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Radjiik, normally used to walking noiselessly, is apparently a bit unnerved by Rasvan's constant interventions. Or at least, that's the only explanation as to why he suddenly replies back with a "SHHHH!" which was originally intended to be a mere warning, but is in fact loud enough to echo through the empty room. His cheeks blush a deep crimson as he realizes what he has just done. "Uh, I mean- We've got to be quiet," he stammers sheepishly, all too aware that it doesn't help his case at all. Mortified, he turns to inspecting the door's lock, hoping to make up for his faux-pas -or maybe just to avoid eye contact with his teammates.
"Marriage, then... In spite of his many years spent in a Varisian caravan, Radjiik had always been rather skeptical of card-reading. Not that he didn't believe in the power of Harrow -the Gods knew how the entire caravan had trembled on the day the fortune-teller had drawn The Fiend at the beginning of a day, and with good reason. He just thought that in the hundred of times someone had drawn cards, either for guidance or for their own entertainment, readings and interpretations were sometimes based more on wish fulfillment than genuine divination powers, and just because Niculaie liked to think that he had once Paid a beer to Caydean Cailean himself in a tavern didn't mean his "vision" hadn't something to do with his fondness for alcoholic beverages and dubious substances. Especially when it gave him an excuse to indulge in his "true calling" even more often. Or perhaps the Shoanti was just reluctant to think about "union" and "friendship" when he wasn't accustomed yet to the sudden departure of Flori and Zyren. Feeling bit moody, he nevertheless takes his place dutifully at the rear party.
It doesn't take long for Radjiik to pick on the Varisian tune, though it has been quite a long time since he last heard one of these distinctive meldoes. It brings back memories of campfires, guitars and songs and laughs, and something like a dull ache, the kind that you can mostly overlook until the wrong move makes it smart. He doesn't yet know whether he should be relieved or apprehensive that he will have to travel with the man and his songs. "Are Zyren and Flori OK?" he inquires, while Akatsu gives the newcomer a summary of what happened to them.
"I'm fine. Didn't even touch them," Radjiik answers a little awkwardly, making up for his relative uselessness in the battle by nudging the dogs away from the road with the sole of his boots. He wipes them conscientiously on a rock to get rid of the blood; he'd clean them more thoroughly when they stopped for the night, but this would do.
Radjiik spots the two monstrosities a little before Zyren points them to the group. They looked like dogs -in the same way that a rabid, diseased and half-starving sewer rat might look like a mouse. Mirroring the blue-skinned archer, he carefully places his bow on his lap, nervously peeking over his shoulder to check if the canines are moving towards them.
Reassured at seeing the leopard focus only on its prey, Radjiik lowers his bow as well. They were lucky that this boar had found itself on the wild cat's way: a group of five humans was enough of a threat to make even such a strong predator hesitate, but if no other preys were available and hunger was gnawing at its stomach... He keeps his position at the back of the group as they advance, keeping his senses alert in case something more dangerous than a leopard might lurk in the marsh.
""You all right? Did that flesh-guy from inside give you bad food to eat?" "I don't know," Radjiik wipes his mouth with a grimace. "But I'm not going to risk it." Quickly agreeing with the fighter that it is best to leave the snakes alone, he follows him back inside. Before the group exits the house, he takes some time to fill his stomach with proper food, seeming particularly partial to the cheese. At first, he doesn't dare asking for anything, but Flori's inquiry allows him to work up the courage to ask rather timidly if he can make himself a sandwich before being on his way out.
"Wait," Radjiik suddenly stops Dargu. "I think I heard a snake." He looks up at the wall, evaluating its height. It's a feasible climb- though he has no idea what to expect on the other side. Catching snakes bare-handed isn't something that he's particularly used to do, and he can't say he's eager to try. "Do you think we ought to take a look? It might run -er- I mean, get away if we don't." Almost absent-mindedly, the Shoanti rogue starts reaching for his silk rope.
"I'm Radjiik," the Shoanti boy briefly introduces himself. He'd been feeling ill-at-ease since the beginning of the conversation, staring at Walthus as if he was expecting him to turn into a horrifying creature at any second. Learning that what they just fought was supposed to be a mere runt didn't do much to reassure him. "I'll join you," he offers as Dargu gets ready to scout around the house, secretly hoping to catch five minutes to find a relatively remote spot from the house where he can throw up his meal. One unbearable thought about the faceless monster ought to do the trick. Besides, Walthus had more food at the ready.
As the creature attempts to flee, Radjjik, who finds his hands suddenly free, quickly notches an arrow onto his bow in hopes to hit it before it leaves. If I can get a shot before it's out of sight: Spoiler:
Then, before he knows it, all is calm again. His barely used bow returns to its place on his back, and he sheepishly puts his rapier back in its sheath. He glances at Dominic feeding Flori, shivers, and can hardly refrain from retching at the thought of eating the monster's food. "What in the Nine Hells was that?" he asks, still in a state of shock. In an attempt to pull himself together and be of some assistance, he looks around the kitchen for a clean piece of cloth and some fresh water to wash off the blood from Flori's face and clothes.
Radjiik springs to his feet as Walthus turns into a dreadful creature, and his chair hits the floor with a loud thud. He draws his rapier with with the confused air of someone who doesn't know exactly what to do, stepping aside reflexively as the monster slams Flori into the wall. Trembling a little, he tries to walk around the monster to get a good angle of attack.
Radjiik follows the group into the house, not really bothered by the dilapidated and messy state of Walthus's living room. He eats the food that is presented to him, slowly and politely at first, then ravenously. "Thank you for your help," he hesitates a moment, as if looking for the right words, then asks quite bluntly: "Are you afraid of something?"
Ah. Well, he did seem rather too nice for a man unused to visitors. "We won't take much of your time," Radjiik moves his foot a couple inches forward, gently getting in the way of the closing door. "Only we don't know where to start looking. The Sheriff told us you knew the Marsh better than anyone. We can get lost without your help."
Radjjik follows Zyren, staying on the lookout for possible traps. While he doesn't fully expect Walthus to be some kind of aggressive sociopath, the state of the house implies that he's not the type to frequently entertain guests. Or want them at all.
"We have some questions to ask you," he calls out as well, albeit more nervously than Zyren. "It's about goblin attacks. We need to stop them." If Watlhus was of the paranoid sort, it was better to give him as much information as possible.
Between the mosquitoes bites and the vague impression that he should have taken more rations with him, Radjiik wasn't having a very good day. "A growl?" he repeats, not nearly focused enough to have noticed anything beyond the annoying and endless buzzing in his ears. "Coming from where?" Out of cautiousness, he notches an arrow onto his bow, waiting to see if something comes to attack them.
""We could do that, or we set out now and head to the marsh edge, then camp for the night. If we're lucky, the goblins come to us and we can snag one." "We'd have to be really lucky," Radjiik objects. "I don't see how we could snag one in the dark. I don't know about bug repellant, but torches probably won't be great in a marsh. We'll be better off with a lantern. And possibly a compass."
"Everyone got some kind of ranged weapon?" Radjiik simply gestures to his shortbow and his quiver full of arrows.
The cathedral is as huge as it is beautiful, and, although he's not a believer, Radjiik takes his time admiring its stained-glass windows and altars dedicated to the gods. Intimidated by the rider's wounds and his clear desire not to be disturbed, he lets Zyren and Flori handle the situation without interfering.
As soon as the group is outside, Radjiik looks around distractively, trying to spot a cream-coloured she-cat who might be interested in some leftover salmon. He doesn't pay close attention to what the party is saying before Dominic mentions a rope: "Wait, I have a rope," he says, taking a silk rope out of his backpack. "I've also got two pitons, a couple of torches... Er, some rations. But not much else."
Radjiik grimaces in disgust at the thought of cutting off a goblin's ears, or head, but the threat is an important one. No one would wish Sandpoint to stand in the way of a goblin tribe. He stands up as the group heads for their respective rooms, suddenly remembers the pot of coffee he ordered, pours himself half a cup, finishes it as fast as he can, takes a few steps towards the stairs, before hurrying back to the table to grab the nearly forgotten salmon he had saved for the cat. He then heads upstairs to put on his light armour and his backpack, not forgetting to take his weapons with him. "We can head for the chapel first," he suggests to Flori.
The party was already sitting, engaged in friendly banter around a delicious breakfast, when Radjiik comes downstairs. It wasn’t ordinarily his habit to get out of bed this late, but since Sandru had left him behind to get on another caravan trip on his own, he hadn’t been particularly keen on getting up in the morning. “You can stay at Sandpoint for a while,” Sandru had suggested. “That’ll leave you some time to figure out where you want to go next, since you haven’t really decided. It will do you some good to unwind a little, perhaps get to know some folks, stop spending all your time by yourself. The Rusty Dragon has pretty cheap rooms, and I’m sure Ameiko would be glad to have you over.” “But what about the Sczarnis?” Radjiik had protested. “We’ve been out there for months without as much as catching a glimpse of them. I think you’re pretty safe. Besides, kid -and I mean that in the nicest way possible-, they’re not what has me worried about you right now.” He never should have admitted to being bored on the trip. He should have been relieved that it was uneventful, even if the most exciting thing to happen on a weeks-long journey was a couple of peacocks escaped from a nearby farm planting themselves in the middle of the road and refusing to move, perching themselves on top of the wagons’ roofs when Sandru’s men tried to drive them away. They had to be shooed off when a broom, and a lot of patience. They had somehow managed to look offended about it. ”Good morning,” Radjiik greets the group. He sits down near Flori and Dargu, and orders the salmon and a black coffee, which he slowly eats while attentively listening to the others’ conversation. As it happened, Sandru had a deceptively precise idea of which “folks” frequented The Rusty Dragon, and they all knew and got along with each other. Some were familiar -Flori and Dargu he knew to be often part of the caravan staff, and Sandru had once spent an entire evening drinking and laughing with the man with a butterfly tattoo. He hadn’t felt jealous. At all. Zyren and Akatsu, he didn’t know so well. The former he knew to be a singer who spent a lot of time with Koya, and the latter to be Ameiko’s sibling. He had often seen them talk together at the Rusty Dragon, always retired in a private corner, making it clear that they didn’t want anyone to join in the conversation. Apparently, he had survived some sort of a brutal assault. He tried not to look at his scars too much. Overall, the only being he had managed to befriend over the course of a month was a female stray cat often hanging around The Rusty Dragon, and for whom he frequently saved bits of meats and fish from his meals. Originally fearful, she now ran to the Shoanti boy who was so liberal with food, chin scratches and tummy rubs, meowing loudly for attention. His only plans for the afternoon was to spend some time with her, and- okay, he was starting to see Sandru’s point. “Flori, if you aren't torturing poor Zyren with your singing, you are more than welcome to help lift lumber.” “I’m available, if you need help,” he offers unusually spontaneously, even if the thought of spending an entire day with almost-strangers makes him ill-at-ease. For good countenance, he cuts what’s left of his salmon into little bits, that he wraps carefully in a napkin. “What is going on over there anyway? Hemlock seems to have his hands full." Radjiik turns around to observe the crowd surrounding Balor, the only other Shoanti he knows to live at Sandpoint. His mere presence at the Rusty Dragon is unusual, and Radjiik has never seen such a crowd so agitated in such a normally peaceful town. “Maybe Bethana would know,” he suggests. Thinking quickly, he downs his coffee, and gestures to the halfling maid for a refill. When she comes, he thanks her and asks: “Excuse me, do you know what’s going on?”
My list of weaknesses is ready! I've added it in the crunch. Flori: She probably didn't get a lot of answers, but given that Flori is of the friendly and smiling type, I guess he would have relaxed a little, maybe even answered with slight smiles of his own :) But yeah, in spite of this small victory, he hasn't opened up much that day. However, re-reading the Caravan Guard trait (and also reading the GM's post in the game play thread), I guess it actually means that Radjiik's been around for a while, doesn't it? If he has just returned from a caravan trip with Sandru, maybe he got to know Dargu and Flori a little more.
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