarchies? Establishing countries? Who the hell were these people really, and what had he gotten caught up in? He'd come along to kill bandits. No one had said anything to him about establishing an entire nation, and they were speaking about the matter so casually and matter of factually. When he found an opening during the back and forth between Lyra and Mehaila, he cleared his throat a little to get their attention. "Forgive me," he told them for interrupting. "But what... what exactly are you guys talking about?"

A part of him was secretly pleased by the knowledge that these people had accepted him so fully that they seemed to have forgotten he hadn't always been there with them, and thus hadn't realized that he wasn't fully aware of everything they'd been tasked to do. But mostly he was just confused and a bit taken back by the things they were discussing and the plans they were making.

Rolled in Discord: Kn. History (28), Kn. Arcane (25)

Delan raised an interested brow when Moira returned to the surface of the water. "Mithril?" he asked, more to himself than her -- she was too busy forcing affection on Lyra in any case, not that Delan seemed to notice the awkwardness of that exchange. He was too busy thinking.

"I don't think we're going to be able to sell these gems," he admitted to the others. "These two alone are worth several million gold. Even if we have merchants that would be willing to work with us fairly, none of them are going to have that much money. But the mithril... that we could work with. It would still give us more than enough funding, and wouldn't paint as large of a target on our backs. Plus it's something that merchants would be able to afford to buy. For now, we may want to find a way to mark and seal off the entrance so no one else finds it after us, and then come back later when we have time and a solid plan of action for it."

It was hard to say. He was in as much awe as Lyra and Moira were. A Wondrumm Umgor! The trader and the spellcaster in him both were itching to do as Moira had done and strip down to take a dive, maybe study the magic of it a bit. But they simply didn't have time right now. Vetra had made a time sensitive deal with the Kobolds, and they had bandits to deal with. As wonderful as this was, it was not as important to him as avenging his family's deaths...

Rolled in discord: Appraise (30)

Delan watched as Rosa dropped tiny but beautiful spheres of light down into the water, while Lyra prepared for whatever plan she had to go take a look. After a few minutes, nothing in the water stirred to investigate the shining orbs. "Well, it doesn't seem to be dangerous so far," he said, though his tone was still reasonably wary. Better safe than sorry.

"That's a neat trick," Delan commented with interest as Lyra temporarily spelled herself into the form a sea elf. Able to breathe underwater, she went down and all they could do was wait and watch from the surface. When she shot up later and started babbling incoherent sentences, he knew she'd seen something beyond exciting. Now his curiosity was in overdrive. Down she went again, this time coming back up with evidence of what she'd found.

Eying them keenly, Delan knelt next to the shore in deep thought while the others spoke around him. They'd just stumbled on something even better than a gold mine. It was exciting, yes, but a lifetime of being a merchant and trader had shaped him to greet such finds with a different approach. "If we're going to do this, we need to do it carefully," he told them slowly, his mind still churning gears over the situation. "Carrying around that kind of worth is beyond dangerous. As long as no one knows we have it then we don't have to worry as much, but once you start spending it people take notice and that's never good. I think we should do what we can to gather as much of it as possible, but we'd need to approach selling them very carefully. In fact, we probably don't even want to try selling them all in one spot."

He lightly scratched his cheek as he pondered. "My parents were the ones who did the direct trading, but I still know of a few of their merchant contacts that might be willing to work with me fairly. If we keep to just selling one or two at a time to different people and put the vast majority of it somewhere secure like with a bank or in a personal vault, that would be our safest option." Looking toward Lyra, Delan asked, "How much more was down there?"

He didn't even notice Moira stripping down. It was only the splash of the water as she dove in that drew his attention. He blinked at her and then smiled, pleased at her excitement despite his caution over the matter.

Rolled in discord: Perception (37)

Finally, they'd had a peaceful night. Everyone was able to get a bit of rest without interruption, and the next day dawned brightly. After a bit of travel they were finally able to get out of the forest and even onto land that wasn't still damp and muddy from the previous day's thunderstorm.

They stopped at a pond toward the end of the day as the sun's light began to fade. Leading his horse to the water, he let the beast drink as he got down and had a handful or two himself. The water tasted a bit sharp, but at least it was clean. He wouldn't have looked past that if it hadn't been for Rosa speaking up next to him, pointing at the water.

Turning his head, Delan looked where she was indicating. Sure enough, there was something shimmering deep below. "It looks like gold," he said, leaning to try and get a better look through the ripples in the water. "Or at least, it's gold in color. Looks like it's right up against the side of the tor down there. It's pretty deep, though." He wouldn't be able to reach it outside of the water, even with his longspear. The pond was deep enough they couldn't even see the bottom of it. If they wanted to know what it was, they'd have to go under water.

"Anyone curious enough to take a dive?" he asked candidly. It could be something of interest or value, but it could equally be something dangerous. He knew first hand that some of the worst dangers in nature were clothed in bright, fascinating, and alluring colors.

The rain dripped on him through the boughs of the trees around him without letup. In fact, it seemed to pick up a bit. He didn’t really care too much in that moment. The weather merely mirrored his heartbreak and sense of loss. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there weeping, though it had been only a few minutes when the tears finally started to slow. His breath came in low and ragged as he tried to calm himself down. By the time Vetra came out and approached him, his crying had been reduced to jagged sniffles.

He didn’t look up at her right away when her scaled hand rested itself on his head. Neither did he speak at first, still trying to get his breathing entirely under control. The simple touch did help to calm him, however. “You’re welcome,” Delan finally told her softly. Breathing in deep, he let out a slow sigh and his lungs relaxed at last. He tilted his head back until it rested against the outer wall of the cave. There was a small smile on his face, though it was a sad one.

“I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to do that,” the half elf admitted regarding his crying. The smile faded a bit as he sobered once more. He was staring up at the treeline, his mind drifting in that memory. “I never got the chance to before. I was never alone at that camp to have a moment to grieve, not even once. After so many months I’d become numb to it. Even after you guys got me out, it seemed like the time for being able to do so had simply passed already.”

Shaking himself of the thoughts, he turned to look at Vetra with a slight frown of curiosity as though enlightenment had just dawned on him. “Did you breathe fire?” he asked, his tone adding emphasis on the last word to convey just how impressed and fascinated he was by what he’d witnessed during the grig fight.

Delan wouldn’t get the chance to use his weapon. By the time he’d healed Vetra and turned, the creatures had all been slain one way or another. Most of them were straight up melted, though one had been dismembered. He gripped his rapier hard, his hand shaking a little as he fought back the bloody images of the last time he’d seen his parents.

Forcing himself to try and think about anything else, he turned to take stock of the group. There were a few injuries, though none as heavy as Vetra’s. Lifting his free hand in the air, a bracelet caught the light Rosa had given them after the fire went out. A small silver charm hung from the item, bearing the symbol of Shelyn on it. Whispering, he said, “Blessed goddess, I thank you. Lend me your power once again, that I may tend these courageous wounded.” Energy once again swept from him, this time in a small circle around him that would reach all those in their party that might need it.

Channel Energy: 20 hp

When that was finished, Delan still stood a bit shakily. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight what was coming, and he didn’t want to, but he would do it in some state of privacy. Glancing around once more to make sure the others were okay, he quietly told them, “I need to step outside for a moment. I'll be right around the corner.” His voice was even, but his eyes told a different story.

Without any other explanation, he walked out of the cave and turned. He didn’t go far, only to a spot on the outside of Lyra’s hand crafted cave where he could lean against its wall out of view of the group. Sliding to the ground, he set his sword down next to him. One knee tucked itself against his chest while both hands rose to his face, his fingers laced into his hair. Then, he finally gave way to the tears that he’d not been able to shed for his family, the sobs coming at last in a steady, quiet stream.

Rolled in Discord: Concentration (27) vs DC 19

Well, everyone was awake and moving now, that was for damn sure. He had alerted everyone to the nature of the danger and what would work best offensively. Now, he needed to do his duty as a cleric and take care of his comrades. Domitan already was healing his own wound. Both Vetra and Moira had been hurt right next to him, and that was something he simply would not abide. Vetra herself looked like she’d been stabbed pretty hard, hard enough that she friggin’ spat fire out of her mouth. Could Kobolds do that?! Delan blinked at her for a second in shock before quickly stuffing the surprise down. He could wonder about that later.

But even as everything unfolded, the gold scaled Kobold was struck again. Before his very eyes, the grig that had first attacked Vetra landed another brutal blow right across the throat. Blood splattered violently from her, some of it splashing onto his own body. He felt the warmth of it, and it triggered something in him. In his mind he saw his parents again. Their deaths were burned into his memories. Like now, he had been splashed in their blood as the bandits hacked their bodies to pieces, while he could only watch. He could still hear them shrieking in agony. And now, after he’d finally been freed of Kressle’s tyranny and found people that seemed to want him as a friend and not just a tool, the very one that had first stepped up to give him an opportunity to live once more was being slaughtered in front of him.

Not this time.

His mind sank into a cool, calculating focus that was a stark contradiction to the emotions that raged inside of him like an inferno. Deftly, keeping an eye on the grigs nearby to make sure his actions wouldn’t give them an opening, he reached out and placed a hand on the deathly injured Kobold. “Shelyn, bless her and be glorified!” he prayed aloud. From his hand a surge of healing magic sparked to life and jolted itself into Vetra where it sought to reverse the mortal wound on her throat.

When the spell was done, Delan withdrew his rapier and looked at the grig with eyes as cold and hard as the steel in his hand.

Defensively Casting Cure Moderate (Cleric) on Vetra for 20hp healing

Rolled in discord: Kn. Nature (26)

After a time speaking with Vetra and Moira, he was starting to snooze when Mehaila’s voice woke him up. He barely had time to process that she’d seen something of concern when the fire suddenly snuffed out. In a split second, three of their comrades were injured. In a flash (almost literally) light flooded the area again from Rosa. He swore in surprise and frustration, his mind working quickly to assess the situation and what they were up against. Insect like bodies with elvish torsos… and the blood on their claws. Was it frozen already? His green eyes widened. “Dark Ice Grigs!” Delan told the group. “Use fire if you can!”

Delan enjoyed a great many things in his life, but there were few things he liked more than learning new things. One could consider him an anthropologist of sorts. He took time to study as much as he could everywhere he traveled about different people, places, cultures, histories. He was fascinated by these things, soaking up knowledge in bucketloads. However, the half elf certainly didn’t come close to knowing everything there was to know. The differences that Vetra described between herself and her kin were nothing he’d ever come across or even heard so much as a rumor of before. She was even able to demonstrate some of what she explained to him, dipping her hand into their campfire longer than the average humanoid creature could normally withstand.

He hummed thoughtfully to himself, a hand raising to rub his cheek. Moira approached and he nodded to her, gesturing for her to join them by the warm flames. To Vetra he said, “I can see how that could be frustrating. Even frightening, not understand what is going on with your own body. I’ve spent time with a lot of different people from different backgrounds through my life, but not much time with Kobolds I’m afraid. I don’t know as much about your people and culture as I’d like to.”

Running his fingers through his hair to pull it back from his face, he continued with a quiet, sober voice. “I am not so certain of my own self, admittedly. Of this particular path with the rest of you, yes. This needs to be done and I’ll not hesitate to take the life of every bandit in that camp myself if I must. However…” His words trailed off while Delan watched the campfire dance. “I didn’t expect to escape them. I was going to die in that camp, one way or another. I’m not sure I’ve really processed it yet. I keep thinking I might wake up one morning and all of you will have just been the product of a desperate dream, and I’m still stuck in that hell.”

He sighed and shook his head ruefully, smirking at his own folly. ” I doubt any of my dreams would involve something so painfully realistic as that lightning storm, however. Miss Vetra, it’s possible you may have a rough road ahead of you to figure out what is happening with yourself. But if a friend is what you need to help get you through it, I’ll do the best I can. I haven’t known any of you for more than a few days, but this group is all I have right now and you’re the only people to have reminded me that kindness and compassion still exist. Shelyn crossed our paths for a reason. I would like to reach the point that you can consider me a friend. All of you.”

The added comment was directed toward Moira, whom he glanced to so she would understand. He did not want her to feel left out of the conversation. When she thanked him for the food, he told her, “You’re quite welcome. I hope it fills you, even if it’s not up to my usual standards as far as taste…” He was a little disheartened that he couldn’t give everyone a better meal after the experience they all just went through together, but it seemed no one minded just now. Everyone’s thoughts were on more important things.

The warrior asked about the horse she’d been riding, and Delan glanced over to it. “No. It’s a beautiful creature, but not mine. Mine is the grullo over there, Cojiro.” He pointed to the horse that was a deep silvery grey color, with a dark muzzle and black mane, tail, and socks. “He was the only thing I was able to keep after the bandits attacked us, because even they knew the worth of keeping a good horse around. The one you’re riding looks familiar, but I’m sorry I don’t know his name. I spent as little time talking to the people at the camp as I could get away with…” He did seem genuinely sorry that he didn’t have a name to offer her. “Lyra would be your best bet to trying to find out. Otherwise, you could try to train him to respond to a new name if you’d like. It’s hard to do with horses, but not impossible. Are you feeling well? You seemed to be in a bit of a daze after everything.”

It took her a few minutes to respond, not that Delan expected her to do so. When she did, Vetra thanked him. The Kobold put a hand on his arm for emphasis, and he smiled at her. It was the first time he'd truly smiled in months. The fact that he even remembered how to do so was a miracle, but he was in much better company now than he was before. Safer company, with people that would treat him fairly and sought to protect those being oppressed like he had been.

Another round of comfortable silence fell between them. He quietly hummed one of his favorite elvish melodies as they worked on the meal. After a moment, she spoke again and opened up more about some of the things that were on her mind. Delan listened attentively while she did, so as not to discourage her.

He waited a bit longer when she finished to make sure she didn't have more to say, only to hear her grumbling stomach. The half elf chuckled a little in amusement at the sound, then turned back to the discussion at hand. "It has certainly been an... odd past few days. Many things both wondrous and frightening have taken place that I don't think any of us could have expected. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm curious to see what answers unravel to explain it all. As to the matter of your blood... My inclination at first was to express a sentiment that being different from other Kobolds doesn't define you, but on further consideration I'm sensing that's not the issue here. What do you mean when you say that something is changing about yourself?" He glanced up at her again, sitting back and relaxing with his bowl of food. "Do you mean physically? Something that is not normal for Kobolds? Outside of your sun scales, of course."

Was she dancing around a specific topic that she wasn't sure how to bring up, or was she merely discussing a vague feeling deep inside her that she hadn't quite been able to pinpoint yet? Either way, he had been around the group long enough to know that she had pretty much kept to herself at all times, and he was not going to disrespect her desire to try and talk to someone about personal things that might be bothering her. She needed a friend, as she herself said, and that was certainly something Delan could be.

Rolled in Discord: Cooking (12)

Rosa and Vetra both protested the need for any aid. They didn't appear to be harmed like Lyra had, but one could never be certain. Rosa explained what she had seen, things Delan himself hadn't witnessed since he'd been too caught up in trying to calm Cojiro. He frowned lightly in worry and thought as she spoke, turning her story over in his mind and trying to make sense of it. She could only speak about it so much before the shock wore off enough to let her emotions truly catch up with her.

He didn't hesitate to act. She swayed unsteadily as she gave way to the tears, relying on her staff to keep her standing. If she permitted him, he'd gently pull her into a firm hug. "You don't have to apologize, miss. Let it out." How many times had he wished he'd been able to do just this? Let his emotions release themselves over what he'd endured? For a brief moment his mind lingered on the fact that he had not been allowed time to grieve his own family, savagely murdered before his very eyes. That pain was still there, but it was numb. He hadn't been able to cry for them yet, though he'd desperately wanted to. Instead, he'd had to spend the last several months pushing past the grief and trauma just to survive. In that moment, seeing Rosa react how he could not, he realized how heavily those losses still weighed on him.

While she let herself cry, whether in his arms or not, he kept his eyes on Vetra and listened to her. "She'll need long term healing to fully recuperate, I think. She had electricity still coursing through her body and it refused to leave her no matter what we tried. Thankfully, Moira noticed something odd about Lyra's staff that suggested it might help. We were able to clear her body, and Mehaila immediately poured every amount of healing energy she had into her. She looks much better, but we'll keep an eye on her for a while."

Vetra expressed some doubts in herself and her present course. Delan frowned a little, but did not interrupt her as she spoke. When she deflected the conversation back to Lyra, and stated her request for Delan to help the woman he nodded. "You have my word as a Cleric of Shelyn that I will do everything in my power to make sure she recovers." She asked how she could help, and Delan gave it some thought. "I think some food would do us all some good. Would you mind helping me get dinner started? I think Lyra and Mehaila in particular will need it soon."

He looked down at Rosa, setting his hands on either side of her arms to steady her in front of him. "Your sister is up. Why don't you go see to her?" he suggested kindly, knowing that Lyra would be best suited to comforting Rosa. Then, he beckoned for Vetra to follow him back over to the camp and the firewood he'd gathered earlier.

He was silent for a minute or two as they started working on building the fire and getting things set out for cooking. Then, he softly told her, "I can understand your insecurity. You're the only one who knows what is best for you, and if you think this path is the wrong one I would never try to tell you otherwise." He glanced up at her then, his eyes steady on her own. "But what I can tell you is that if it weren't for all of you intervening when you did, and for you in particular giving me a second chance... I would either be dead right now, or stuck in a situation worse than death."

He was silent for a moment longer, letting his words sink in as he held her gaze with eyes that would never be able to unsee the horrid things he'd experienced while he was prisoner to the bandits. "You may be uncertain, but I am grateful you are here. You're helping to eradicate a group that not only tortured me personally for months and ripped my life and dignity away, but did so to countless others before me as well. You are a good person, and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise."

He started working on dinner. It likely wasn't going to be the best meal he'd made so far, as he along with everyone else was still a bit spooked from everything that had just happened, but it would do to nourish everyone and that was more important for the moment.

The energy played along his flesh, causing his own muscles to twitch and spasm -- albeit not as violently as Lyra's. Still, he maintained his hold, refusing to let it keep him from trying to help the woman. Unfortunately, it wasn't doing any good. The electricity danced onto the copper but not into the ground, stubbornly clinging to her. Wherever this energy had come from, it was not natural.

Thankfully, his action did pay off somewhere. Moira noticed that the pulsing of the energy matched the rhythm of the glow Delan had noted earlier in Lyra's staff. The warrior quickly brought the item over and held it down between himself and Rosa, where both could see the connection. "Worth a shot," he said, his tone eager for anything that would work. He kept Lyra grounded just in case while Rosa took the item and pressed it against her sister's flesh. Before their eyes, the energy begrudgingly sloughed itself into the staff, but not without its toll.

Lyra's body tensed all the more and she screamed. Delan's grip on her hand tightened, and he spoke encouragingly to her to try and keep her holding on until the process was finished. Immediately after the energy was gone, Mehaila set straight to working her healings. Delan stepped back, taking his piece of copper with him. Without looking to see if it had been damaged beyond use, he slipped it back into the satchel for now. Mehaila and Domitan seemed to have Lyra well in hand, so he would see to everyone else.

Since Moira was the closest, he stopped next to her first and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Keen eyes on that staff," he told her. "You did well to bring that to attention." Without Moira's help, they might very well still be fighting to save Lyra's life. He was grateful for the insight she'd provided. At Mehaila's request and Lyra's direction, he went to Lyra's saddle and withdrew the desired garments and brought them over. Then, he moved to the other two party members that hadn't been addressed yet.

"Miss Vetra, Miss Rosa... Are you two injured at all? Do you need anything?" The tone of his second question would convey that he wasn't necessarily just asking about physical ailments. Rosa in particular was likely to have been traumatized by this event. Emerald eyes looked first at the alchemist and then at the fighter, lingering on each of them long enough to assure them that they both had his complete and undivided attention. There was a visible trace of worry in his eyes for both ladies. "You were all dangerously close to that lightning strike. What happened? What can I do to help you?"

In discord: Kn Nature (25), Perception (28)

What the hell just happened..?

One minute Delan had been fruitlessly trying to calm down his horse, and then everything exploded. Literally. He’d barely had enough time to process Domitan’s arrival and his inquiry about Lyra when the lightning struck. Once again Delan swore loudly. That bolt had been insanely close! Light and heat surged near them. It wasn’t enough to blind him but the sonic boom had stripped him of hearing immediately.

Completely forgetting about his struggle with Cojiro, the half elf clapped his hands to his ringing ears. He looked at Moira and Dom to see if they were okay, and then Rosa’s voice screaming his name, among a couple others, drew his attention to the others.

Without thought Delan bolted into a sprint to get to where they were. He stopped once he got there to quickly assess the situation. It was bad. Lyra was charred like she’d gotten hit directly. Rosa and Mehaila were trying to get to her to help her, but Shirak was having none of it. A faint glow caught his eye from her saddle, and he noticed Lyra’s staff was emitting a bit of light. He looked at Lyra again, really looking at her. She was alive. More than that, she was conscious… but the electricity was still jumping through her body. Mehaila couldn’t even try to heal her without getting a zap big enough to break her concentration.

They needed to get that electricity discharged. Rosa spoke to her sister, and Lyra managed to coax Shirak into calming down. Delan had already approached and knelt next to Lyra and Mehaila. He was digging hurriedly through the satchel that held his components for spell work. “We need copper,” he told the others. “We need to clear her body of electricity before we can heal her, and copper works best.” He was speaking calmly, but there was an obvious tension in his voice. He was doing his very best to stay under control -- he could freak out after their comrade was properly stabilized.

Pulling out the biggest piece of copper filing he had in his bag, he stabbed one end of it into the dirt near Lyra’s hand -- the one that wasn’t petting her tiger. Hopefully it would be enough, or hopefully some of the other mages would have enough to help with what he was trying to do. There was no telling how much they’d need to do this properly. “Shelyn, please let this work…” Once the copper was set in the ground, he took Lyra’s free hand. He had noticed earlier when Mehaila had tried to heal her that it zapped the woman but didn’t seem to inflict any real hurt on her. He took Lyra’s hand, doing his best to ignore the zapping from it, and wrapped her fingers around the copper.

Rolled in discord: Survival for firewood/kindling (29)

Moira reached a hand out to offer him to ride with her, but after a final glance upward at the brewing storm he shook his head gently. "Thank you, but I should take Cojiro myself. It wouldn't be fair to him to wander away in unnerving weather like this." His horse was the only kindness his his life during his time with the bandits, and had kept much of Delan's mind off of his experiences there. He had bonded with the creature, and would feel beyond guilty leaving him for others to mind in a situation like this.

Taking hold of his horse's reigns he followed close to Moira, unaware that the human woman was pondering idly on his scent and what others might consider his more effeminate skills. If he had, Delan might have chuckled and teasingly agreed with the thought. Instead, he kept focused on their surroundings and helping her find a suitable location to camp, all the while doing his best to keep the mount calm and steady.

Once a place had been found, he dismounted Cojiro and tied the horse off next to Moira's. It wasn't the most ideal location, but it was the best shot they had. He quickly did as she instructed and gathered up as much dry firewood and kindling as he could get his hands on, placing it as deep inside the overhang as he could to prevent it from getting wet when the rain started.

He was about to start helping Moira with expanding their makeshift shelter a bit more when he heard the lightning spook his horse. Delan swore quiet fluently in a number of languages, starting with Dwarven -- which was his go to for swear words -- and devolving into other tongues he'd used so often he didn't even think about it. As he did, he flung himself over to his mount as the horse fought its ties, just barely missing the reigns.

Before the horse could take off, Delan instinctively drew upon his powers. The magic settled on top of the beast like a warm, heavy blanket. "Whoa, boy. It's alright, I'm right here. Breathe, Cojiro, there's a good lad..." He spoke in a low, soothing voice, doing his best to coax the gelding into the effects of the spell.

Casting Calm Emotions on the horse

Rolled in Discord: Perception (25), Survival (24) and Kn. Geography (17)

The half elf said nothing more as the party continued on. In truth, the drama that unfolded made him quite uncomfortable, but what could he do? He had not been traveling with these people as long as they had been together, and didn't understand their histories with one another. He had no intention of interjecting his own thoughts on the matter, not unless someone specifically asked it of him. Even then, he wouldn't have much to say. Thus, he remained silent.

Instead, he focused his mind on their surrounding and in his mind turned over the description of the beasts the Kobolds had mentioned. To the best of his knowledge, they sounded like Mites. It was not information that would do anyone much good for the moment so he made no mention of it, but later when the time was appropriate he would bring it up with Vetra.

They traveled for quite some time before setting up a camp for the night. Or rather, attempting to. The wind had picked up something fierce, and a nasty chill was beginning to set in his bones. Delan frowned softly at their surroundings. He had spent more than enough time traveling wilderness to recognize the brewing of a nasty storm. The others began to gather items to keep them from blowing away, and Moira spoke up about venturing out to try to find a cave for better shelter.

Delan nodded in agreement with Dom's approval. "If you don't object, I'll come with you. This storm bodes ill, and it's coming in quickly. It would not do for any of us to accidentally be isolated by it, and I can provide a safe means for the others to follow our path so they don't have to waste time waiting for us to return if they need us."

Reaching inside the satchel where he kept materials for spell work, the half elf withdrew a single, surprisingly well preserved rose. Its petals were a delicate shade of pink. Closing his eyes, he took only a few seconds to lift a whispered prayer to Shelyn as he performed his spell. As he did so, he thought of his companions. Specifically, he focused on the things about them that he found beautiful, thoughts that would bring honor to his matron goddess: Lyra's love and attentiveness to her animals companions; Domitan's selflessness in protecting his comrades, and Mehaila's tenderness with everyone in the group. With Vetra he lingered on her passion for her people, while Moira's bravery and conviction shaped her spirit in his mind's eye. Lastly, but certainly not least, he thought of Rosasaria and her constantly reassuring nature within the group.

Casting Trail of the Rose

When all was said and done, if the others were looking at him they would see a small pink mist around the rose, the color of which matched the hue of the petals. The whole spell had taken only a couple seconds to perform, and no one would feel as if magic had been performed on them without their consent since the spell had been cast on the rose, not on them. Opening his eyes, he told his companions, "Only the six of you and myself can see this mist, which will let you know which direction we went if you decide to follow us. It should last for about three hours, but if this storm picks up as quickly as I fear it would be prudent for you to be able to find us unerringly."

He tucked the rose carefully into a buckle on his armor where it would stay secure. Then, he gestured to Moira that he was ready to leave with her. As they walked away, a small trail of the mist would follow in Delan's wake unfettered by the winds. He would tap into his knowledge of geography and wilderness survival as best he could to help Moira try to track down a cave or other such space that would allow them to wait out the storm safely.

Kn. Nature: 14
Kn. Planes 24
Rolled in Discord

The idle chatter between himself and the others dwindled quickly as Vetra's meeting came to an end. Words about a great tree near what was most likely the bandit headquarters caught everyone's attention, but Delan was more focused on the other bit of information they'd given. "A great beast with dozens of legs?" he inquired aloud, more to himself than anyone else.

A slight frown settled on his face. It was a vague description, but one that had him thinking. Creatures of such depiction could be perfectly normal, if rare. So too could they originate outside of the material plane. His blonde hair fell against his cheek as he tilted his head slightly in thought, picking his own brain to see if he could remember anything from his experiences traveling the world, or from his teachings at the temple regarding the planes and their native inhabitants.

As he thought and the others discussed the tree, Vetra returned. She was a bit vexed, though controlling it exceptionally as she expressed a wish for the group to be more mindful of threatening posture while trying to negotiate with Kobolds. Rosa assured her with a desire to help Vetra with the pledge she'd made, and Delan nodded in agreement. "If you'll allow me, I would be honored to assist you with your kin as well. You gave me a chance to let my parents' spirits finally rest, and to fight back against the lawless tyrants that spent months trying to indoctrinate me. Whatever I have to offer, as long as it does not violate my oaths to Shelyn, I shall give it. It is the least I can do."

It wouldn't be hard to interpret his words to mean that he still wasn't entirely sure what the group intended on doing with him once the mess of the bandits was over. However, he also wasn't trying to pry for answers on that subject at the moment. There were more important things to focus on. To Mehaila he said, "I wouldn't worry too much, at least not until we have more information." His melodic voice was kind, clearly empathizing with why she was nervous. "It may not be alive like those vines were. It may just be a respectful term for a very old tree. We won't know for sure until we get there."

Sense Motive 24, rolled in discord

Delan shifted a bit on the back of his horse. The dark silver colored beast snorted softly, as if wondering why they had stopped. Or maybe he just wished Delan had stopped him a little closer to the patch of lush grass that lay a few inches out of reach. The half elf patted Cojiro's neck absentmindedly, his emerald eyes watching the interaction with silent curiosity.

He said nothing as the others discussed among themselves how to best handle the sleeping Kobolds out in the field. The truth was, Delan wasn't entirely certain yet where he fit within the group, or if he even fit with them at all. They treated him well enough, and he would do what he could to assure them over time that he was a man of his word, but that didn't change the fact that he had been a bandit when they met him. Surely, at least a few of them still held suspicion of him. He was not one of these adventurers, only a man with some useful skills and knowledge who had fallen into their laps by chance. Once his part in this was over, they would either release him to his own devices or still kill him for his brief history with the bandits. He was not a decision maker for this group, only an informant, and his fate was very much still in their hands.

So he watched as Vetra, the brightly colored Kobold that had taken the lead in giving him a second chance, made her way over to the other Kobolds to try to parlay with them. He listened along with passive interest, his own understanding of the Draconic language allowing him to keep up with what was being said. So, too, did he listen to the quiet commentary from his companions as they followed along and discussed possible ways to assist Vetra.

It was only when the darker Kobolds overheard Lyra's comment comparing them to squirrels and responded with a threat to eat the woman's breasts that Delan's quiet demeanor cracked. A barely audible snort of laughter blew out of his nostrils before he could stop it, probably not loud enough for the Kobolds to hear though the others standing closer to him would. The Kobolds clearly didn't understand the implications of their threat. He casually lifted a hand to his face to try to wipe the tiny smile from his lips.