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The discourse gets rather heated while Reynard and Evan go back and forth examining the necromantic stone. Spoiler:
But I don't think that's it at all. I need to see it again under scrutiny... Something like this MUST be shut down, Evan. That's why I'm trying to deactivate it. Certainly you above all could see the logic in this... ARGH! Just go grab the packs from Kitzi... I can do it my-
Thanks Alistar. You too Evan. Man... for a minute there I thought we were dead. ...Never fought anything undead before. You hear the rumors but... Looking around Reynard takes inventory of those that are worse for wear. Everyone ok?
Ah! THAT HURT!
Huh? Where am I... I just got struck by the- Reynard's train of thought is cut short as the severity of the situation is rediscovered. Grasping his longsword from the ground in both hands and standing he readies himself for another melee.
Tougher than I'd have ever imagined. Maybe if I coat it with magic...
Perhaps it is later than I thought. Legs feel like iron. Eyes are just as heavy. I never thought trudging through the woods would be so intensive. Perhaps... a break would be good... maybe even a nap. Too tired... look at Derry. He's just as delirious... he's... wait. That's a signal. Could we be upon them so soon? Enemies? Now? Oh such misfortune. Reynard unsheathes his chakram and waits for the next signal from Derry.
Unsure of what to do Reynard stands near Kitzi and Evan. Gregor is wounded and this is certainly taxing him. Rast looks pretty tired... Alistar is fit to continue, Alex is ready to move, and I feel I can go another hour or so most likely. Speaking up softly... Yeah... I think you have a good point Derry. These two can rest while you scout a bit. I think that would be a good option. If you get into any trouble, use a signal whistle.
You don't look well Rast... not saying you didn't look alright before... but you just seem a little tired is all I'm saying. Shifting his eyes around, Reynard catches Alistar holding aloft his lighted weapon with seemingly renewed vigor. You know Gregor, it's ok if you want to stop. I think we all might need a bit of a breather.
Walking with Kitzi and Evan, Reynard maintains his concentration moving the wisps of light hither and thither. The darkness that was impairing his vision was cut by his dancing lights. While looking at the core of the group, the odd feeling was plaguing him. The remorse of the interchange between him and Rast was getting the better of him. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. This is going to be a long night... Everyone is upset and moving with hesitation. It all feels surreal. I can't wrap my mind around something that seems amiss. Anyone know how far they could of gone with a gait like that and dead weight on a shoulder?
Perhaps lights aren't so bad... Thinking of some myths behind sprites and hedge creatures the hedge witch has imparted, Reynard recites and few incantations back to back. Gazing around and illuminating the area with four eerily glowing orbs he begins looking for a potential trail, magical and non-magical.
Reynard scans the area
The lights don't last a long time. If we keep moving, and by chance we come across the rest of the curs that are in the area, we might be able to spook them. That might give us an advantage in an otherwise disadvantageous situation. But we don't have to... I was just suggesting... I'm sorry.
I'm fine Rast. I just... Master told... the stories were so... I'm fine. We are the rescue team right? We can't be the ones needing rescue. Reynard shakes his head and looks down and around, glancing at Evan and Kitzi, then to the strung up bandits. Evan has a point. Though its getting on in the evening, the trail would be hard to find later if conditions get worse. Then again, torch light is a sure fire way to get yourself noticed in the dark. I'd say we go. We'll move slowly but if they're camped themselves, we should make some time. And lets use as little light as possible. How good at tracking people down Derry... if you want to? Reynard nods to the bandit slumped on the ground. And anyone know if that one will wake up anytime soon? He did get a nasty lump.
Wow. He's talking to me. To me! Why's he so curious anyway... doesn't he do this sort of thing normally... I mean, his reputation does proceed him.
He probably thinks I can't handle it. He certainly looks fine with killing people. He's just brushing his hair back like it was simple business. They're so right... his brother was the better of the two... If I show weakness here he'll definitely get his fill later on. After stroking Kitzi a few times and measuring Rast's words, Reynard's posture stiffens. Pouring every ounce of subterfuge into a facade of a hardened man, Reynard replies curtly.
Yeah, of course I'm fine. What's it to you? Just keep moving and we'll get this done. A pang washed over the back of his mind.. I don't think this blood is going to come out.
Sounded like Last Rites? But they're not dead... well those two aren't. Maybe those bastards can stew in their malefaction for once. I think that's a good idea... Unless you don't want to. We can take'em down and with us for restitution when we find what left of... the stolen items. And bring back Gregor's daughter. Fine times. Finding nothing to note, Reynard sheathed his weapons and walked over to Evan and began stroking Kitzi behind the ears, easing his own anxiousness and the tremor in his hands in the process.
The longsword went semi-slack pointed downward. The bright red staining the once sterling metal, coalescing and dripping off the sword point. The sprawling gouged body of the mousy bandit still held an expression of surprise. Reynard's hands quivered. So this is what they meant. This is why father stayed a jeweler. Why Master did not show much interest in war. This is a horrible feeling. Reynard grabbed some spare paper cloth and some leaves wiping the red away with care. Staring into space he reflects on the ambush. The care and swiftness that he and his companions executed in a flurry. How easily they had adapted, and how easily he had just taken life. Misfortune lives here. We should have a look around... if it's no trouble. Maybe they'll come back? But if it's been this long already, the bandits might have already caught up and had they're way with her - if they're the ignoble curs we believe them to be. Realizing the gravity of the statement, Reynard flushed. I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I'm sorry... He finished cleaning his sword, picked up and cleaned his chakram as well, and began looking over the bodies of the bandits.
Reynard watches the beginning of battle, the start of the ambush, the start of swift and calculated carnage. Though he and his companions had slunk through the forest, they had been perceived and sure enough, as Master Beldan had told a great many times in his stories, the dam of clarity broke loose and the flood of metal and blood reigned. Like a deadly ballet playing out, Reynard acted swiftly. Gripping his long sword in both hands, he advanced forward as a streak. With darkladen eyes viewed his target, and cut them down. Misfortune lives here.
I'm not sure who was louder... With his longsword in one hand, Reynard cocks his other arm back laterally and like a catapult and hurls the chakram at one of the startled bandits.
After letting loose, Reynard stands ready in an strangely aggressive stance.
Nervously, Reynard unsheathes his sword and unclasps his charkram. His heart racing, his eyes leveled, he looked in the direction of the camp and at his companions. If the spell Evan speaks of is what I believe it is, you'll be alright. Just altered. It doesn't last long. But it's a different perspective and great feeling. You scared of the arcane? Speaking softly he postured confidently. Doesn't matter I suppose... Well, I guess I'll be the vanguard on this end... Unfortunately this statement was drowned out by the Voice of the Light praying for guidance and protection for all. I can hardly hear myself think... Reynard got into position, ready to throw his ring blade and charge in after. The theory was a well reason plan of attack, besides... who was he to argue.
Starting off to follow the others Reynard looks introspective. Seven... puts us one against even. One bigger than Rast. Given that scenario, Rast looks like he could probably go toe-to-toe with a big guy like himself. I think I probably could go one-on-one with another. Alistar looks rather suited for battle ... his armor looks well taken care of... Rast's looks like it'll fall apart in the next good clash. Alex, I'm none too sure. Evan... well he can't beat me in a duel but he has a few tricks... strategically he should stay behind the vanguard. As for Derry... where's Derry? I saw him a second ago. Strange ways Halflings... But that aside, a trap as large as this would most likely require everybody's hand. Drag marks and blood could be the fight ensuing after the trap was sprung for those who kept their wits - and couldn't make it out. Perhaps there is more than simply seven men. It could require a bigger band when dealing with bandits I believe. It oft found more men of banditry will congregate. However, if Orcs were involved... seven could potentially be a more probable number. Although they too would like to band together. If it was orcs, then perhaps that was the scouting party. What kind of merchant was this again? If it was armor and weaponry it would be taken at a loss as Master's are the best around. Could it be simply trade goods as spices and salts? But what would they need with trade goods?! But what would the need with trade goods?! Reynard heard himself saying aloud. With his non-conveyable rhetoric he looked around at his companions, his eyes went too the ground, and drew back within himself embarassed. Oh. I mean... well... Kitzi. I'll go grab the the mule. Letting slip the mind again Reynard. Swell. Reynard unhitches the mule from the tree Alistar had fasted her to, and hurriedly caught back up to the group.
Clasping the chakram in place again, Reynard leads out of the brush and toward the rogue trap, blood, and trail. I guess I'm alright in a fight... I mean... I actually had more than a few lessons. And Evan taught me a bit... So I think I'm ok. Looking down nervously, Reynard continues. So, I don't know much about following the trail if it gets difficult. I'm not sure if I'd be much help at all. I could try though.
Wound tightly in anticipation, Reynard remained still. He whispered loudly, but his voice was still a soft carry on the wind. Does that mean they're not showing up here? Should we move or stay in position?
"It would be a great injustice should we fall to an ambush before our adventure truly begins.” Yeah, couldn't agree more... Fan out? They're here?! Is now the time? Are there enemies among us? What's Derry pointing at? Reynard looks toward the direction of Derry's pointing arm. And tries to follow what the Halfling insinuates. Fanning out and then remaining still behind some brush, Reynard quietly observes the scenery until the vanguard gives the sign to keep moving.
Reynard unclasps what must be the most odd weapon in his arsenal, a chakram, as quietly as possible. As with all his weapons, an immaculate sheen ran among the metal weaponry strewn across his body, it glinted a keen edge for lethal force. Holding it with care, he prepares himself for a battle from a distance. Staying as still as possible with his companions, Reynard looks properly poised for full combat despite his normally timid reactions. About to whisper toward Rast but realizing the distance, Reynard chokes off a retort and holds his breath for the anticipation of a fight.
A small hint of glee ran across the face of Reynard as the ferry pulled away into the dense mists. The eerie feeling that crept up along his spine doubled with the heavy fog - and the excitement and edge was apparent as he drank in this precocious experience. Alistar, you make it sound like we're going to die. It's worse between the mystery ahead and an odd feeling. So where do we go now that we're here. I've never really had time to venture out far from Morgan's Ford. Looking at the path ahead and then back to the post, Reynard evaluates the damage. I could probably fix this... maybe. The thought was fleeting because he lacked the materials and he knew it. Making his way a few steps further on the path, staring intently down at the ruts and where they lead Reynard turns back inquisitively. Should stay here for a bit and look around?
Shock washed across Reynard's face as he had been one of the handful that was singled out by the Constable. Listening intently on the words of Reggard, Reynard felt a twinge of non-belief. The Constable, wants... me?! But, I'm just a nobody... I work with Master Beldan most days... I... I don't talk to many people and I'm nearly not as adept with the arcane as Evan - even though I prod him a bit. Everyone likes Alistar, Alex knows her fathers trade, Rast is Rast - as much of a reputation as his brother. But Darry and I aren't much. I guess he can talk his way out of a burlap sack, but not me. I... hmmm. Trying to rationalize the Constable's seemingly hasty decision about Reynard, he concurred with the veteran's acumen. I haven't thought about it much. I suppose I could be strong considering I work hammering metal most days. I don't sit around like dad working on jewelry in a desk chair and atrophy. And if anything gets dinged up I can do some repairs on the weapons. I have learned some things Evan has taught me or at least has shown the mechanics for... Yes, I think he's right. My experience is vastly limited, but yet that is another reason to send me forth into unforeseen circumstance, empirical providence. Reaching out, Reynard accepts the potion in hand with a stiff nod and stores it in his pouch. Remembering the aftermath and crowds of the Marketplace, Reynard delved back into memory. Unable to convey his understanding of the Constable's decision, he turns again to resume what he thought was a conversation he had to Evan and Alex. What are you guys going... to... Reynard watched as Alex stalked away completely uninterested in his words. Evan too was focused on his studies and oblivious to the outside world. Reynard looked up and found Rast preoccupied pushing terse yet pertinent questions toward the Constable and Alistar discussing the the Blessings of the Radiant to the throng of followers that surrounded him. Reynard collected himself and wilted slightly. Speaking to his peers and the Constable, Reynard postured himself and tried to lilt. I'll, ah, meet you at the ferry. And with that, he left. Reynard headed back for the blacksmith shop to pick up his tools and notify his Master of his new mission. The gruff smith patted him on the back and said something to the affect of "a boy becoming a man." Reynard took to his home to pack for a journey he knew would come around his 17th birthday. The omens aplenty and his ominous discussion with the "Witch of the Wood" gave him reason enough to trust that he may yet see the world beyond Morgan's Ford. He packed various pragmatic things into his backpack and tried to strap his goods down tightly, though he knew he wasn't the best at knowing what was needed to survive the wilds. The short discussion with his father left him want for more. It seemed that his father was just as uninterested in his new found duty as Alex or Evan were in their pseudo-conversation prior. As door shut softly into the fog filled afternoon, Reynard marched to the ferry around the appointed time. All his equipment in tow, he couldn't help but reflect on his father's demeanor. Maybe he was just too busy. Although his hands stopped working when I told him, he didn't even turn to look toward me. I don't know. I could never understand what he thinks really. But for once, I swear it sounded... forced. Now, as he stands before his new companions, Reynard feels quietly refreshed. The uncertainty of a new beginning can have its advantages.
Catching the Constable's speech just as he began, Reynard breathed deep exhausted breaths. Listening intently, he looked around those in crowd and their reactions. Soon enough he spots a few of the people he saw this morning in the Grumpkin. Oh... this is really serious. I can't believe it. She was right, my birthday is going to mark a new beginning. Something is changing I can feel it - something... perhaps sinister. The endless of thoughts blew through Reynard's mind like a whirlwind. The closing of the Constable's speech resounded newness, excitement, and anxiousness. The swirled potential of the unknown sparked a curiosity not felt since Reynard was 13. Spotting Alex and Evan, Reynard makes his way through the hum of the slowly dispersing crowd which is talking of mystery,bandits, and treasure. Hesitating, Reynard opens up slightly. Hey... so... what are you guys going to do? I mean... if there are Orcs. Do you think there are any survivors?
Flushed with exhaustion and catching his breath, Reynard scrambles to the few weapons he had made. The sound of the new trumpet caused a stir in his heart as the dream of a merchant caravan vanished. More appropriately the dream was replaced with a reality of potential calamity that had overrun Morgan's Ford in the past. The merchant caravans I suppose are a thing of dreams and aspirations for the town. I got my hopes up for nothing. Oh. I was going to bring you some ale and food. But I left it at Grumpkin Two Brews. OH! I didn't pay either. But I didn't take the food with me so it's ok. Will Andred just feed it to the dogs? I should have apologized. I'm sorry Master. Clearing his mind he grabs a set of lamellar leather armor and takes the time to adorn it properly as he had been taught. It smells of fresh oil, worked in meticulously, and has a minimal rubbing sound as the leather is adorned. As if trying to usher him out the door, Master Beldan assists Reynard with the fine tuning and a few of the straps making sure everything is well fitted. You can do this. Assembly meeting. People. Keep your eyes up. You're representing the Master of Arms and Armor. But, maybe they're all going to stare at me... Of course they'll stare at me, I have the incomparable goods of a master smith adorned. People. Keep your eyes up. You can do this. Thank you Master. I think I have what I need. I'm off with haste. With that, Reynard once again swiftly heads for the Market. The sounds of the trumpet still ringing in memory... I wonder what it could be.
With a reasoned realization of Rastavar's excitement, Reynard perks up toward Evan and Alex. Keeping his eyes down but a strange shifty flash of eye contact with Darry, Alister, Dannan, and Andred, he stands in surprising attention. Speaking to no one in particular, he murmurs. That could only be it... Someone must have rung the bell from the other side of the River... I've got to tell Master. The winter drought must be over. Ah, Evan I'll show you later... Forgetting his order and his production of payment to the table, Reynard awkwardly runs out of the Grumpkin with excited anticipation. This is wonderful news. I can help the shop and display our wares for our newcomers. Some people just have a great eye for great craftsmanship and as Master says, "Ours is the Best Around - Dwarven made." Well... for the most part. Even through the heavy fog, Reynard's pace was swift. Dodging a few passerby and maintaining his footing on the dew covered ground, he arrives at the shop in what feels to be a record time. The potential of a new season blossomed and overshadowed the burning in his lungs general exhaustion from the run.
The thickness of the heavy fog was palpable. Reyanard dashed from bed with urgency as he had realized that the waned natural light did not wake him. The Mastersmith would not be pleased. Quickly dressed and reassuring himself his apron and tools were still at the shop and not taken home, he rushed out of the house with alacrity. He always grumbles though. Getting him some food would certainly abate his wrath... or ale... at least for a few hours. Rounding the corner to the Grumpkin's Two Brews, Reynard breathing heavily passes Rast, looking steadfast and urgent as he too is sprinting, just in the opposite direction. Bursting into the kindly establishment, Reynard keeping his eyes lowered. Mug .... takard of ale! ... Ah, please. And two bowls of stew. I'm late. Eyes moving away from the floor, Reynard takes in his new surroundings. ...Oh. Hey, Alex. Evan! Find anything new? You know, I've been working on something great... I'm not saying what your not doing isn't great. I'm just saying that with all that sitting around you do, you have to have figured out some sort of intricacy of arcana. Well, I'm working on something better. Want to see it? Reynard eyes Alister
He seems nicer when he's not talking. I wonder what he does all day? I think he needs a trade. Dad says people like that need a trade. Reynard crosses to sit with Evan and wait for his meals and ale.
I've probably seen Alex and Evan kicking around a few scholars or sages when I poke my head about to ask questions about magic. Evan has probably given me a few pointers - although had no sense for me to return the favor for fighting lessons. I've most likely seen Alistar and his sermons a few times but couldn't muster the courage to sit through one. It had nothing to do with swordplay, nor arcane crafts. Anyone who needed a weapon probably got a piece of my handywork or has seen me in the weaponsmith's shop timidly taking or giving your orders. Though on the bigger side, I have a lacking of force of personality.
dotting for interest. Will try to come up with a concept. Thinking magus. |
