Maeric ponders Cassia's statement before saying "it's definitely suspicious but it could have multiple meanings, I've definitely seen my fair share of "Protection fees"", putting a health dose of sarcasm on the last bit.
"I slept terribly... I can't help but to feel a sense of foreboding if we are all experiencing this. I can't seem to recall the dreams I had but I can tell you they made me uneasy." Maeric says, more words than typical spilling from his mouth as his normally steady rasp holds an unnerved shake to it.
Maeric offers himself for mid watch, "I can watch the midnight shift, my vision isn't impeded by the night and my rest doesn't need to be uninterrupted"
The mention of shady people piques Maeric’s interest, old habits and past associations stirring at the edges of his thoughts.
Maeric shifts slightly, the mask turning toward Silas as the man’s voice drops. When he speaks, it’s low enough not to carry, but steady and without accusation.
"Shady people… what kind?"
He pauses a moment, giving Silas room to answer.
"Travelers passing through, or folk who meant to stay?"
Maeric keeps his distance from the wreckage at first, scanning the edges of the road and the treeline more out of habit than insight. After a moment, he steps closer, crouching beside one of the broken wagons but not touching anything.
“Can’t make much of it,” he admits, his voice low and rough beneath the mask. “Too much torn up to read.”
He glances toward Raok and Daxiana, giving a small nod as they speak.
“If you say Centaurs, I’ll take your word for it.”
At Cassia’s question, he tilts his head slightly, considering before speaking again.
“Could be food… or tribute, maybe. Hard to tell. Either way, they left their mark.”
He rises, scanning the road ahead with a hand resting lightly on one blade.
“I’ll keep an eye out. If they’re close, best we see them before they see us.”
Sorry for the late post, got busy with some last minute winter yard prep the past few days
Maeric gives a small nod, voice steady beneath the mask. “I’ll take the Dunsward assignment.” He says nothing more, the words simple statement rather than opinion.
While Ikit charges and Gaxi’s fire roars across the hall, Maeric moves in their shadow. He slips through the edge of the melee, staying just outside the brightest light. When an assassin breaks formation to avoid the flames, Maeric is already there, one clean strike at a distracted flank, then gone again before the body hits the floor.
He doesn’t call out, doesn’t draw attention. Just a brief rasp of breath from behind the mask as he scans for another opening, blades held low and ready to dart in where the others create space.
Maeric draws his blades in one smooth motion, the steel catching the dim light as he drops into a guarded stance. His mask turns slowly as he scans the corridor, eyes tracking movement through dust and shadow. Each breath is measured, every step deliberate as he gauges the room for threats or another way forward.
“Stay sharp,” he mutters, voice low and rough. “They won’t be the last.”
Maeric inclines his head slightly toward Piret, his tone respectful but still detached.
“A sensible approach. I’ve no interest in command either, and I’ve less faith in choosing it by committee. If there’s someone fit to lead, the wilds will show us soon enough.”
Maeric tries to keep a healthy distance between himself and the suspicious elf after he says his piece. close enough to react if she tries something but far enough he won't be immediately caught off gaurd.
Maeric speaks, his voice carrying clearly across the gathered crowd, not loud, but firm. There’s a rough edge to it, a dry rasp that speaks of disuse more than weakness, and though the brass mask dulls its tone, the conviction beneath it is unmistakable.
“I didn’t come south for power or titles. I’ve no desire to rule, only to see something worth living for come of this.”
my only thought on these groups is that with both of the other divine players not posting currently, putting all 3 of the divine capable characters that are posting in one party will make it pretty hard on the 1st party for healing
Maeric squints at the tall elf woman, Jaethal trying to recall if what he knows of her and peer into why her appearance seems off. You don't survive by ignoring things that seem weird. he thinks to himself
Maeric listens intently, interested in the answer to the dwarf's question. Though his expression is hidden behind his mask, a glimmer of excitement passes through his eyes. This sounds exactly like what is necessary to create a legacy, untainted by my blood. He moves closer from the outskirts of the crowd to hear better.
