Jarl looks a might uncomfortable. "Honestly, the dark pants aren't to mean anything, but to help draw the eyes up to the other colors and pelt. The green represents your connection to nature, and is the second most significant piece, after the pelt, to help show how important that connection is to you. Others may see it as a claim of better self-control, or wisdom accumulated over time, but, misunderstandings are unavoidable." He shrugs with that last comment. "The red waist sash is a solid complementary color to a deep green, and it represents inner strength, also complementing the more common interpretations of the green shirt, by the way. The blue accent should, again, help draw eyes to the pelt, while also representing both youth and health. So, they combine roughly to a healthy young man with a lust for life and an inner strength drawn from his deep connection to nature and the world around him. That work for you?"
Jarl pulls his head back, rising the crown of his head as he frowns slightly. "Very nice piece. Stick with the green shirt and something blue at the neck, but let's change to a red waist sash and some very dark breeches. Help keep the eyes up towards this pelt, more. Very nice." He finises just shaking his head, slowly, more from impact than anything else.
"Well, I still like the idea of the matching red pants. He should probably stick with a deep green close to his heart, which means an orange sash for a belt, and something blue around neck height, I think. Whether the shirt collar or a scarf, or do you have something else that might surprise in that position?"
"No, no, no. If we can get the red pants, it is a marvelous opportunity to both liven things up and have at least partially coordinated outfits as was suggested earlier! Besides, if you can work to accept some Varisian ways, you might be able to soften my parents' opinion of you?"
Jarl smiles, weakly. "I like the idea of the red pants quite a bit, but we were just told they don't have any, and can't get any ready in time for tonight." He turns and looks at the older man. "You never did say what colors you DO have available for tonight."
Jarl shakes his head. "You need to remember that you do things to and for your family more than anyone else. Since nobody's perfect, you WILL do something wrong to or for family eventually. It is unavoidable. You can let it drag you down, or you can find the fun, or the funny, or the opportunity that was created by the error. Take the positive, regardless of how small it might be, and work to celebrate it instead of mourning the error. The positive energy will be returned to you, as will the negative. Do you want the negative energy sapping your mood and will to pursue opportunities? Of course not! So find the positive point to focus on and send positive energy out instead. We're about to help your sister ambush the other nobles, to disarm them of the leverage they want to create. Right?"
"No, red is not traditional for a victory feast. To Varisians, colors have meaning as well as beauty. Red can be used to invoke lust, of course, but it also represents both long life and inner strength. The blue shirt could be read for health, youth, or beauty. And the green scarf at the waist could be read as wisdom and self-control. For my intent, the outfit would display health, inner strength, and self-control, I hope. The viewer is always free to interpret as they will." He shrugs. "We are used to being misunderstood, of course!"
The young Varisian just shakes his head. "I grew up in a good home. OF COURSE I know how to celebrate life! If you don't have a god set of red pants available for tonight, what is ready? We'll work from there."
---
"As for how Corrin dresses, well, he likes dirt, twigs, and blood as his primary accessories. They all tend to show up sooner or later."
---
"Team? Us? Well, based on what we found, we need to go back and make sure the loose ends are secured, but, I don't think we built a team. Did we, Corrin?"
"You are right, of course, about my needing something other than my armor for tonight. A bright scarf for my head, perhaps a pale blue shirt and red breeches, with a long green scarf for a belt?"
He shudders at the recommendation of green and black.
"Corrin's depressing enough without coloring him for it! No black. Maybe a yellow, or even something like a lavender? Brighten him up, and maybe brighten his mood at the same time?"
"Thank you, Zel. I need some fairly strong read and yellow, maybe orange, to restore the streamers from the grip to the tips of the arms on my bow. I also need a very strong material in a bright green, to rewrap the grip on both my bow and blade. A few scarves to adorn the armor wouldn't be bad, either. If I'm going to be a Varisian out saving people, then despite the armor, I should LOOK Varisian, right?"
He's already glancing over the supplies, looking for anything that might catch his eye beyond the basics he just described.
Jarl gets a mischievous grin. "I think Treju would like to see you in tights and an open shirt, but I don't think Ma or Pa would handle it well!" After he giggles to himself for a second, possibly picturing Corrin in the outfit, or his parents' reaction to it, he returns to the concept of shopping. "I need a few good lengths of red and yellow ribbon, and a sturdy green if I'm going to restore the weapons to how I had them. Other colors might work, though."
"Oh, they're fine. Everybody younger than Ma with a partner is pregnant, even. Couldn't get the story out, and not for a lack of trying. After I told them Corrin was part of the group that rescued me, my story about why I needed rescuing was no longer as important as paying attention to him. Only reason we're here is he started making eyes at my younger sister, so Ma and Da sent me back to town to be rid of him!" He just shakes his head, grinning. "I could come along. Need some more ribbon for my bow at least. Got a good shirt and pants while home, anyway. Even if they are a bit loose . . .."
"You can try to pretend to be one of them, or you can be you. If you want to have nicer clothes, then we should walk down to the tailor to see what's available. If you want to be the outdoorsman stopping in town for a bit, then you're good, right?" He might be offering to walk you to the tailor. Didn't say.
"I think you know this already, but . . .. I don't WANT the nobles in my debt. I simply want Sandpoint to be a peaceful, calm place for my family to live, and enjoy those lives. I'll help regardless, because Corrin here got me out of quite a few chores tonight, but it isn't about putting people in my debt. It is about being a good neighbor."
"She doesn't think of herself as a noble, so . . .. I can stir a pot, move things around, and I know how to tie the knot Ma uses for her bread knots. I know she puts a good handful of herbs in the melted butter before she brushes them, too."
Jarl shakes his head. "Well, we are a superstitious lot. Turns out everybody in my generation that is married is pregnant. At the same time. Not one here or there until they all manage to be pregnant, but, they all realized it at about the same time. My parents are a LOT scared right now, because that seems unnatural. So, while they are panicking about why everyone's pregnant, you show up and start making goo-goo eyes with about the only sister that's NOT pregnant! Without knowing what was going on, you became a manifestation of their current fears. So Ma found something for you to do that would keep you away from her daughter. You're trying hard to make this be about you. It could have been anyone sitting there making eyes with my sister and she would have done the same thing. It doesn't make sense to you because you are trying to figure out why they did this to you, when the you part is completely irrelevant."
"Hunh? I assure you, they appreciate the help. Like I said, they think you're after my sister. You were . . . diverted to keep there from being a problem. Ma sent you to do chores, just like Da took me to do chores. That's life on a farm."
"Not rude, Da, just bein' Da. Not a problem. Maybe you can get Treju to use this horse. If she's going to work with nature the way she says, a good animal would be quite the help, I bet." He pulls himself back fully upright and moves for the door. "If I'm going to get him back to town at a reasonable hour, we should start soon, and I left a bunch of things upstairs I'll want to have with me."
Purrun Household:
On his way into the house, he hears the wood destruction, and knows it isn't somebody from the family . . ..
Jarl works his way to all the gear he took off earlier, looks at it for a few moments, and bundles what won't fit in his pack into a blanket. Then he tries to sneak out with the bundle over one arm. Tries.
Once outside he finds Corrin. "C'mon. We need to go back to town. Both my folks think you want to take my sister. Not a good way to get invited back for another meal. Absolutely kept either of us from staying overnight."
Jarl snorts in initial response to the question about Corrin. "With his mask off, he's got the confidence and social skills of a small child looking for his mommy. With the mask on, he's a cold, calculating killer. Still has no social skills, though. I don't know if he knows how to approach a woman. Seriously."
"Okay, so all of the pregnant family have partners that we know would help them get there. That's good. Less likely to be some kind of magically induced pregnancies with some being skipped. Right?" He sounds more hopeful than convinced.
Looking directly at Djordi's face, again, he continues. "Thing is, I don't know what to chase down, here, Da. Yes, it is REALLY weird. But how or why would anyone bless the family like this? And it IS a blessing, right?"
He sighs. "I'll help, of course, I just don't know how to. Don't know what to look for, or what might matter."
Jarl works alongside his Da, relaxing with the relative quiet of task focus. As he reaches the bit about the traveler being too scared to conitnue, the younger man looks confused. "We're not THAT far from town. Something else going on, then?"
He follows the older man out of the barn.
Jarl takes the pouch, but then stops and looks at it for a short moment before handing it back. He looks into Djordi's eyes, "Thank you. Haven't had the chance to pick up a pipe since getting back." He just shrugs and motions with his left hand as if saying "go on."
"So, she just le . . .. Wait. ALL of 'em? Except Trey, right? Even so . . .. This sounds like intervention. But WHY? It is a blessing, though. But there must be a reason . . ..
Grabbing the scissors, Jarl take a detour to look in the stall and see if the new horse is a stallion or mare, but he's not planning to take the time to check on if the horse is an intact stallion or not. Afterwards, he moves to where Djordi is trying to care for the sheep.
"Where's the burdock? I'll get it." He reaches down with the scissors, and cuts through the bottom of the clump, trying to take as little fleece as possible, hoping to comb r pull the last bits of burdock without having to cut more, though he will if he must. While he's trying to clean the fleece he left in place, Jarl comments. "Nice animal. Looks expensive. I haven't been gone that long, where did you find (him)? Looks far too pretty for you to be planning to put (him) to a plow."
Grinning from his thoughts of what his sisters and mother were going to put Corrin through, Jarl heads for the barn. Reaching the structure, the grin vanishes as he starts letting himself consider what his father might want. Shouldn't be mad at me for surviving and getting home, right? Not any chores that couldn't wait until morning, or did they not milk yet tonight? Amazing how young and scared a simple come see me can make you feel . . . Okay, Dad. Where are you?
Jarl pulls up some courage and heads into the barn to see what awaits.
Jarl's more than a bit confused, but also quite entertained, that the family is ignoring him so thoroughly to try to learn more about Corrin. He keeps starting, and stopping, to eagerly wolf the food in front of him. Each time he stops, he leans back in his chair and grins like a small child, simply enjoying the tastes of home. Once that mouthful is gone, though, he leans in and wolfs down another couple of bites before finding something that stops him yet again.
Overall, an amazingly pleasant experience after his time as a prisoner, and one he wouldn't have without the distraction Corrin is providing.
Eventually, though, he reaches a point where not only SHOULD he stop eating, but he really just doesn't want any more at the moment. We'll have to see how long THAT lasts. But he stands up and goes over to his mother, giving Nadya a hug from behind, assuming she's still hovering over Corrin. "Thank you, Mom. I needed that." Then, probably while she's starting to chastise him, he grabs his dirty dishes, and any Corrin seems to be through with, and takes them over to the wash bucket. Once he's done there, he'll head to the barn, wondering what Djordi has in mind, and worrying about how much longer he'll need to stay awake in order to clean his gear properly. Tomorrow should be good enough for replacing the ribbons the goblins ripped off of things.
Shut down as soon as he started trying to talk, Jarl stands there with his mouth open for a second before closing it and heading for the food to serve himself. After he takes his first couple of bites form one of the corn muffins, he relaxes and grins. "Welcome to the family, Corrin!"
Then he tries to get Donka's attention. "Hey, Donka! Try getting him some ale!"
Yes, Jarl deserts Corrin, leaving him in the common space with the family while he goes to strip out of the armor.
After nearly 10 minutes, Jarl comes back into the space in a clean shirt that is hanging loose on him, with pants tied up underneath, accentuating his recent loss of weight. This, naturally, gets Nadya started again, pushing a bowl of stew into Jarl's hands, likely to match the one that's already been given to Corrin.
"Yes, it was horrible. But it is over. I'm here. I'm home. Problem is, they were building an army to try to wipe Sandpoint off the map." He points at Corrin, as if he needed to. "These guys not only rescued me, but managed to capture the insane woman who was orchestrating all of it. We need to go back and make sure that her plans are dead cold without her. I'm going as support. We'll head back when Corrin, Loxley, Sazzat, Yeda, and Zeldana are ready. I couldn't live with myself if we missed the chance to stop them and more innocent people were hurt, or killed. I have to help, Mama. I have to."
Jarl suffers through his mother's reaction, until she gets quiet. "It's good to be home. I missed you, too."
Distracted by Corrin's attempt to introduce himself, Jarl pulls back from his mother a half-step. "Yes, I'm sorry, I should have handled that already. Ma mere, this is Corrin. He's part of the team that rescued me. Corrin, this is Nadya, my mother. The one outside is Soare, the youngest boy. That over there is Donka, the youngest. This is Treju, another of my sisters. You and she have some things in common, I think. And the one in the corner watching everything is Papa, or Djordi." He looks to see if anyone else is at hand, but doesn't see the others. "I want to strip out of the armor and put it up. I'll be back in a few minutes. You can't imagine how much I'm looking forward to whatever you've got ready, ma mere."
And with that said, he moves to put the armor away, to be cleaned shortly.
"You D&@$head!" Jarl opens the door as he takes the parting shot at his brother. Then he announces to the people inside "I am NOT married, but I AM home and healthy. Reason enough to celebrate! Brought one of the people who saved me. Name's Corrin."
"Well, then, my new friends, let's head for the farm and see if your presence will be enough to protect me from my family!" The sound of his voice is happy and playful, so you get the impression he's more worried about being hugged to death or smothered with kisses than any open anger.
---
RP on the road still very possible and reasonable
---
As the group approaches the farm, they can hear a few head of cattle moving away from the barn, having apparently had their nightly milking already.
A SLIGHTLY younger man bearing the same nose as Jarl, but no facial hair is walking from the barn towards the house, a large jug held before him, when he sees the group approaching. He stares for a moment, then puts the jug down and picks up a nearby shovel, heading towards the group. "You get out of my brother's armor before I have to hurt you!"
Jarl removes the helmet. "That will take a few minutes, but I was planning to take it off after we got inside instead, if you can wait, Soare. And you had the lead hand too low on the handle for a really solid swing . . .."
I'll stop there and let Rizz play with my family for a bit.
Jarl looks shocked for a moment, a quick one, before responding (apparently) to Evriani's back. "You can come borrow mine for a bit. I'm sure they'll be happy to have one of the people who rescued me to thank . . .."
Sighing as it is clear she's going to continue to try to use emotion as a weapon, Jarl nods to the others. "You know, that really should be an open offer?"
Jarl can't miss the look on Evriani's face. "Okay, I have to ask. What's wrong? Something too much family and a bad dinner could make seem better, or worse?"
Well, this seems to be over, at least for now. Jarl stows the weaponry and looks to the others who were in the fort and are NOT in the cage. "Well, it looks like things have settled enough here. I should get home. Any time in particular you would like to gather everyone back up, either tomorrow or the next day? I'm thinking we should plan to meet either for or after dinner tomorrow night, maybe at The Dragon?"
Without an obvious sign of motion, Jarl's bow is in his hand, nocked and drawn. "This will be exactly like arrowing fish in a barrel. You have nowhere to go, and no way to force her to be a shield against all of us. Let her go. Now." As he speaks, he moves slowly to the side, trying to remove as many obstacles from the shot, should he take it.
He never raises his voice. He doesn't even put strong emphasis on any of the words. It sounds like he's discussing whether there's enough flour to make biscuits or not.
Intimidate Assist:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3<snicker> So, that's a no.
Jarl's eyebrows shoot up at Jorn's reaction, but he keeps his mouth shut. He does move back towards the center of the room, near the cage. He stands there, obviously ready to do . . . something, but simply watches for now.
The young man looked from one person to another in the room, not having the background to recognize what looks like an exposition plot twist in a telenovela, but knowing the room was charged with an energy he hadn't expected.
"Yeah, 'THAT' didn't sound very positive. I'm not sure we can believe whatever she claims, though. Too many lies and too much deception already."
"Well, as near as we can tell, she organized the Goblin tribes, planned and carried out an assault on Sandpoint which I seem to have missed, and has been working to expand her control over the area's tribes with the intent of sending an assault to simply destroy the town. We captured her before she could execute that plan, obviously. And the goblin tribes she was controlling were the ones attacking the caravans. I've been a prisoner of her minions, so kidnapping and torture can be added to the list. And I think if we go back and keep looking, we might find evidence of even more. She's being the worst that a preacher's daughter could become, I think."
Nualia's response was too quick for Jarl to really leave before she started sputteirng. "Maybe you ought to be leaving with us, Orik. You seem to inspire her. I would rather she felt hopeless in her cell."
"Eh. You're probably right." He sighs. "Time to go home and let them know I'm alive. I hope they let me sleep." And Jarl will head for home unless someone gives him cause to wait.
Jarl actually laughs for a moment, as worn and weary as he is at this point. "You, 'my sweet,' are in gaol in Sandpoint, awaiting trial for your many crimes. Any other questions?" He almost sounds pleased as he describes what he thinks should be obvious.
As Cardane rambles on, Jarl just shakes his head. After she's gone on for a while, even about the changes she thinks should be made to Yeda, and starts to slow down, Jarl comments out loud "Ah, but nobody's going to marry me off without my mama's approval. And we both know that will take more than makeup and a tight dress."
As the outer cell is opened and access to the inner granted, the young Varisian sighs. "Yeda? If you would be so kind as to make one last thorough search to ensure she's taking nothing extra in there with her?" After Yeda indicates she's ready, Jarl will help place the woman in the inner cell and close the door, waiting for the guard to lock the inner cell before removing his hand and turning to leave the outer cell.
Jarl chuckles. "I have missed a few drills, I assume, but we have more pressing matters. We bring Nualia, some written evidence, and our testimony to show that she is the architect of the recent attack on Sandpoint and that she has been further planning to do even greater harm to our homes and families. She should be properly imprisoned until she can be tried, and then punished, for her crimes against our community. Oh, and, uh, I'm back from failing the mission to protect a caravan. Her foot soldiers took the caravan, and me prisoner. The foot soldiers were dealt with more . . . directly. These are Yeda and Orik, part of the party of adventurers that rescued me and gutted Nualia's operations."
Jarl almost forgot to introduce the heroes, and never considered that he might need to identify himself.
"You already did that for me when you cut me down. I'm going to just have to soak the rest off, I guess. But first we need to get her in a proper cell." He looks into town, and then out towards the family farm. "I might need to do that in the Dragon tonight instead of heading home. Who am I kidding? I need to see my mom and dad, and let them know I'm not dead. This stench will just help prove that point."
"The accused architect of the attack and prisoner for judgement. Maybe you can send someone to the Dragon and have him meet us at the Sherriff's office instead of us taking her into the Dragon?"
"What? When? How long was I captive? It couldn't have been more than a week, maybe two? How . . .?" He gathers himself, obviously controlling his breathing, slowing it.
"Who is in charge of keeping the peace, now, then?"
"Just the architect of the goblin assault, and possibly the person who's been organizing all the raids on caravans recently, too. I think Sherriff Hemlock will be excited to make her acquaintance. Don't you?"
