Tenebrae - User contributions [en]

PrP: Fey-tasia

2011-10-25T21:43:50Z

Alariel:

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== Log Info ==
*'''Title''': Fey-tasia
*'''Emitter''': [[Fiaol]]
*'''Characters''': [[Kraken]], [[Nasirri]], [[Alteri]], [[Sharna]]
*'''NPCs''': [[Fiaol]]
*'''Place''': Alexandros - Feywood
*'''Time''': Oct, 27, 2011
*'''Summary''': Food is scarce, and Fiaol has organized at least this group to go into the Feywild for food.
*'''APL''': 3.75/4
*'''Death Consent''': Yes
*'''Encounter 1''': Satyr – RP Encounter CR 4
*'''Encounter 2''': Elk (Megaloceros(CR4) + Primative(+1 CR) + Feytouched(+1CR)) CR 6
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There is a crispness to the air, a hint of cold, despite the gloriously bright colors of autumn with the sun rising up in the sky. The sky, itself, is a most gorgeous blue, contrasting with the red, orange and yellow leaves which are turning, signally the impending winter. That crispness in the air ... smells like frost. Just a hint, there's no frost yet. But it is coming.

And that frost and true cold bode ill for the mass of refugees which have found their way to Alexandria and the borders of Alexandros, seeking shelter from the ravages of war and the doom of Taara brought upon all the lands. People fearing, hungering, crying for liberty and relief - something they have not had for five long years - begging the heros of the almost mythical now Alexandria to make the world right again.

Hero or no, there are those with compassion in their heart, or those who see how to turn bad times into profitable times, that are gathering for the greater good. Food is needed, and with winter fast approaching, and the granaries full, the tubers and fruits put into storage, there simply is not enough. The most plentiful, and easiest resource to be found now, are wild ones - the beasts of the Eldwyn which surrounds Alexandros. Protein is needed through the winters to keep a body nourished, furs and skins are needed to keep bodies warm - and even with the charity the city is known for, it is not uncommon at all for hunters to be selling their skins and furs, if just to cover costs and prepare for their own winter needs.

Thus many groups have been gathering, looking to put together hunting expeditions - Fiaol and the Church of Gilead are one such group. After all, the High Hunt is approaching, and what better way to celebrate it then hunting to feed those in need? Thus, Fiaol has been posting in the adventurers guild, and has even gone scouting into the mountains and into the Eldwyn for good hunting grounds where-in to send others.

And that brings us to today, where a small group was contacted by the Green Warden Fiaol herself - a red-headed lass wearing the holy symbol of Gilead, a smiling freckled face, and an enthusiasm that was too large for her human body by sevenfold.

"And so, after Karl and I went into the mountains, we came down through the FEywild here, an this looked to be a great hunting spot. Why, I swear I saw the largest elk I have ever seen in my life, and I grew up in the Mythwood! I hope you don't mind hunting here. I mean, I have heard of large beasts in the Felwood, but I think Karl wants to go hunting there, and I"m not really of a mind to tell him no. And it's best to split groups up so there isn't any over hunting, which is what I really fear if people just randomly go hunting on their own. I really should talk to the city guard about hunting permits just for this winter, and regions of the Eldwyn, so that we can limit overhunting as much as possible," excitedly chirps young Fiaol.

Kraken mutters, "Overhunting? I suppose people will be using things like arrows and spears to hunt then. It's not really sporting if you don't wrestle it to the ground yourself, or at least get up close and use a knife or an axe." He seems prepared to go off into the wilds, though not with much in the way of classic hunting gear, other than a few extra ropes and poles for a sled to haul game back with.

The winter holds a special joy for Nasirri. Come from far Am'Shere, she has only rarely experienced the fierce rigors and fures of the cold winter months, and those only briefly in her own skin. Slender hands folded beneath either sleeve, she tightens her clasp as she draws deeply of the scented air, the tang tasting of so many distant snows... "A wonderful thought," the Egalrin says, turning back to the energetic young huntress with a beak-gaped warmth, "But I do not know how well the people outside the walls shall accept it. When there is hunger on the air, the warnings of the law are far less sharp than they should be. Perhaps better to organize parties of hunters, with proper guidance in what and where, and how. Coordination, perhaps."

"You'll owe me -big time- after this. You remember that." Sharna hisses to Alteri as they arrive, a slender finger pointed at the other woman and azure eyes narrowed in her direction. Goodness of her heart, not to much, no. A chance for profit, perhaps. But mostly because she'd been asked directly by a trusted colleague.

The words are quiet, for the Eldanar's ears alone. For you see, Sharna and forests do not get along admirably at all. Hunting isn't something that comes naturally to the city-dwelling half-elf. Her usual cloak has been replaced with a warmer, heavier one, which is wrapped tightly about her to ward off the chill, and she remains otherwise silent - for the moment - allowing Alteri to lead the proverbial way.

It is the mass of refugees and the impending cold that weighs most of Alteri's mind. Already, the Eldanar has been seen around the Den and Guild, putting out feelers for volunteers to hunt with her. Needless to say, her efforts are but a scratch on the surface. Who better to lean on for true publicity than one of the holy orders?

Brought here by goals that match easily with the Church's, the female fighter listens to the chirpy redhead, pointedly letting Sharna's hissings roll off her like water off a duck's back. With them is Stupid, the blue roan packed with equipment to build a travois or three. A saddled pack mule keeps Stupid company, the animal placidly watching the agitated half-elf from beneath an overlong forelock. Finally, she turns to quirk a brow at Sharna, "Did you want the repayment in kind to what you paid me, for that heal potion?"

Paladins look impressive. Shiny breastplates and glowy swords, all that. When it comes to hunting expeditions? Not so practical. For the purposes of the hunt, Faiza has in fact slung a robe over that breastplate of hers, and is wearing a heavy woolen cloak. The robe, while not exactly camouflage coloured, is dark enough blue that it won't be a problem in snowless forested areas. The cloak, though? It's brilliantly, eye-searingly white, trimmed with white fur and rather glorious-looking. For sneaking up on prey, though, it's -spectacularly- impractical. Not that the paladin in question even seems to notice the dirty looks her cloak is getting from the more experienced hunters in the group. Perhaps she's simply assuming the looks are because of who, or rather what, she is. Faiza, Paladin of the Silver Guard, is about as shadow elfy as you can get without actually wearing nothing but spidersilk. Dark grey, nearly black, skin. Narrow, slanted, glowing blood-red eyes. Ginger hair. ... wait. Ginger hair?
"So, what exactly is my role in this?" the Mul'niessa paladin is asking of one of the leaders of this little expedition. "I don't actually have a bow, or anything of that sort. Am I to be a bodyguard?"

Kraken looks over at the paladin, chuckling a little bit, "What do you need of a bow or the like? It's a sporting challenge to ride down your game and cut it down with a blade close at hand, so you can see and smell the fresh blood as you make the kill. Nothing quite like it, makes the roast that night taste even better, you'll see."

Sharna rolls her eyes at Alteri, shaking her head. "Let's just get this over with." she replies, putting on her best little smile for the employer's sake - a business-like little expression, neither warm nor icy, but pleasant. Her hunting implement... sort of... is a crossbow rather than a bow. Not terribly sporting, but it'll do. She takes a step away from Kraken, discreetly shuffling away. Barbarians. So... uncivilized.

Green eyes widen just a bit at the fact that Kraken has no shirt... then Fiaol is nodding and reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Ahhh,let me guess, you visit the Battlehall often!" she exclaims happily, before moving on to each individual with an extended hand. "So, I really thank you so much for doing this. Really. And ooh, look, one of Eluna's! Glad to see you here, Sister!" she offers to Faiza with a broad grin. "Member of the Silver Crescent or no? I've been considering petitioning to join myself, you see..." the huntress starts to ramble on, before blinking and stopping herself with a faint blush.

"But ... that isn't why you are here, are you? Here," offers Fiaol as she reaches into a satchel at her side, holding out a map of the Feywood, the area where they will be hunting. "Now, just stay out of the toadstool or stone rings, and things should be fine."

Nasirri raises a taloned hand, chasing the flow of her beak as she closes her eyes. Hunting holds its own special spark in her heart of hearts, but it is the constant dance and flow of emotion from the smoother skinned that gives such endless fascination! And bemusement, as sharp eyes reawaken with a twinkle of quiet mirth. "I am told that hunting is often a special ritual," she begins, continuing mischief's trail of thought, Coyote nipping at her thoughts. "From when mankind often slept for the winter?"

Alteri blinks big baby blues at Sharna, "You don't like being paid that way?" she makes a small hngh'ing sound of amusement, "Sure, whatever you say." her drawl in no way mocking, merely, lazy. Nodding to the rest of those gathered, for she has had cause to interact with them at one point or another, she then eyes the hand being held out to her. Uncertainly. Seeing how another may shake it, she mimics them to avoid giving Fiaol offense, though she looks entirely awkward doing so. Perhaps it is the custom of the city itself, the backwater noble muses. "Peace favour your hands," she intones formally in greeting. Oh yes, this one is either a Knight of Peace or was trained by them. Like Faiza, she doesn't look best suited for hunting traditionally, not with her breastplate, sword and massice guisarme. Perhaps that piddly quiver's worth of javelins is what she plans to use, or, perhaps she will be ululating right there next to Kraken on horseback.

Kraken moves over to check his horse's kit once again, then makes his way over towards Alteri. "So do you know what game we're likely to find out this way? I've not seen any of the large herds I'm used to hunting back home. This looks more like hunting in the woods."

Shaking Fiaol's hand firmly when offered, Faiza seems curiously guarded with the somewhat exuberant woman. "I have considered it. The Silver Guard allows its members quite a bit of leeway in their pursuits. For now, though, I will keep my focus broad." The Mul'niessa paladin resumes checking her equipment after the moment is passed, a simple crossbow slung from a shoulder under the cloak being the sole visible weapon she carries beside her sword and shield. The redhead seems to be keeping herself to herself, preferring to keep clear of the bustle and hubbub of preparation... and any possible shadow-elf hating daggers in the back.

Fiaol blinks at Nasirri, "When mankind sleeps for the winter? Oh, no. No. That is usually bears and ... well, no. Mankind is just smart enough to know snow is not their best element and thus stays indoors as much as possible, is what you are thinking, I believe."

Then Fiaol nods her head at Faiza, seeming nonplussed at the Mul'niessa's aloofness. "Well then, blessings on your persuits," she offers before smiling at Alteri. "Oh, thank you. Peace unto your ... hands? Is that right? I've only just seen a few knights, honestly, so I don't know what is right or not, so ... OH! And for hunting. Elk and deer, likely. No, alas, there are not the large herds here. Though, I hear the Vast has large herds off grazing animals still. One day I'd like to travel that way and see them for myself," she finishes up with a nod to Kraken.

GAME: Sharna rolls Knowledge/Local: (4)+5: 9

<OOC> Sharna knows NOTHING.

You paged Sharna with 'IT's named the Feywood? Elves come from there. Born from the trees in spring …'

Sharna pages: Hahaha. Pretty much. "THERE'S FEY IN IT?!?!"

Sharna pages: MAYBE?! POSSIBLY? Either that or it's full of bears and someone thought it would be funny to make people think there's fey... XD

You paged Sharna with 'Nah! Just elves! Sometimes, they dance nekid in the moonlight ... and kidnap travellers and get them drunk, and then the sunlight forms into half-elves! Totally awesome!'

You paged Sharna with 'Yeah, there's fey there.'

From afar, Sharna is a half-elf, has not formed from moonlight OR sunlight. :(

You paged Sharna with 'But does the REST of the group know that?'

Sharna pages: Then again, was too young to remember. Maybe! :(

You paged Sharna with 'Faiza was totally formed from the shadows between the moonlight and the sunlight. *sagenod*'

You paged Sharna with 'Play it up if you want. I'm just joking around. But tell 'em a whole bunch of stuff, true and not true if you want! I'm sure they'll believe you.'

Nasirri clicks her beak, the temptation to continue on a relentless thrum in her veins! But she relents all the same, shaking her head in quiet laughter at some private thought. "I see," she returns demurely, bowing her head before she casts her gaze out across the vast area, the woodlands beyond. A curiosity to breathe wonder into the soul!

"Feywood, Feywood..." Sharna chants, tapping her chin. Eventually, she just shakes her head. "Tell you the truth, I'm not even exactly sure which part of the Eldwyn it's at. Well, I suppose there may be... fey... in it? Don't think it's good to mess with them, though." she says, shrugging her shoulders. Seems no helpful information from her, today. Shamelessly, she hops into the saddle of Alteri's horse, adroitly lifting herself into the seat and giving the animal a pat on the neck. Alteri earns herself a coy little smirk, perhaps a little on the disdainful side - but not much more.

Kraken chuckles, "Yes, the large herds of the vast. Finding them is not the trouble, surviving the hunt is much more. Ride the herd the wrong way and you'll be pounded flat like the grasses." He moves over and mounts his horse as he sees others mounting up. "Do we have someone that will track the game then? Someone good at it, I mean. I know a few of the signs, but only in passing."

Stupid is bored. When bored, the mare likes to look for apples, in Alteri's hair. Ducking under whuffling horselips, Alteri uses the bit to direct the mare's attentions elsewhere. Like Sharna's shiny pale hair, except now the half-elf is stealing her ride. "Not I," she replies to Kraken's query, though a flat-eyed stare is being directed up at the rogue. Finally turning to regard the much taller Kraken, she gives a slight shrug, "Yet, I do believe it has to be large. Rabbits will not fill stores in any significant measure." The Highborn certainly looks ready for bear, literally. Then Fiaol is clearing up the menu of what is to be hunted this day. The corners of her eyes crinkle at the cheerydin, "As long as peace is sought, be it by hands or feet, it is right."

Fiaol wrinkles her nose at Alteri's mount, and shakes her head with a warm smile for the beast. "Well, are there any other questions? The map should tell you where to go, and well... it doesn't matter how skilled you are, so long as you try, people will be grateful. /I/ will be grateful."

"How hard could it be?" Sharna says with a shrug, before bending forward to give Stupid a gratuitous amount of neck scratches, affectionate. The lithe little half-shadow elf hunts -people- for a living. Surely mere animals should not be a problem!
Yes, this will most certainly be an interesting outing. Sharna gives the map a once-over before handing it off to Alteri, apparently considering her the tracker and pathfinder for the day.

"Then it surely it will be our pleasure to assist," Nasirri replies, eyes bright with the expectation of moments to come. Hunting! And then, a long pause as she glances towards the others. "Are we to ride after our chosen quarry?" she adds, giving the four-legged beasts a thoughtful regard.

Since Sharna has volunteered to look after their mounts, Alteri, map still in hand, is free to approach the aloof Elunite. Sombre as always, the Eldanar stops a few paces from Faiza. Eschewing a simple handshake, she dips into a full court bow, "Mistress Faiza," she straightens but keeps her voice low, "I apologise for my cryptic remarks at the... chilli tasting event. I felt need to send warning, but was uncertain of prying ears... He mentioned the need to visit his sister. I hoped what I said would be enough to set you on guard."

"Riding or not..." Sharna begins, giving no sign of wanting to get off the saddle. Hands rest idly on the front of the saddle as she regards the fiery-feathered Egalrin. -She's- riding, apparently, no questions about it. "... we'll need them to drag back anything we bring down. I mean, those things are -big-. Elks and deer, that is." She has a point, there.

Bright eyes glitter as she regards the beasts, dipping her head slowly. "I am not familiar with riding," Nasirri admits, fingers tightening imperceptibly beneath the folds of either sleeve. "But I shall try, if that is the desire."

The day's journey is a pleasant one, thankfully. The travel is easy overland, and the group arrives on the outskirts of the Feywood not too long after the mid-day meal. For the most part, there is little change in the Eldwyn ... except for a feeling - a feeling that things are different here and the Veil is thin.

Light Filters through the trees in pillars of gold, motes of dust, which sometimes upon closer inspection actually due appear to be a rare sylph that flees with a giggling chime once spotted. Wildlife is abundant here, whether because of the thinness of the Veil, or because there are protectors of the forest are hard to say.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Perception checks please."

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (13)+6: 19

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (5)+5: 10

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (7)+10: 17

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (10)+11: 21

You paged (Nasirri, Sharna) with 'The sounds of a babbling brook drift on the pleasant breeze. The air is sweet here in the Feywood, and every once in a while, you catch a note or two of music, coming from the same direction of the brook.'

You paged Kraken with 'The sounds of a babbling brook drift on the pleasant breeze. The air is sweet here in the Feywood, and every once in a while, you catch a note or two of music, coming from the same direction of the brook.'

From afar, Kraken could get a know/nature check? :)

Despite being unaccustomed to riding, Nasirri manages to maintain a careful balance, clasping with taut strength and without digging taloned feet into the animal's poor sides. As the hunt goes on, she hums softly to herself, the quietus of a gentle music.... Pausing with a blink as her head shifts, swift eyes flickering into the distance. "If I may ask," she whispers, voice a gentle murmur. "Of what significance is the music along the waters of the Feywood?"

Sharna's wary, a little tense, as the group travels - perhaps fearing the creatures in these woods may strike at her simply on account of their ties with her lighter-skinned kin. "Wait... do you hear that?" A pointed ear twitches, slightly, and she raises her head. "Sounds like... water? And music?" Gently slanted eyes flick over the rest of the group, as if wondering if she's imagining things, the magic of the place messing with her mind - or if someone else hears. Eyes narrow a tiny bit when Nasirri confirms that if she is, indeed, hallucinating - someone else is, too.

Alteri tried kicking Sharna off her horse, she really did. But that sneaky rogue has a love affair going on with Stupid, clambering on the moment the Eldanar lets her guard down to scrutinise the map they were given. Since the ride is kept at an easy pace over pleasant terrain, she has no hope of keeping the rogue off, short of applying bladed force. Looking unamused at this saddle-stealing interloper, she rumbles something at the half-elf. Pale gaze flicking then to the gently murmuring Egalrin, the Highborn cocks her head, attempting to catch what the others are pointing out. No luck.

GAME: Kraken rolls knowledge/nature: (3)+4: 7

Kraken nods as he holds up, "I agree, I hear it too, water and music. It's a shame that water is the best place to find thirsty deer, the music might drive them away. Maybe we could ask whoever is playing to stop for a while."

"Or investigate further," Nasirri remarks thoughtfully, gazing off towards the source of the distant song. Feathers shiver as she curves, turning back towards the group. "Moving further upriver is a possibility as well. Leave the singer to her song, and continue our path in another way?"

Snippets of song start to drift now, so that every ear can hear. Even Stupid seems to hear the song, ears twitching, and unconsciously turning towards the source of the noise.

The song itself, what can be heard, is hauntingly beautiful, alluring, yet not riotous enough to frighten potential prey away.

Alteri exchanges glances with the rest of the hunting party, "I'm of a thought to investigate, or pay respects, if such is due. Our goal, while aimed for good, may disrupt the forest. It behooves us to mind our manners." Too well-trained to hunch, the Highborn still appears a tad discomforted from the way her shoulders shift under her cloak. Familiar mostly with the physical realm, the warrior looks to the ones closer to the gods, Nasirri and Faiza, for final decisions.

"I'm not sure I want to risk interrupting any denizens of this place while they're having a bath." Sharna says, quietly. An ivory brow arches at Alteri's remark, and the girl stretches, leaning back in the motion almost enough to unseat Alteri. Almost. And then the music becomes louder. She's suddenly smiling, completely unconsciously, as she leans forward into a more neutral position. "It's nice, isn't it?" she says, a little dazedly, of the music. There's a pause, a freeze - a sudden shake of her head to clear it. "You know, I'm not so sure. I don't want to be some fairy's slave for the rest of my life." Wary. VERY wary.
She grabs for the horse's reins, but of course, Stupid's not likely to heed the command quite so readily in the circumstances.

The Egalrin listens to the music for a few moments more, clicking her beak in quiet chirr. "I agree," she says, leaning back upon her mount with a ripple of golden wings. "As said, it is best to pay our respects to the musician. Perhaps she may be able to guide our steps within the Feywood, if asked with courtesy." The avian head curves, tilts as she glances towards Sharna, eyes curving back to the wood with consideration. "But I will not press in this. My knowledge of the woodlands and those within is poor, at best."

Tch'ing at Sharna, Alteri's legs clamp down on Stupid's barrel. "Hold still, would you?" she grumps at the interloper on her mouth. Callused hands rescue Stupid's reins from the rogue. A good thing too, the blue roan was beginning to try sidestepping right on out of the forest. Tethered to Stupid's saddle, the mule simply munches on some undergrowth, waiting for a decision to be made.

Kraken keeps a tight grip on his mount's reins, one hand reaching down to pat the warhorse on the neck and remind him of his training. "Better to know what is out there than to continue in ignorance. A friend would be welcome, an enemy behind us a poor decision."

Sunlight bathes the wood in dapples, warming the world beneath the canopy of the trees. There is something ... ethereal about this place, mystical and more than natural. Why, even this late in the year there are butterflies dipping about blooming flowers which hang from trees, just as well as grow up from the ground.

The group moves ever closer to the sound of the water, the sound of the song, and never does it fail to stop singing - neither music nor brook. From just past a dipping willow's curtain of leaves, the light of afternoon sparkles and reflects brightly off the waters of the babbling brook, while soft grasses and mosses slip ever slightly downwards into the plane of the flowing water. The willow is large, it's leaves draping and swaying with the breeze as it moves as if dancing to the haunting melody being played. The source of the music is not seen at first, perhaps on the other side of the willow closer to the brook.

Kraken calls out, "Hello the minstrel, have you time to talk and share a drink with travelers?" Then he glances around towards the others and gives a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'well why not?' As he gives his horse a nudge to take him into the opening about the willow and around towards the side of it to circle around.

Perhaps there is something in the music affecting Stupid, for the animal's hooves pick and traverse in a most dainty way towards the source of the music. Meandering through the heavy shafts of green-tinted gold, Alteri finds herself trying to keep her breathing slow and even. Pausing by the chuckling brook, she waits to see what-all Kraken's call might stir.

Nasirri lets her mount carry her as close to the willow as she dares, pausing a distance back to dismount from the creature with a soft sigh of breath. "Thank you," she murmurs to the placid horse, brushing its mane before she gathers herself and her thoughts together. A tapping touch trails her fingers along her beak before she simply moves from beneath the shield of willow's leaves. A sparkle of sharp bemusement lingers in her eyes as Kraken calls out, and the silver-robed Egalrin turns her eyes towards the opposite bank. "We come as friends," she offers as well, liquid voice rising in turn.

GAME: Sharna rolls Will: (8)+3: 11 to Fiaol

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+1: (17)+1: 18 to Fiaol

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7 to Fiaol

GAME: Nasirri rolls Will: (6)+7: 13 to Fiaol

Sharna finally hops from the horse's back, settling lightly upon the unusually green grass below. "Our sincere apologies for interrupting your beautiful melody so. We don't mean to intrude - we're here on a... mission." the elf-girl adds in a milder voice to Kraken's call, perhaps hoping to, indeed, mollify the mysterious creature.

A brief flash of movement, and the song continues. There is a man sitting on the bank of the brook, half resting in the water- from the waist down. He plays a set of reed pipes, the haunting voices producing the gentle, lovely music. He has the angled features of an elf, with the pointed ears, his skin is warmed and kissed by the sun, and nearly as muscled as Kraken. The distinct difference, however, is the rams horns on his head which curve up then backwards in a non-threatening manner.

The man continues playing his song, but motions the group over, a smile glinting in his eyes as he points to a spread of late berries and fruit, along with a couple of bottles of what can only be wine.

You paged Kraken with 'Look! A satyr... not that you've seen one before or know what he is. But you do not feel hostile, or overly OH MY GOSH MY NEW BEST FRIEND, towards him. Though, he does have wine.'

GAME: Kraken rolls sense motive: (7)+0: 7 to fiaol

Smoothly dismounting, Alteri sports an uncharacteristically wide smile. The sort of smile she NEVER smiles. Stupid's reins are tossed carelessly aside, again uncharacteristic of the usually methodical to a fault, Highborn. Striding forth, she seems to have met an old friend, for she immediately moves with arms wide open, wishing to give the Satyr the world's biggest hug known to Eldanarkind.

GAME: Nasirri rolls Sense Motive: (2)+8: 10 to Fiaol

GAME: Alteri rolls Sense Motive: (17)+1: 18 to Fiaol

Kraken slides off his mount and drops the reins, leaving his steed as he steps forwards towards the spread slowly. He pulls out his own wineskin and smiles, "Looks like you've got quite a spread here. Hey Alteri, you know this guy, introduce us will ya?"

Bright feathers ripple as Nasirri clicks her beak in quiet reverence, a soft chirr at the player's gleaming song. Curiosity shows in the swift trace of her gaze, curved beak marking the passage of her focus before returning to the player with a quiet mirth. "We have found our musician," the Egalrin says with bemusement, hands curving beneath her robes as she bows reverently towards the figure. "Pray, greeting to you, and blessings. We mean no disrespect with our passage here." Bright eyes gleam as she beings her own careful movements forwward, eyes curving from calm steps to the musician's song and back again, her voice carrying that tune with a thrum of her own song.

"Kinda cute, isn't he?" Sharna whispers to Alteri, grinning just a little bit, a hit of white under the dark of her lips. Her nose scrunches cutely. "Not a fan of the horns so much, but." And with that, she traipses over - moving to hop across the brook and take a seat beside the man... kind of... without any of the fear from a moment ago. Legs fold under her. "Well, hi there." she greets. "I'm Sharna. These are my friends." A glance to the pipes. "You're quite talented with those."

"Ah," offers the horned man after he finally ends the song, letting it hang merrily in the air. "We have not met in the flesh and blood, but I sense an old soul, a kindred spirit," offers the man in his reverberating baritone. A smile is given to Alteri, who is at his side to hug him before he can even leave the river. "Alteri... is it? Yes... an old soul indeed, my friend," he offers, before looking over the others. "Mmm... yes, kindred spirits, indeed. Come, come, I have fruit and wine, drink and eat at your leisure," he drawls, eyes lingering on the Egalrin a moment, before nodding back to Kraken.

"Tuskatoo," rumbles the man, waving a hand in the air. "My name, my soul, are called the same. I am Tuskatoo." Then grass green eyes light upon Sharna and Tuskatoo gives her a humbled smile. Why, even the tips of his pointed ears blush a bit. "Ah, yes. A gift. Why thank you. Thank you. I would love to play more for you. Drink, eat, let us be merry for a time."

Kraken raises his wineskin then in a salute towards the man, "Let us drink then Tuskatoo, I am Kraken." Then the wineskin is to his lips and he takes a healthy couple of swallows of the low grade ale churned out by one of the cheaper Alexandrian taverns.

Warmth dances as the Egalrin steps over, plumage flared before she reins the wayward feathers back in. "Would that we could," Nasirri admits, gleaming feathers slickening with a shiver of sharp regret. "But I regret that we cannot remain long with the joy of your presence and song." She bows her head, quiet breath curving low. "There are many who need what aid we can bring them of the forest's bounty. Death will come, if we do not find food for the coming winter days." She bends gently, broad wings tightening with a whisper of living feathers. "Pray, please forgive, ser Tuskatoo, and aid us if you may."

"Awww. Come on! The deer aren't exactly going to go anywhere, are they? Just one more song? Two? Please?" Sharna gives the matronly Egalrin a pleading look, like a puppy begging to be let out for a walk. She's almost childlike, seated there, looking more content than she ever really does normally.

"Tuskatoo, yes, of course," Turning to Kraken, Alteri introduces the horned fellow to the tall barbarian, then beams at Sharna for what she whispered. Shaking her head, she makes a playful grab for Tuskatoo's pipes, "I just ate. Teach me how to play!" The Highborn adds her own devastatingly puppy dog eyes look to Sharna's, begging Nasirri for just another five minutes, pleeeeese mom? "Tuskatoo's going to teach me how to make the pretty music," Sharna gets a jealous glare, "Me first."

"You are my guest, and drink from your own skin! Nonesense!" offers Tuskatoo, tossing one of his skins towards Kraken. "I am a gracious host!" he implores. Green eyes look to Nasirri, and the man arches a brow upwards as he listens. "Mmmm, I see. Yes, there is good hunting here in the forest." He pauses, as if weighing the Egalrin's words. "So long as you take only what is needed, I see no harm in letting you hunt here. Now, please, just a drink. It seems I am about to give some lessons," he offers the last with a deep chesty laugh, before turning to look equally between Alteri and Sharna.

"There is a sping just upstream, see the steam there, that feeds into this river. Right here, the water is just the perfect temperature. Join me," he offers before reaching his other skin and holding it out to Alteri. Then he turns, and with a flick of his wrist, produces a luscious red berry to Sharna's lips.

"Alright, alright. I'm dying to see how you do anyway." Sharna agrees with Alteri, grinning wildly a moment. She gives the satyr a sideways glance, plucking the berry from his fingers with her hand rather than gathering it with her lips. She throws it in the air, then, adroitly catching it in her mouth and chewing. Foolishly trustworthy. Or, perhaps... well.

Nasirri traces sharp eyes from the wineskin to the forest; torn! She closes her eyes, bowing her head as fingers tighten around either wrist, loosen, weighing heavily as yellow-gold feathers ripple, whisper. "One song," she admits with a long, *long* sigh. Breath whistles across her nares before she returns her gaze much more sternly, and *much* more sharply towards the two women. "But after such, we must return to what we have sworn to accomplish! Besides," Feathers rustle anew as eshe continues, faint mirth returning to her features. "We can always return to this place, to meet Ser Tuskatoo once again." She curves towards the satyr, bending again in quiet reverence. "If it pleases, of course?"

Sticking a triumphant tongue out at Sharna, Alteri holds her hand out for the pipes. She gives a minute little wiggle where she sits by Tuskatoo, so excited is she to try to make the pretty sounds. Pouting, she paws the skin away, long arms reaching for the pipes with more intent now, "You said you'd give lessons!" Everyone gets a look, "He said he was giving lessons, wasn't he?" Tuskatoo gets a mighty frown, thoroughly ruined by the grin of pleasure she feels being in his company. Crowing in victory at Nasirri's capitulation, Alteri declares, "What I play doesn't count as part of the one song!"

Kraken catches the tossed wineskin and grins, "It'll be a party if I start drinking a second skin. Maybe after we've gotten what we need we can settle in for a night of revelry. I don't want people starving because I ended up drinking all of your wine, Tuskatoo." Then he eyes Alteri for just a moment, he's known her for a little while and he's never seen her so carefree. Definitely want to come back for a real party if she's loosening up, yep.

"Very well, and it would, indeed, be a pleasure if you were to return ... anytime, m'Lady," drawls the Satyr to Nasirri, before he starts laughing jovially at Alteri's willingness. "Here, here, a man must wet his lips after playing the pipes," he says before he takes the wineskin back and takes a deep drink. Then he turns, and with a smile offers it to Sharna, "m'Lady Fair, would you care for a drink of wine?" he asks.

Then it is back to Alteri he turns, finally handing over his beloved pipes. "Playing the pipes, is like caressing your love with your lips. That is how I can put so much emotion and beauty into my lips. I think of them as the most beautiful woman I have seen, and I play them as if I were kissing her," he drawls, shifting so that he is closer to Alteri's ear as he begins to instruct his newest student.

"If that is your wish," he then says over Alteri's shoulder to Kraken. "But the wine... ahhh, the wine. From the mountains, made of grapes kissed with the first frost, so they are all the more sweet. Such a wine... is not easily found," he notes, before smiling back at Alteri with a great deal of warmth.

GAME: Sharna rolls Fortitude: (20)+3: 23 to Fiaol

You paged Sharna with 'You aren't drunk! But it's GOOD STUFF!'

Alteri hardly hears Tuskatoo's instructions, she is too busy being smug at getting to play the pipes first. The fighter inhales a huge breath, looks for the mouthpiece and just lets all the air her mighty lungs have stored up, through the poor pipes. Hopefully it is of extremely sturdy make, because THERE SHE BLOWS! PHEWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

Sharna giggles at Alteri, giving her a curious glance. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you that relaxed." she voices Kraken's thoughts, idly accepting the wineskin thrust her way and taking a swing readily. "Oh gods. That's really good." she says of the wine, glancing down at the wineskin. "You should try it." she assures her companions, happily. Thank the gods, she doesn't look any more distraught or giggly than she did a moment ago. ... Of course, that isn't saying much.
And then, then she drops it in order to cover her very sensitive ears, cringing and gritting her teeth.

An avian wince... It is eyes widening in shock, beak parting as the razor gaze stares, feathers slickening down like a blanket across the forehead! Nasirri all but cringes at Alteri's attempt at playing the pipes, closing her beak again with a *click*!

"Very..." the Egalrin begins, trailing off as she swallows her words, searching for another. "...nice attempt," she adds, shaking her head with a shiver. "Perhaps it is Sharna's turn?" she suggests. Quickly. Pointedly. IMMEDIATELY.

Kraken grits his teeth together at that sound, "Alrighty Alteri... maybe you need to practice playing those things off in a room. With a door. And some heavy blankets over the windows. By Kor that was loud!" Then he eyes the flask tossed him, "Maybe a swallow on the hunt or two wouldn't hurt..."

"A little over enthusiastic," rumbles Tuskatoo as he gently tries to reach out and pull the pipes away from Alteri's lips. The Satyr then shifts so that he is nearly completely behind Alteri now, one hand resting gently on a shoulder, the right hand then sliding along the woman's arm to where she holds the pipes. "Place them near your lower lip," he says, softening his voice as he leans in, a whisper trying to close on Alteri's ear. "Just a breath ... like this," he offers, before letting out a soft caress of air from his own lungs.

"Try that... then it shall be Sharna's turn," he rumbles, turning to smile at the other woman. Another flick of the wrist, and this time an apple is produced and he holds it out to his next student. "For your journey, if you are not staying long," he offers.

"Please, have as much as you want. I absolutely insisted on it, both of you," Tuskatoo offers, smiling at Nasirri and Kraken. "Perhaps it will help ease the ... awkwardness of lessons?" he suggests with a throaty rumbling laugh.

The Highborn directs a lofty look towards Sharna, "That is because you are mean to me, Tuskatoo is not." The horned man is given a liquid-eyed look of gratitude. "No, no, I got this." Alteri insists when people start threatening to make her stop, sharp elbows ensuring she gets all the space around her and no one tries to take Tuskatoo's pipes from her. "I was holding it all wrong, that's it, that's..." the touches, though originating from her BEST FRIEND FOREVER, are strange, alien, and when the man's voice susurrates in her ear, she stiffens and squirms away.

A hand is held out to keep that distance sacrosanct. Her smile is less sure, now, "I'll try, just... don't do that again." A fleeting frown slips across her angular features, why did she say that? Shaking her head, she tries again. Sadly, being distracted with the unfamiliar, the next attempt comes out even worse, with shrieks and screeches peppering the air. Even her own be-charmed ears suffer, and, thoroughly upset with herself, she throws that pipes back at Tuskatoo, rampant, uncontrolled emotions coursing through her form and lending far too much strength to her piqued endeavour.

"I'm not much for music myself." Sharna says, though she does accept the apple. She flips it onto the back of her hand, graceful motion letting it tumble the length of her arm, across the back of her neck, and down the other arm in turn. It is grasped in the opposite hand at the end of the journey. "But I'll happily listen to you play, Tusky." A soft smile is given to the satyr. Hunting is boring -anyway-. "I mean, I guess I could try." she considers, spinning the apple idly on the tip of her index finger as she ponders. "Never really had much chance to." And then the apple is nearly crushed in her hand as the cacophony of Alteri attempting to play the pipes continues. Her teeth grind. Noisily. A vein pulses in her forehead.

"You are most gracious," the Egalrin chirrs in return, the touch of rose dancing along her nares. She steps across to a near place, pausing only to search out a bowl from the low pack at her side. Smooth, shallow, she proves its use in a few brief movements- a gentel twist to unstopper one of the wineskins, adding a portion of its contents to the dark wooden bowl with a sigh of relish.... and another, feather-slickened cringe at the sounds from Alteri.

"Ceinara bless us with your favor," she whispers, murmurs, begs... Eyes closed as she drinks from her bowl with a careful grace.

You paged Nasirri with 'Strone wine. DC 15 Fort save, please. And privately roll it.'

GAME: Nasirri rolls Fortitude: (20)+5: 25 to Fiaol

The oiled barbarian decides to take a taste of the wine from Tuskatoo, anything to drive away the noise ringing in his ears from that attempt at playing. Well, a taste is a couple of hearty gulps, but that's not so much compared to Kraken's large frame. "Can we skip the music lessons for a bit? They're certainly making sure there is no game around for anyone."

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+6: (20)+6: 26 to Fiaol

"Now now, m'Lady of the Golden Feathers," Tuskatoo offers to Nasirri, wincing at Alteri's second attempt, "I did promise to give lessons. And once I've made a promise," he offers with a wave of his hand.

Green eyes look at Alteri curiously, and the satyrn considers a moment, before attempting to put his hand on her knee in a friendly fashion, a companionly gesture. "Pipes are one of the easiest instruments to make, and one of the most difficult to master. Do not be disuaded and feel rejected, m'Lady. I have been playing the pipes for as long as I can remember."

Tuskatoo turns to look at Sharna, then smiles at her antics with the apple. The pipes are inspected, before the Satyr moves and slides next to the nimble woman. "Now, as I said to Alteri, the same is true for you. Just a whisper of a breath," he suggests, leaning close to make certain the pipes are positioned correctly.

Kraken finishes his swallows and smiles, "Well, that's not bad. Strong enough for a good drink.. but way too sweet. A girl could drink this stuff, it's got no real kick to make your tongue remember it." He stoppers the wine and turns to get his horse back in gear, "Alright, so, we going to get to the hunting soon?" His real reason to get away from the next round of pan pipe practicing while he still has intact ears.

Nasirri positively thrums with the affectation, bright eyes curving closed as she finishes the bowl's contents with a sigh at the welcome heat. "A pleasant mix," she accedes, a warble in her voice before it normalizes once again. She basks, relishing the taste before her eyes curve open once more, a breath of regret before she moves to clean the dark bowl, sliding it away. "One more," she affirms, "And then we must continue our hunt. It would be unkind to stay..." Sharp warmth gleams in her gaze as she casts Alteri a glance, eyes curving to mighty Kraken in his own turn. "Or to allow a quest to support those in aid to be set aside for an evening's revelry."

Sulking up a storm, Alteri moves away from where Sharna is getting ALL of Tuskatoo's attention, and plops her butt down. Plucking at grass that is inexplicably still flourishing in this time of season, she tosses the remnants into the stream. If she should catch any looking her way, she would return a 'what are you looking at?' glare to them. No, grass plucking is too pathetic. Needing to do more to let out her anger with herself, her large bastard blade is drawn. Yes, take that, you wicked grass. STAB.

Sharna lifts a hand to support the pipes, not quite shying away from the horned man as her companion had. She exhales a gentle breath down one of the reeds, and a crisp little note emits from the instrument.

"Doesn't seem too complicated." she remarks, taking the pan pipes more fully in her own grasp and managing something that actually sounds like a little melody. Not a true song, no, but it doesn't put needles through the eardrums and despite being slow and uncertain, it manages to flow alright. That done, she grins... only to glance over at the sound of the grass being savaged.

"Excuse me a second, cutie." she says to Tuskatoo, handing him his instrument back and hopping to her feet, striding over to Alteri. "What's wrong?" she asks, lowering to a crouch to be eye level with Alteri - actually sounding a little concerned.

"Please stop beheading my friends," drawls Tuskatoo calmly, patiently. Though he does offer up a deep sigh as Sharna excuses herself from his presence, and Nasirri appears to be packing things away. "Some have a natural talent in one thing, only to find something they cannot do, others excel at," he notes, trying to offer calming wisdom.

Reaching forward, Tuskatoo takes a handful of berries and rises, gliding easily to Nasirri, and offering them to her. "I am always honored to meet one of the Pheonix' Chosen," he rumbles to the Egalrin with his warm grin.

Finally he turns to Kraken and laughs. "Next time, then, I will be certain to have some dwarven spirits with me! Something with true fire to put in the belly. Will that do, my friend?" he asks, his grin growing lopsided.

You paged (Nasirri, Alteri, Sharna) with 'And note... if any of you want to come back and find Tuskatoo sometime... with good intentions, he'll be here. If he sees murder on your face, this little goat-boy is running! ;) So feel free to use him as an NPC as you need.'

Kraken laughs warmly, "Yes, the dwarves do know how to brew something with more kick and fire to it. And they know how to drink it too." He mounts up onto his horse and starts sharing a few impatient looks with everyone else. "Now I know we're having fun and all, but can't this wait till after we've gone hunting? I mean, that's the order of things, you make things bleed and then you have the party."

Nasirri's faint blush warms like the heart of a star! The practical part of her thoughts exclaims that they *should* be on their way, for the sake of the hunt and the rest of the journey...

...and another part flails and squeals and chirrs at the sole, magnificent attention!

The priestess rises slowly, bowing as she acceptsthe gift with every care. "May she continue to watch over you with all heart," Nasirri returns, eyes a bright gleam as she cradles the berries in her hand. She makes a brief ceremony of placing them into her pack, careful to secure them tightly. And, in turn, reaching up along her neck, to steal a golden feather from amid the many with a sigh of breath.

"A token," she chirrs, offering it to Tuskatoo. "May we meet again in better times."

Glancing back over her shoulder at Tuskatoo, she reluctantly ceases her murderising of flora. She looks around for something else to smack with her sword, and Sharna decides to get within arm's range. Immediately, muscles clamp down hard on the urge to swing. There is a dissonance, and she blinks foggy eyes at the half-elf appearing concerned for her. The leather grip under her hand creaks from pressure. "Everything." she mumbles, then adds, "Nothing." This is a Site of Failure & Shame for Alteri now. Much as she likes Tusktatoo, she doesn't want to be here anymore. "I don't want to be here anymore," she grumps, then looks plaintively at the half-elf, nevermind that -this- one underlined her Fail so clearly. "Can we go now?" she whines.

"Are we leaving already? You -promised- we'd stay for a song." Sharna offers, biting her lip. There's a glance at Alteri. At the satyr. At Alteri again.
Friendship forged through battle and pain battles magical influence... and wins out.
"Okay. Let's get back to the hunting thing." she concedes softly, offering Alteri an encouraging smile and a hand to help her up.
Whether her aid is accepted or not, she asides to the Eldanar: "I'll just go say goodbye." The mild words spoken, she saunters over to the Satyr, standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for the wine and the music, Tusky." A gloved hand reaches up, index finger tracing the contour of his jaw. "You know... if only you weren't so hairy... and your legs weren't bent the wrong way..." she murmurs with a wry grin, but then dances away to... well, of course, steal Alteri's horse again, or at least hitch a ride. A hand lifts, fingers wiggling as she waves farewell to the faun.

Tuskatoo offers a graceful bow to Nasirri as he gently accepts the token. "A most honored gift," he whispers to her as he straightens, holding the feather to his chest for a moment.

"If that is your wish, m'Lady Alteri, then you are free to go, of course. I would rather you stay, and I would spend all the hours of day and night needed to teach you to play the pipes as you wished," he intones, offering her a bow as well. "However, your quest is a noble one, and one that suits my forest better than rampant hunting and intrusions. So I see no reason to keep you from it."

Then Sharna is dancing over and kissing his cheek. The Satyr laughs, the baritone resonating and echoing throughout the forest. "Most gracious and beautiful Sharna," he offers, with a flourished bow. "Allow me, please, to try and change your mind on that at some point. I am a very persuasive man when I wish to be," he drawls.

"Until we meet again, my friends. Happy hunting."

The sun continues to dapple through the leaves of the Feywild as the group wanders away from the brook and Tuskatoo, returning to their quest. Soon the memories of friendship fade from the minds of the women in the group, perhaps leaving them befuddled, confused, or angry as awareness of such friendliness with a stranger sinks in. Kraken, on the other hand, was unaffected by the Satyr's song, and continues unaffected still as the group delves deeper into the Feywild searching for deer or elk to hunt.

"I know that everyone was having a good time, but we really should get some food. There were a lot of expectant looking faces watching us leave. Small faces. I would hate to let them down." The big barbarian says as he rides along slowly, looking for sign of game as they trek deeper into the woods.

To spare the distraught Alteri, Sharna's since taken to striding beside her and her steed rather than stealing a seat upon it. Stopping midway through munching the apple the satyr had given her for the journey, her eyes narrow dangerously at the fruit as the magic evaporates, leaving behind conflicting thoughts and feelings. She looks... confused, mostly, puzzled, throwing the remainder of the half-eaten apple into the bushes for reasons that do not entirely make sense to her. The resident insects and small animals will no doubt be quite happy with the gift.

For herself, Nasirri is content in quiet peace. Never pleasant to be charmed, but no harm was done to the priestess' thought and concern...

... though, perhaps, other's sense of decorum did not fare so well!

Humming quietly, innocently to herself, the golden Egalrin basks serenely as she sits balanced atop her mount, following along with the hunt's progression. "Of course, noble hunter. We return to the task necessary..."

The confused discontent permeating Alteri's being translates to a marked stiffness in her posture as she rides astride Stupid. With the dawning realisation that she -had- been acting completely out of character, the Highborn stiffens for entirely different reasons now. Slowly, the glazed sheen over her eyes has receded and she glances to Sharna, Nasirri, then to Kraken; a markedly subtle motion, the Eldanar being uncertain of what-all magicks had affected her. Affected them? The hands on her reins move in silent handspeech. "Of... course, Master Kraken," she says, cautiously. She notes the apple Sharna throws away, and frowns slightly, but says nothing. Her breastplate shifts as she inhales a large, cleansing breath and shrugs the moment off. It can wait, hungry mouths, cannot. Applying herself to the task at hand, she begins searching for animal tracks.

Kraken grins a bit, as he either doesn't realize how uncomfortable people are as effects fade, or he's doing a good job of ignoring their discomfort and focusing at the task at hand. He hops down to look for tracks from foot for a bit, looking to see just enough old tracks to justify slowing down and looking more intently for game tracks.

Nasirri leaves the Eldanar in peace, for now, perhaps uncharacteristically. Bright feathers rustle in soft sympathy, but the feelings of the heart are never a course others may have mapped for them; she leaves poor Alteri to her own ends, at least until the warri--

She pauses as Kraken hops down, pausing as thought's train and sharp eyes are both cuved towards the huntsman. "Have we found what we seek?" she asks, warbling voice dropping low.

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (1)+11: 12

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (9)+10: 19

GAME: Alteri rolls Survival: (14)+6: 20

GAME: Kraken rolls survival: (1)+5: 6

Sharna's thin, white brow quirks up at Alteri. The corner of her lips tugs upwards - and there's a single gesture, a single graceful sign in reply, before she focuses on what they're actually there for. "The sooner we find the deer or whatever, the sooner we can go back." she mutters. There's only one problem - she's a city girl, and she hasn't a damned clue what to look for. It's no surprise, thus, that she ends up fruitlessly glancing about and not noticing a thing a more nature-savvy individual easily would.

Kraken pauses and holds up a hand, "Ah ha... here we go, this is just what we're looking for I think this is antelope, several of them if I'm not wrong." He squats down and looks off to one side, "Going that way, about a day ago."

Alteri notes Sharna's handsign, at least, one might think she has, by the way a muscle in her jaw tics. Fortunately, Kraken is dismounting and forcing her attention to things other than the very recent past. Callused fingers previously strangling at Stupid's reins, creakily release said leather. Polished boots hit the oddly verdant ground, striding to take the Highborn to where the axe-wielder is. Squinting her mundane, human eyes a mite, she attempts to work out what the barbarian is referring to. Sable bangs swaying, Alteri gives a negative shake of her head, "Nay, the tracks are muddied. 'Tis a shared trail. We wish to head that way for the herd of antelopes, the other way will gain us honey badgers." This she says in a neutral tone of voice, still fighting back the urge for massive self-recriminations with regard to her conduct with Tuskatoo.

Nasirri keeps her counsel, observing the two hunters in their natural habitat. Much as with the passing of signs, the Egalrin can see the passing of remarks, but does not understand their meaning. "I leave the matter to your capable hands," she says quietly, eyes bright.

Kraken eyes the tracks again, actually giving his chin a rub, "Honey badgers you say? Just don't see that... guess I've never tracked them before." He shrugs and moves back to his horse and slides back into the saddle, "Think we should go after the antelope, or is the trail looking too cold to you, Alteri?"

"I didn't even know there's antelopes in these parts." Sharna says, quietly. She glances down at the tracks as they're pointed out - but really, to her, it's all just tears and scruffs in the soil that mean nothing at all. Blue eyes flick between the two trackers. Little choice but to follow the lead of the more educated.

At the Egalrin's words, Alteri straightens, only to afford Nasirri a respectful dip of her head. The planes of her angular features are cast in a determined light; she means to make reparations for her lapse, now, if possible. To Kraken, she gives a twitch of one shoulder, her version of a shrug. "Honey badgers are afeared throughout the forest," Her eyes flick to Sharna, "Perhaps the antel..." her eyes narrow, "Wait." Taking a single side step, she stares intently at some more track, "Elk," her low voice rings out triumphantly. "A very large one."

Nasirri stares at the tracks for a moment, trying to search out whcih one belongs to the creature in question. A shame that humans have such flexible eyes; they do not point properly to watch they gaze upon....! "Nearby?" she asks, voice hovering above a chirr as she asks as softly as she dares. "And dangerous?" she adds, feathers rousing with a ripple of flickering quillions.

Kraken smiles at the news, "Large elk, that'll feed quite a few people if we can bring one down." He shifts to ride forward so he can look for Elk tracks towards the indicated direction, but after his confusion on the antelope he doesn't move out right away, waiting for Alteri to start moving first.

"... How big, exactly?" Sharna feels compelled to ask, eyes flicking between Alteri and the ground, the bark of surrounding trees where no doubt there are antler-marks she simply isn't catching. It's not the goodness of her heart or the desire to feed people, no - more the desire to not get trampled by an enormous elk. Gods know if she's even seen an elk before.

Alteri doesn't return Kraken's smile, but the colour of her eyes does deepen in pleased assessment of his statement. "Indeed." Glancing back to the other females in their hunting group, she nods, "Northwards. They look very fresh," she points to the tracks in question, the dampness of the dirt kicked up, and the spoor a little further onwards, still warm enough to make more sensitive noses twitch or flare. "As tall as I am at the shoulders," she offers Sharna whilst signaling to Stupid to follow. With her mount at her heels, the Highborn quirks a brow, "It isn't rare for their antlers to reach ten feet across."

Bright feathers quiver as the Egalrin's wings shift. A dozen questions to ask! But Nasirri relents, if only with the greatest reluctance; silence must be maintained, if their prey is to be captured forthwith.... though such does little to comfort as she gives a faint, whistling sigh. "Please lead," she murmurs, beak clicking with a sharp whisper. "I shall try to be as quiet as one may."

GAME: Kraken rolls stealth: (10)+1: 11

GAME: Alteri rolls Stealth: (9)+-1: 8

GAME: Sharna rolls Stealth: (20)+11: 31

GAME: Nasirri rolls Stealth: (14)+3: 17

"... that's pretty damn big." Sharna says, grabbing her crossbow and doing what comes naturally. -Hiding-. She's... not so happy about the idea of an animal of that size bearing down on her. Into the shadows, the foliage, darting between cover of the trees, crossbow ready to fire.

Sharna's words finally dig out a faint smile from the Highborn. "Faint heart never won fair lady," Alteri drawls, "Nor fed the masses." Pausing, she takes stock of the direction the air is moving in, "We shall want to remain downwind of it. It certainly hasn't lived to this size being unwary of hunters."

Kraken keeps on the trail, getting one of his throwing axes ready, a muttered thought that maybe he should get himself a bow at some point muffled into the mane of his steed. He thinks about the size of the elk and gets a second axe ready, leaving his knees to guide his horse along.

Nasirri's eyes widen as she stares out at the forest, sharp beak marking the trace of her gaze, a burning search. "Great Roc," she murmurs, voice soft. "Sky Hunter. Lend me your grace, that I may see your gift for hunter's cause...." A silent shiver before she stills, perched upon her mount, bright wings a faint shimmering as she drarws nearer the great oaks' shadowy fields...

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (1)+10: 11

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (3)+11: 14

Alteri remains on foot as the primary tracker. Stupid has done this with her mistress many times, and the animal remains quiscient whilst the Eldanar does her creepy, tippy-toe thing.

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (16)+5: 21

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (2)+6: 8

Autumn seems to be coming late to the Feywild, which is likely a good thing, as certain Eldanar seem to be finding every leaf and twig to step on. However, Alteri is able to lead the group deeper northwards into the wood, before the sun glows ahead as the canopy breaks, exposing a clearing with lush green grass.

And the biggest dang elk anyone has ever seen!

Easily 7 feet at the shoulders, with antler's 12 feet wide, this elk has at least seven points to it, and a coat that glistens gold and bronze in the warm light of the lowering sun.

"The Holy Order has surely blessed all of Alexandria..." Alteri breathes in reverence, her eyes widening at the sight of the magnificent beast. Conventional hunting tools will not do for one so noble as this. Head borne down, she signals Stupid to stay far back and swiftly closes the distance with the great creature. "We seek not your death, but the life of many." she says once close to the elk, her bastard blade drawn and held at the ready.

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5-4: (7)+2+5+-4: 10

KA-THUNK.
The shadows of the forest let loose a crossbow bolt. Aimed at the elk's hindquarters rather than the main bulk in an effort to spare Alteri of it, the projectile screams through the air and embeds itself in the tree just behind the elk, where it vibrates uselessly. There's a muted curse in Sildanyari. The crossbow is left behind, replaced with the dusky-bladed twin swords she's more used to employing, as Sharna dashes forward to close some - but not all - of the distance.

Kraken sees the Elk close at hand so he drops his hand axes and hurtles from his mount, closing rapidly with the big critter with his large axe. Perhaps it's the desire to hunt down the elk, perhaps he's ticked off at no one noticing his well oiled pecs, but either way he is snarling a bit much and has a rather nasty case of the twitches on his left eye going on.

A forest of surprises, wonders to behold-- Nasirri stares as autumn colors give way to the great flow of colours, the sweeping brushstrokes of evening upon the animal's magnificent pelt. "Praise be, Cernan, Ceiwen..." she whispers, sharp beak parted in a silent gasp. Heartbeats pass before she moves with a shiver of regret, slender hands moving alongside to draw forth a trio of heavy weight, smooth stone orbs connected at a central line. "Blessings be on stroke and aim..."

Dismounting with care, she calls her blessings as she begins to move, carefully closer as her companions move in equal turn.

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (11)+4: 15

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (20)+9: 29

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (8)+9: 17

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4+4: (2)+4: 6

GAME: Fiaol rolls 2d6+7: (7)+7: 14

As Alteri and Kraken move up next to the buck, the startled animal rears, brown beady eyes rolling dangerously in the back of it's head as it pummels the barbarian with his hooves. Falling back to the ground, the massive elk then snorts and starts swinging it's antlers side to side, raking and catching Alteri painfully on the side.

After contact is made, the massive beast lifts it's head, those brown beady eyes wild and fearful, before it bugles clearly, the sound of the trumpeting elk echoing throughout the Feywood itself.

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d10+15: (2)+15: 17

You paged Alteri with 'Roll me a private perception please!'

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (6)+5: 11 to Fiaol

GAME: Sharna rolls Acrobatics: (3)+11: 14

Alteri braces as the mighty elk trumpets its call. Whether it was a challenge or something else is moot, for the animal's lashing hooves signal enough, how it shall meet this intrepid band of interlopers in its domain. She doesn't have time to wince at the crunching hit Kraken is given, before she must guard against antlers that swoop down and threaten to lift her right off her feet.

A dull clang rings through the clearing, her mutely glowing blade just able to fend off the first slash of the horns. Not so lucky at her second attempt to avoid being hit, she feels the animal score deeply into her internals. Biting back the groan of pain, the temporary loss of breathe, she grits her teeth and pushes off from the antlers her sword was tangled with, using the momentum to fuel her returning swing. The blade scores a massive wound in the animal's golden pelt.

Lithe and light as a hunting cat, Sharna continues her dash, cloak whipping and billowing behind her as she moves. She runs right past the furious melee, somersaulting into position behind the bucking, panicked animal instead to provide her allies an advantage. The swords are brought forward, her body like a serpent coiled to strike. Poor, poor elk. "I'm pretty sure this isn't the proper way to hunt elk." she mutters, mostly to herself.

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+9+2-1: (7)+9+2+-1: 17

<OOC> Fiaol says, "+2 for flanking?"

<OOC> Kraken says, "+2 was for increased str while rage, so er, +2 more, so a 19"

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d12+13: (2)+13: 15

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (14)+6: 20 to fiaol

You paged Kraken with 'It should have done a LITTLE more damage than it did. How odd.'

GAME: Nasirri rolls 1d20+6-4: (12)+6+-4: 14

<OOC> Nasirri says, "It is a touch attack... I shall take the Luck reroll."

GAME: Nasirri rolls 1d20+6-4: (18)+6+-4: 20

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (1)+4: 5

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (18)+9: 27

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4+4: (1)+4: 5

GAME: Fiaol rolls 2d6+7: (10)+7: 17

Kraken twitches a bit more, then lets the elk have it with the two handed axe. It should have cut the thing in half, but the blade just leaves a smaller wound along the flank of the beast. There's no exposition, just a roar of, "mmm! Jerky!"

Nasirri's feathers slicken back as she sees the sudden fury the great elk unleashes, caught by offguard as the animal moves so viciously! The bola in her grasp is momentarily forgotten; instead, the Egalrin raises her hand, murmuring a prayer of swiftness. Fire gleams as she closes in, a bare thirty feet before she unleashes the firebright shard of energy from her palm. Heat flashes forward in searing array, to scorch and sizzle and singe across the animal's right flank.

Now the beast is panicked, that is the only word to describe it. Surrounded by the scent of humans, the scent of hungry and dangerous humans at that, the large elk buggles again loudly.

One hoof is then shoved at Kraken several times until it connects. The elk then drops it's head and kicks backwards, bucking at Sharna, missing. Finally the massive horns swing from side to side once more, again raking across Alteri's side - blood is flowing freely there now.

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+10+2: (8)+10+2: 20

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d10+15: (7)+15: 22

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5+1+2-2: (4)+2+5+1+2+-2: 12

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5+1+2-2: (18)+2+5+1+2+-2: 26

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, 1 hit."

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d6+1+2d6: (4)+1+(8): 13

The hurt coming from multiple sides seems to lend an even greater rage to the elk's attacks. Almost brought to her knees by the King of the Forest's returning swing, the Highborn lets out a pained grunt as huge antlers swipe her right across the face. Spitting out blood, more pours down the gash over her eye. This must be done quickly if she is to remain standing.

With eerie calm, a counterpoint to Kraken's hunger for jerky, the Eldanar lets the hilt of her blade slip down further, lessening the length of her swings. Delicately, her other hand guides the lionhead pommel of her sword, a deceptive picture, as the shorter arc allows for sterner strength to be fed into the blade's motion. Letting loose a staccato shout, Alteri cleaves deeply into the animal's neck, the resulting gush of blood mingling with that which the elk had drawn from her.

Sharna ducks beneath the dangerous buck of the animal, her body twisting easily away from the blow. A blade lashes, an effort to retaliate as its legs retreat, but finds no purchase in the speed and frenzied, jerky motions of the panicked animal. The woman re-centers, eyes narrowing - the elk stills for a moment, a fatal moment, and the blade is brought into its side, just where its leg meets its body. The bite of the sword may not be huge, but it is precise, and a torrent of blood follows the weapon being pulled out with a twist. The creature trembles uncertainly on slender legs before collapsing in the grass.

Kraken pulls back his axe for a big chop into the elk when the thing finally goes down. There's a moment of incredulity on the barbarian's face, then a exhalation as he loses his grip on his inner rage. All is right in the world now, the dire enemy, the pec ignoring elk is at his feet, bloody and dead. And looking rather tasty for dinner tonight. "That's going to take some work to get home..."

Nasirri shivers as the last blow is struck; bright feathers quiver on edge as the Egalrin draws her hands back, a ruffled fury from tip to toe before she manages some semblance of calm, trying to ease the wild hue of bright crested array. "Not so much as you might think," the priestess chirrs, eyes still gleaming with fiery delight. A long breath soars in, exhaled with a reverent, worshipful strength; curiosity steals her closer to the fallen animal, pausing to brush her fingers through the coarse fur with a murmur. "If you will prepare the means to carry the elk," she continues, "Then Ceiwen shall provide the means to carry our fallen prey. And now..."

Letting the moment slip from her, she turns towards the wounds infliced, wounds suffered. It is time to heal.

Sharna pokes one of the animal's hind legs with the tip of her boot. It does not stir. The twin swords are sheathed, the crossbow gathered - and gently slanted eyes fall on the battered, bleeding Alteri. "Are you alright?" she asks the Eldanar, concerned, moving to her side so as to provide something - or at it may be, someONE - to lean upon should Alteri require it.

Despite her heavy wounds, Alteri is saddened to see the efforts of the group pay off. As the light dims in the great creature's eyes, she lays a hand upon its shuddering flank. "Forgive us, friend. Your sacrifice shall not go to waste." Her hand continues to stay with the animal, moving with it as mighty legs lose strength, lose life, and fold to the forest floor. Using that same hand to keep herself standing, she turns numbly to look confusedly at the questioning Sharna. Then the battle's adrenaline drains away and she stumbles against the smaller rogue. "The antlers... Greyfeather..." disjointed mumblings accompany the highborn's efforts to remain upright.

Kraken looks over the massive beast and nods, "He was a noble one. No fear and running when faced with danger. Though I suppose it should have. It will feed many though and clothe a few. And the antlers will pry coins from someones tight fist to feed more."

Nasirri nods quietly, eyes glancing from Kraken to Alteri with quick regard. "Then let us be swift," she says, stowing the bolas away before moving to cast the healing energies. "The sooner we return, the sooner that some may rest tonight fed..." She pauses, voice more quiet as she murmurs sa breath. "For a time."

Sharna doesn't buckle too much under Alteri's weight. Valiantly, she provides her wounded comrade support, draping one of Alteri's arms about her shoulders. The height difference is a problem, certainly, but she's doing her best. At the swordswoman's words, eyes flick to the beast and its majestic antlers - soaked with Alteri's blood as they may be.

"She has a friend who'd really like those antlers." the grey-skinned half-elf explains to the other two members of the group, mildly. "Would either of you mind letting her have them? I think she deserves them." she opines with a small smile. Alteri's blood soaks into her clothing as she helps the Eldanar towards her horse.

Kraken gives a nod, "They'd make an impressive battle helm, so if you'd likethem, then certainly they are yours." He goes to his horse and starts with the poles and netting, setting them up to take his place on his mount so that the warhorse can drag the bulk of the weight of the elk.

Nasirri attends to healing the unfortunate warrior for a few moments, letting the touch of healing magic flow. Quiet flames soothe bloodloss, bruises, the crack and weight of antler and hoof; a few bandages are added in turn, a moment's quiet nod before the Egalrin turns to Kraken's mount for its own blessing. Few words, but swift ones--- the magic is come and gone with a touch of fingers, a quiet breath.

By the blessings of Nasirri's gods, Alteri's colour returns, allowing her to cease being an awkward burden to Sharna. "Many thanks, Mistress Nasirri," voice quiet in the wake of a royal death, the Highborn straightens, giving both the Egalrin and half-Elf grateful looks. A few cautious movements then, testing the bandages. "You have a deft touch," she compliments the Egalrin.

Her main hand had instinctively kept a deathgrip on her sword all this while. With the worst of her wounds seen to, she now painstakingly takes a moment to clean her blood-stained blade with a handful of dry grass. Sharna's words cause her to blink. Oh, yes, she'd thought about that, but hadn't realised thought was given voice in her moment of weakness. She glances abashedly at the others, rubbing at her neck whilst mumbling, "I would... like to purchase the antlers. As Master Kraken has said, it would fetch fair coin to feed more mouths and fie that I would claim them as a right," At this, she gives Sharna a mildly exasperated look. That look turns into puzzlement when Kraken mentions something about using them for a helm.

Sharna helps Alteri up onto Stupid, striding beside the horse for most of the journey and only stealing a seat for brief spells when fatigue from walking catches up to her. Once back in the city, she becomes visibly more relaxed.

A small grin emerges on the Mul'niessa-blooded half-elf's face - slightly wicked at the edges - as the party strides into Alexandria. "You know, I've changed my mind." she drawls at Alteri. "I think I'll take your offer of repayment." The impish grin flares. "But not now - I desperately need a hot bath and a drink. I'll let you handle the skinning and other stuff - I'll find us a buyer for the pelt." And with those words and a wiggle of nimble fingers, she's striding off into the night.

Now, all that is left, is gutting the creature, and tying it up to be hauled back to Alexandria. It takes longer to reach Alexandria, even with Nasirri's prodigious spellcasting, than it did to reach the clearing, simply because of the bulk that is being carried behind - avoiding rocks and trees and the like.

Along the way, the Cleric of the Pheonix offers words of encouragement, beauty, and healing. However, cold does begin to creep in, despite Nasirri's efforts to keep it away, darkness has spread out across the land. Several hours past full dark, the group finally makes their way to the city gates, shut for the moment, but just beyond them warmth and comfort are waiting.

It takes some swift words, and compliments given by the silver-tongued cleric, and finally the guards open the gates, letting the group in. After all, this was an errand of mercy, and mercy is what many in Alexandria need now.
[[Category:Admin]]

PrP: Fey-tasia

2011-10-25T21:40:24Z

Alariel: LOGGIE!!!!!!

<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
== Log Info ==
*'''Title''': A Little Batty
*'''Emitter''': [[Fiaol]]
*'''Characters''': [[Kraken]], [[Nasirri]], [[Alteri]], [[Sharna]]
*'''NPCs''': [[Fiaol]]
*'''Place''': Alexandros - Feywood
*'''Time''': Oct, 27, 2011
*'''Summary''': Food is scarce, and Fiaol has organized at least this group to go into the Feywild for food.
*'''APL''': 3.75/4
*'''Encounter 1''': Satyr – RP Encounter CR 4
*'''Encounter 2''': Elk (Megaloceros(CR4) + Primative(+1 CR) + Feytouched(+1CR)) CR 6
</div>

There is a crispness to the air, a hint of cold, despite the gloriously bright colors of autumn with the sun rising up in the sky. The sky, itself, is a most gorgeous blue, contrasting with the red, orange and yellow leaves which are turning, signally the impending winter. That crispness in the air ... smells like frost. Just a hint, there's no frost yet. But it is coming.

And that frost and true cold bode ill for the mass of refugees which have found their way to Alexandria and the borders of Alexandros, seeking shelter from the ravages of war and the doom of Taara brought upon all the lands. People fearing, hungering, crying for liberty and relief - something they have not had for five long years - begging the heros of the almost mythical now Alexandria to make the world right again.

Hero or no, there are those with compassion in their heart, or those who see how to turn bad times into profitable times, that are gathering for the greater good. Food is needed, and with winter fast approaching, and the granaries full, the tubers and fruits put into storage, there simply is not enough. The most plentiful, and easiest resource to be found now, are wild ones - the beasts of the Eldwyn which surrounds Alexandros. Protein is needed through the winters to keep a body nourished, furs and skins are needed to keep bodies warm - and even with the charity the city is known for, it is not uncommon at all for hunters to be selling their skins and furs, if just to cover costs and prepare for their own winter needs.

Thus many groups have been gathering, looking to put together hunting expeditions - Fiaol and the Church of Gilead are one such group. After all, the High Hunt is approaching, and what better way to celebrate it then hunting to feed those in need? Thus, Fiaol has been posting in the adventurers guild, and has even gone scouting into the mountains and into the Eldwyn for good hunting grounds where-in to send others.

And that brings us to today, where a small group was contacted by the Green Warden Fiaol herself - a red-headed lass wearing the holy symbol of Gilead, a smiling freckled face, and an enthusiasm that was too large for her human body by sevenfold.

"And so, after Karl and I went into the mountains, we came down through the FEywild here, an this looked to be a great hunting spot. Why, I swear I saw the largest elk I have ever seen in my life, and I grew up in the Mythwood! I hope you don't mind hunting here. I mean, I have heard of large beasts in the Felwood, but I think Karl wants to go hunting there, and I"m not really of a mind to tell him no. And it's best to split groups up so there isn't any over hunting, which is what I really fear if people just randomly go hunting on their own. I really should talk to the city guard about hunting permits just for this winter, and regions of the Eldwyn, so that we can limit overhunting as much as possible," excitedly chirps young Fiaol.

Kraken mutters, "Overhunting? I suppose people will be using things like arrows and spears to hunt then. It's not really sporting if you don't wrestle it to the ground yourself, or at least get up close and use a knife or an axe." He seems prepared to go off into the wilds, though not with much in the way of classic hunting gear, other than a few extra ropes and poles for a sled to haul game back with.

The winter holds a special joy for Nasirri. Come from far Am'Shere, she has only rarely experienced the fierce rigors and fures of the cold winter months, and those only briefly in her own skin. Slender hands folded beneath either sleeve, she tightens her clasp as she draws deeply of the scented air, the tang tasting of so many distant snows... "A wonderful thought," the Egalrin says, turning back to the energetic young huntress with a beak-gaped warmth, "But I do not know how well the people outside the walls shall accept it. When there is hunger on the air, the warnings of the law are far less sharp than they should be. Perhaps better to organize parties of hunters, with proper guidance in what and where, and how. Coordination, perhaps."

"You'll owe me -big time- after this. You remember that." Sharna hisses to Alteri as they arrive, a slender finger pointed at the other woman and azure eyes narrowed in her direction. Goodness of her heart, not to much, no. A chance for profit, perhaps. But mostly because she'd been asked directly by a trusted colleague.

The words are quiet, for the Eldanar's ears alone. For you see, Sharna and forests do not get along admirably at all. Hunting isn't something that comes naturally to the city-dwelling half-elf. Her usual cloak has been replaced with a warmer, heavier one, which is wrapped tightly about her to ward off the chill, and she remains otherwise silent - for the moment - allowing Alteri to lead the proverbial way.

It is the mass of refugees and the impending cold that weighs most of Alteri's mind. Already, the Eldanar has been seen around the Den and Guild, putting out feelers for volunteers to hunt with her. Needless to say, her efforts are but a scratch on the surface. Who better to lean on for true publicity than one of the holy orders?

Brought here by goals that match easily with the Church's, the female fighter listens to the chirpy redhead, pointedly letting Sharna's hissings roll off her like water off a duck's back. With them is Stupid, the blue roan packed with equipment to build a travois or three. A saddled pack mule keeps Stupid company, the animal placidly watching the agitated half-elf from beneath an overlong forelock. Finally, she turns to quirk a brow at Sharna, "Did you want the repayment in kind to what you paid me, for that heal potion?"

Paladins look impressive. Shiny breastplates and glowy swords, all that. When it comes to hunting expeditions? Not so practical. For the purposes of the hunt, Faiza has in fact slung a robe over that breastplate of hers, and is wearing a heavy woolen cloak. The robe, while not exactly camouflage coloured, is dark enough blue that it won't be a problem in snowless forested areas. The cloak, though? It's brilliantly, eye-searingly white, trimmed with white fur and rather glorious-looking. For sneaking up on prey, though, it's -spectacularly- impractical. Not that the paladin in question even seems to notice the dirty looks her cloak is getting from the more experienced hunters in the group. Perhaps she's simply assuming the looks are because of who, or rather what, she is. Faiza, Paladin of the Silver Guard, is about as shadow elfy as you can get without actually wearing nothing but spidersilk. Dark grey, nearly black, skin. Narrow, slanted, glowing blood-red eyes. Ginger hair. ... wait. Ginger hair?
"So, what exactly is my role in this?" the Mul'niessa paladin is asking of one of the leaders of this little expedition. "I don't actually have a bow, or anything of that sort. Am I to be a bodyguard?"

Kraken looks over at the paladin, chuckling a little bit, "What do you need of a bow or the like? It's a sporting challenge to ride down your game and cut it down with a blade close at hand, so you can see and smell the fresh blood as you make the kill. Nothing quite like it, makes the roast that night taste even better, you'll see."

Sharna rolls her eyes at Alteri, shaking her head. "Let's just get this over with." she replies, putting on her best little smile for the employer's sake - a business-like little expression, neither warm nor icy, but pleasant. Her hunting implement... sort of... is a crossbow rather than a bow. Not terribly sporting, but it'll do. She takes a step away from Kraken, discreetly shuffling away. Barbarians. So... uncivilized.

Green eyes widen just a bit at the fact that Kraken has no shirt... then Fiaol is nodding and reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Ahhh,let me guess, you visit the Battlehall often!" she exclaims happily, before moving on to each individual with an extended hand. "So, I really thank you so much for doing this. Really. And ooh, look, one of Eluna's! Glad to see you here, Sister!" she offers to Faiza with a broad grin. "Member of the Silver Crescent or no? I've been considering petitioning to join myself, you see..." the huntress starts to ramble on, before blinking and stopping herself with a faint blush.

"But ... that isn't why you are here, are you? Here," offers Fiaol as she reaches into a satchel at her side, holding out a map of the Feywood, the area where they will be hunting. "Now, just stay out of the toadstool or stone rings, and things should be fine."

Nasirri raises a taloned hand, chasing the flow of her beak as she closes her eyes. Hunting holds its own special spark in her heart of hearts, but it is the constant dance and flow of emotion from the smoother skinned that gives such endless fascination! And bemusement, as sharp eyes reawaken with a twinkle of quiet mirth. "I am told that hunting is often a special ritual," she begins, continuing mischief's trail of thought, Coyote nipping at her thoughts. "From when mankind often slept for the winter?"

Alteri blinks big baby blues at Sharna, "You don't like being paid that way?" she makes a small hngh'ing sound of amusement, "Sure, whatever you say." her drawl in no way mocking, merely, lazy. Nodding to the rest of those gathered, for she has had cause to interact with them at one point or another, she then eyes the hand being held out to her. Uncertainly. Seeing how another may shake it, she mimics them to avoid giving Fiaol offense, though she looks entirely awkward doing so. Perhaps it is the custom of the city itself, the backwater noble muses. "Peace favour your hands," she intones formally in greeting. Oh yes, this one is either a Knight of Peace or was trained by them. Like Faiza, she doesn't look best suited for hunting traditionally, not with her breastplate, sword and massice guisarme. Perhaps that piddly quiver's worth of javelins is what she plans to use, or, perhaps she will be ululating right there next to Kraken on horseback.

Kraken moves over to check his horse's kit once again, then makes his way over towards Alteri. "So do you know what game we're likely to find out this way? I've not seen any of the large herds I'm used to hunting back home. This looks more like hunting in the woods."

Shaking Fiaol's hand firmly when offered, Faiza seems curiously guarded with the somewhat exuberant woman. "I have considered it. The Silver Guard allows its members quite a bit of leeway in their pursuits. For now, though, I will keep my focus broad." The Mul'niessa paladin resumes checking her equipment after the moment is passed, a simple crossbow slung from a shoulder under the cloak being the sole visible weapon she carries beside her sword and shield. The redhead seems to be keeping herself to herself, preferring to keep clear of the bustle and hubbub of preparation... and any possible shadow-elf hating daggers in the back.

Fiaol blinks at Nasirri, "When mankind sleeps for the winter? Oh, no. No. That is usually bears and ... well, no. Mankind is just smart enough to know snow is not their best element and thus stays indoors as much as possible, is what you are thinking, I believe."

Then Fiaol nods her head at Faiza, seeming nonplussed at the Mul'niessa's aloofness. "Well then, blessings on your persuits," she offers before smiling at Alteri. "Oh, thank you. Peace unto your ... hands? Is that right? I've only just seen a few knights, honestly, so I don't know what is right or not, so ... OH! And for hunting. Elk and deer, likely. No, alas, there are not the large herds here. Though, I hear the Vast has large herds off grazing animals still. One day I'd like to travel that way and see them for myself," she finishes up with a nod to Kraken.

GAME: Sharna rolls Knowledge/Local: (4)+5: 9

<OOC> Sharna knows NOTHING.

You paged Sharna with 'IT's named the Feywood? Elves come from there. Born from the trees in spring …'

Sharna pages: Hahaha. Pretty much. "THERE'S FEY IN IT?!?!"

Sharna pages: MAYBE?! POSSIBLY? Either that or it's full of bears and someone thought it would be funny to make people think there's fey... XD

You paged Sharna with 'Nah! Just elves! Sometimes, they dance nekid in the moonlight ... and kidnap travellers and get them drunk, and then the sunlight forms into half-elves! Totally awesome!'

You paged Sharna with 'Yeah, there's fey there.'

From afar, Sharna is a half-elf, has not formed from moonlight OR sunlight. :(

You paged Sharna with 'But does the REST of the group know that?'

Sharna pages: Then again, was too young to remember. Maybe! :(

You paged Sharna with 'Faiza was totally formed from the shadows between the moonlight and the sunlight. *sagenod*'

You paged Sharna with 'Play it up if you want. I'm just joking around. But tell 'em a whole bunch of stuff, true and not true if you want! I'm sure they'll believe you.'

Nasirri clicks her beak, the temptation to continue on a relentless thrum in her veins! But she relents all the same, shaking her head in quiet laughter at some private thought. "I see," she returns demurely, bowing her head before she casts her gaze out across the vast area, the woodlands beyond. A curiosity to breathe wonder into the soul!

"Feywood, Feywood..." Sharna chants, tapping her chin. Eventually, she just shakes her head. "Tell you the truth, I'm not even exactly sure which part of the Eldwyn it's at. Well, I suppose there may be... fey... in it? Don't think it's good to mess with them, though." she says, shrugging her shoulders. Seems no helpful information from her, today. Shamelessly, she hops into the saddle of Alteri's horse, adroitly lifting herself into the seat and giving the animal a pat on the neck. Alteri earns herself a coy little smirk, perhaps a little on the disdainful side - but not much more.

Kraken chuckles, "Yes, the large herds of the vast. Finding them is not the trouble, surviving the hunt is much more. Ride the herd the wrong way and you'll be pounded flat like the grasses." He moves over and mounts his horse as he sees others mounting up. "Do we have someone that will track the game then? Someone good at it, I mean. I know a few of the signs, but only in passing."

Stupid is bored. When bored, the mare likes to look for apples, in Alteri's hair. Ducking under whuffling horselips, Alteri uses the bit to direct the mare's attentions elsewhere. Like Sharna's shiny pale hair, except now the half-elf is stealing her ride. "Not I," she replies to Kraken's query, though a flat-eyed stare is being directed up at the rogue. Finally turning to regard the much taller Kraken, she gives a slight shrug, "Yet, I do believe it has to be large. Rabbits will not fill stores in any significant measure." The Highborn certainly looks ready for bear, literally. Then Fiaol is clearing up the menu of what is to be hunted this day. The corners of her eyes crinkle at the cheerydin, "As long as peace is sought, be it by hands or feet, it is right."

Fiaol wrinkles her nose at Alteri's mount, and shakes her head with a warm smile for the beast. "Well, are there any other questions? The map should tell you where to go, and well... it doesn't matter how skilled you are, so long as you try, people will be grateful. /I/ will be grateful."

"How hard could it be?" Sharna says with a shrug, before bending forward to give Stupid a gratuitous amount of neck scratches, affectionate. The lithe little half-shadow elf hunts -people- for a living. Surely mere animals should not be a problem!
Yes, this will most certainly be an interesting outing. Sharna gives the map a once-over before handing it off to Alteri, apparently considering her the tracker and pathfinder for the day.

"Then it surely it will be our pleasure to assist," Nasirri replies, eyes bright with the expectation of moments to come. Hunting! And then, a long pause as she glances towards the others. "Are we to ride after our chosen quarry?" she adds, giving the four-legged beasts a thoughtful regard.

Since Sharna has volunteered to look after their mounts, Alteri, map still in hand, is free to approach the aloof Elunite. Sombre as always, the Eldanar stops a few paces from Faiza. Eschewing a simple handshake, she dips into a full court bow, "Mistress Faiza," she straightens but keeps her voice low, "I apologise for my cryptic remarks at the... chilli tasting event. I felt need to send warning, but was uncertain of prying ears... He mentioned the need to visit his sister. I hoped what I said would be enough to set you on guard."

"Riding or not..." Sharna begins, giving no sign of wanting to get off the saddle. Hands rest idly on the front of the saddle as she regards the fiery-feathered Egalrin. -She's- riding, apparently, no questions about it. "... we'll need them to drag back anything we bring down. I mean, those things are -big-. Elks and deer, that is." She has a point, there.

Bright eyes glitter as she regards the beasts, dipping her head slowly. "I am not familiar with riding," Nasirri admits, fingers tightening imperceptibly beneath the folds of either sleeve. "But I shall try, if that is the desire."

The day's journey is a pleasant one, thankfully. The travel is easy overland, and the group arrives on the outskirts of the Feywood not too long after the mid-day meal. For the most part, there is little change in the Eldwyn ... except for a feeling - a feeling that things are different here and the Veil is thin.

Light Filters through the trees in pillars of gold, motes of dust, which sometimes upon closer inspection actually due appear to be a rare sylph that flees with a giggling chime once spotted. Wildlife is abundant here, whether because of the thinness of the Veil, or because there are protectors of the forest are hard to say.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Perception checks please."

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (13)+6: 19

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (5)+5: 10

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (7)+10: 17

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (10)+11: 21

You paged (Nasirri, Sharna) with 'The sounds of a babbling brook drift on the pleasant breeze. The air is sweet here in the Feywood, and every once in a while, you catch a note or two of music, coming from the same direction of the brook.'

You paged Kraken with 'The sounds of a babbling brook drift on the pleasant breeze. The air is sweet here in the Feywood, and every once in a while, you catch a note or two of music, coming from the same direction of the brook.'

From afar, Kraken could get a know/nature check? :)

Despite being unaccustomed to riding, Nasirri manages to maintain a careful balance, clasping with taut strength and without digging taloned feet into the animal's poor sides. As the hunt goes on, she hums softly to herself, the quietus of a gentle music.... Pausing with a blink as her head shifts, swift eyes flickering into the distance. "If I may ask," she whispers, voice a gentle murmur. "Of what significance is the music along the waters of the Feywood?"

Sharna's wary, a little tense, as the group travels - perhaps fearing the creatures in these woods may strike at her simply on account of their ties with her lighter-skinned kin. "Wait... do you hear that?" A pointed ear twitches, slightly, and she raises her head. "Sounds like... water? And music?" Gently slanted eyes flick over the rest of the group, as if wondering if she's imagining things, the magic of the place messing with her mind - or if someone else hears. Eyes narrow a tiny bit when Nasirri confirms that if she is, indeed, hallucinating - someone else is, too.

Alteri tried kicking Sharna off her horse, she really did. But that sneaky rogue has a love affair going on with Stupid, clambering on the moment the Eldanar lets her guard down to scrutinise the map they were given. Since the ride is kept at an easy pace over pleasant terrain, she has no hope of keeping the rogue off, short of applying bladed force. Looking unamused at this saddle-stealing interloper, she rumbles something at the half-elf. Pale gaze flicking then to the gently murmuring Egalrin, the Highborn cocks her head, attempting to catch what the others are pointing out. No luck.

GAME: Kraken rolls knowledge/nature: (3)+4: 7

Kraken nods as he holds up, "I agree, I hear it too, water and music. It's a shame that water is the best place to find thirsty deer, the music might drive them away. Maybe we could ask whoever is playing to stop for a while."

"Or investigate further," Nasirri remarks thoughtfully, gazing off towards the source of the distant song. Feathers shiver as she curves, turning back towards the group. "Moving further upriver is a possibility as well. Leave the singer to her song, and continue our path in another way?"

Snippets of song start to drift now, so that every ear can hear. Even Stupid seems to hear the song, ears twitching, and unconsciously turning towards the source of the noise.

The song itself, what can be heard, is hauntingly beautiful, alluring, yet not riotous enough to frighten potential prey away.

Alteri exchanges glances with the rest of the hunting party, "I'm of a thought to investigate, or pay respects, if such is due. Our goal, while aimed for good, may disrupt the forest. It behooves us to mind our manners." Too well-trained to hunch, the Highborn still appears a tad discomforted from the way her shoulders shift under her cloak. Familiar mostly with the physical realm, the warrior looks to the ones closer to the gods, Nasirri and Faiza, for final decisions.

"I'm not sure I want to risk interrupting any denizens of this place while they're having a bath." Sharna says, quietly. An ivory brow arches at Alteri's remark, and the girl stretches, leaning back in the motion almost enough to unseat Alteri. Almost. And then the music becomes louder. She's suddenly smiling, completely unconsciously, as she leans forward into a more neutral position. "It's nice, isn't it?" she says, a little dazedly, of the music. There's a pause, a freeze - a sudden shake of her head to clear it. "You know, I'm not so sure. I don't want to be some fairy's slave for the rest of my life." Wary. VERY wary.
She grabs for the horse's reins, but of course, Stupid's not likely to heed the command quite so readily in the circumstances.

The Egalrin listens to the music for a few moments more, clicking her beak in quiet chirr. "I agree," she says, leaning back upon her mount with a ripple of golden wings. "As said, it is best to pay our respects to the musician. Perhaps she may be able to guide our steps within the Feywood, if asked with courtesy." The avian head curves, tilts as she glances towards Sharna, eyes curving back to the wood with consideration. "But I will not press in this. My knowledge of the woodlands and those within is poor, at best."

Tch'ing at Sharna, Alteri's legs clamp down on Stupid's barrel. "Hold still, would you?" she grumps at the interloper on her mouth. Callused hands rescue Stupid's reins from the rogue. A good thing too, the blue roan was beginning to try sidestepping right on out of the forest. Tethered to Stupid's saddle, the mule simply munches on some undergrowth, waiting for a decision to be made.

Kraken keeps a tight grip on his mount's reins, one hand reaching down to pat the warhorse on the neck and remind him of his training. "Better to know what is out there than to continue in ignorance. A friend would be welcome, an enemy behind us a poor decision."

Sunlight bathes the wood in dapples, warming the world beneath the canopy of the trees. There is something ... ethereal about this place, mystical and more than natural. Why, even this late in the year there are butterflies dipping about blooming flowers which hang from trees, just as well as grow up from the ground.

The group moves ever closer to the sound of the water, the sound of the song, and never does it fail to stop singing - neither music nor brook. From just past a dipping willow's curtain of leaves, the light of afternoon sparkles and reflects brightly off the waters of the babbling brook, while soft grasses and mosses slip ever slightly downwards into the plane of the flowing water. The willow is large, it's leaves draping and swaying with the breeze as it moves as if dancing to the haunting melody being played. The source of the music is not seen at first, perhaps on the other side of the willow closer to the brook.

Kraken calls out, "Hello the minstrel, have you time to talk and share a drink with travelers?" Then he glances around towards the others and gives a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'well why not?' As he gives his horse a nudge to take him into the opening about the willow and around towards the side of it to circle around.

Perhaps there is something in the music affecting Stupid, for the animal's hooves pick and traverse in a most dainty way towards the source of the music. Meandering through the heavy shafts of green-tinted gold, Alteri finds herself trying to keep her breathing slow and even. Pausing by the chuckling brook, she waits to see what-all Kraken's call might stir.

Nasirri lets her mount carry her as close to the willow as she dares, pausing a distance back to dismount from the creature with a soft sigh of breath. "Thank you," she murmurs to the placid horse, brushing its mane before she gathers herself and her thoughts together. A tapping touch trails her fingers along her beak before she simply moves from beneath the shield of willow's leaves. A sparkle of sharp bemusement lingers in her eyes as Kraken calls out, and the silver-robed Egalrin turns her eyes towards the opposite bank. "We come as friends," she offers as well, liquid voice rising in turn.

GAME: Sharna rolls Will: (8)+3: 11 to Fiaol

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+1: (17)+1: 18 to Fiaol

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7 to Fiaol

GAME: Nasirri rolls Will: (6)+7: 13 to Fiaol

Sharna finally hops from the horse's back, settling lightly upon the unusually green grass below. "Our sincere apologies for interrupting your beautiful melody so. We don't mean to intrude - we're here on a... mission." the elf-girl adds in a milder voice to Kraken's call, perhaps hoping to, indeed, mollify the mysterious creature.

A brief flash of movement, and the song continues. There is a man sitting on the bank of the brook, half resting in the water- from the waist down. He plays a set of reed pipes, the haunting voices producing the gentle, lovely music. He has the angled features of an elf, with the pointed ears, his skin is warmed and kissed by the sun, and nearly as muscled as Kraken. The distinct difference, however, is the rams horns on his head which curve up then backwards in a non-threatening manner.

The man continues playing his song, but motions the group over, a smile glinting in his eyes as he points to a spread of late berries and fruit, along with a couple of bottles of what can only be wine.

You paged Kraken with 'Look! A satyr... not that you've seen one before or know what he is. But you do not feel hostile, or overly OH MY GOSH MY NEW BEST FRIEND, towards him. Though, he does have wine.'

GAME: Kraken rolls sense motive: (7)+0: 7 to fiaol

Smoothly dismounting, Alteri sports an uncharacteristically wide smile. The sort of smile she NEVER smiles. Stupid's reins are tossed carelessly aside, again uncharacteristic of the usually methodical to a fault, Highborn. Striding forth, she seems to have met an old friend, for she immediately moves with arms wide open, wishing to give the Satyr the world's biggest hug known to Eldanarkind.

GAME: Nasirri rolls Sense Motive: (2)+8: 10 to Fiaol

GAME: Alteri rolls Sense Motive: (17)+1: 18 to Fiaol

Kraken slides off his mount and drops the reins, leaving his steed as he steps forwards towards the spread slowly. He pulls out his own wineskin and smiles, "Looks like you've got quite a spread here. Hey Alteri, you know this guy, introduce us will ya?"

Bright feathers ripple as Nasirri clicks her beak in quiet reverence, a soft chirr at the player's gleaming song. Curiosity shows in the swift trace of her gaze, curved beak marking the passage of her focus before returning to the player with a quiet mirth. "We have found our musician," the Egalrin says with bemusement, hands curving beneath her robes as she bows reverently towards the figure. "Pray, greeting to you, and blessings. We mean no disrespect with our passage here." Bright eyes gleam as she beings her own careful movements forwward, eyes curving from calm steps to the musician's song and back again, her voice carrying that tune with a thrum of her own song.

"Kinda cute, isn't he?" Sharna whispers to Alteri, grinning just a little bit, a hit of white under the dark of her lips. Her nose scrunches cutely. "Not a fan of the horns so much, but." And with that, she traipses over - moving to hop across the brook and take a seat beside the man... kind of... without any of the fear from a moment ago. Legs fold under her. "Well, hi there." she greets. "I'm Sharna. These are my friends." A glance to the pipes. "You're quite talented with those."

"Ah," offers the horned man after he finally ends the song, letting it hang merrily in the air. "We have not met in the flesh and blood, but I sense an old soul, a kindred spirit," offers the man in his reverberating baritone. A smile is given to Alteri, who is at his side to hug him before he can even leave the river. "Alteri... is it? Yes... an old soul indeed, my friend," he offers, before looking over the others. "Mmm... yes, kindred spirits, indeed. Come, come, I have fruit and wine, drink and eat at your leisure," he drawls, eyes lingering on the Egalrin a moment, before nodding back to Kraken.

"Tuskatoo," rumbles the man, waving a hand in the air. "My name, my soul, are called the same. I am Tuskatoo." Then grass green eyes light upon Sharna and Tuskatoo gives her a humbled smile. Why, even the tips of his pointed ears blush a bit. "Ah, yes. A gift. Why thank you. Thank you. I would love to play more for you. Drink, eat, let us be merry for a time."

Kraken raises his wineskin then in a salute towards the man, "Let us drink then Tuskatoo, I am Kraken." Then the wineskin is to his lips and he takes a healthy couple of swallows of the low grade ale churned out by one of the cheaper Alexandrian taverns.

Warmth dances as the Egalrin steps over, plumage flared before she reins the wayward feathers back in. "Would that we could," Nasirri admits, gleaming feathers slickening with a shiver of sharp regret. "But I regret that we cannot remain long with the joy of your presence and song." She bows her head, quiet breath curving low. "There are many who need what aid we can bring them of the forest's bounty. Death will come, if we do not find food for the coming winter days." She bends gently, broad wings tightening with a whisper of living feathers. "Pray, please forgive, ser Tuskatoo, and aid us if you may."

"Awww. Come on! The deer aren't exactly going to go anywhere, are they? Just one more song? Two? Please?" Sharna gives the matronly Egalrin a pleading look, like a puppy begging to be let out for a walk. She's almost childlike, seated there, looking more content than she ever really does normally.

"Tuskatoo, yes, of course," Turning to Kraken, Alteri introduces the horned fellow to the tall barbarian, then beams at Sharna for what she whispered. Shaking her head, she makes a playful grab for Tuskatoo's pipes, "I just ate. Teach me how to play!" The Highborn adds her own devastatingly puppy dog eyes look to Sharna's, begging Nasirri for just another five minutes, pleeeeese mom? "Tuskatoo's going to teach me how to make the pretty music," Sharna gets a jealous glare, "Me first."

"You are my guest, and drink from your own skin! Nonesense!" offers Tuskatoo, tossing one of his skins towards Kraken. "I am a gracious host!" he implores. Green eyes look to Nasirri, and the man arches a brow upwards as he listens. "Mmmm, I see. Yes, there is good hunting here in the forest." He pauses, as if weighing the Egalrin's words. "So long as you take only what is needed, I see no harm in letting you hunt here. Now, please, just a drink. It seems I am about to give some lessons," he offers the last with a deep chesty laugh, before turning to look equally between Alteri and Sharna.

"There is a sping just upstream, see the steam there, that feeds into this river. Right here, the water is just the perfect temperature. Join me," he offers before reaching his other skin and holding it out to Alteri. Then he turns, and with a flick of his wrist, produces a luscious red berry to Sharna's lips.

"Alright, alright. I'm dying to see how you do anyway." Sharna agrees with Alteri, grinning wildly a moment. She gives the satyr a sideways glance, plucking the berry from his fingers with her hand rather than gathering it with her lips. She throws it in the air, then, adroitly catching it in her mouth and chewing. Foolishly trustworthy. Or, perhaps... well.

Nasirri traces sharp eyes from the wineskin to the forest; torn! She closes her eyes, bowing her head as fingers tighten around either wrist, loosen, weighing heavily as yellow-gold feathers ripple, whisper. "One song," she admits with a long, *long* sigh. Breath whistles across her nares before she returns her gaze much more sternly, and *much* more sharply towards the two women. "But after such, we must return to what we have sworn to accomplish! Besides," Feathers rustle anew as eshe continues, faint mirth returning to her features. "We can always return to this place, to meet Ser Tuskatoo once again." She curves towards the satyr, bending again in quiet reverence. "If it pleases, of course?"

Sticking a triumphant tongue out at Sharna, Alteri holds her hand out for the pipes. She gives a minute little wiggle where she sits by Tuskatoo, so excited is she to try to make the pretty sounds. Pouting, she paws the skin away, long arms reaching for the pipes with more intent now, "You said you'd give lessons!" Everyone gets a look, "He said he was giving lessons, wasn't he?" Tuskatoo gets a mighty frown, thoroughly ruined by the grin of pleasure she feels being in his company. Crowing in victory at Nasirri's capitulation, Alteri declares, "What I play doesn't count as part of the one song!"

Kraken catches the tossed wineskin and grins, "It'll be a party if I start drinking a second skin. Maybe after we've gotten what we need we can settle in for a night of revelry. I don't want people starving because I ended up drinking all of your wine, Tuskatoo." Then he eyes Alteri for just a moment, he's known her for a little while and he's never seen her so carefree. Definitely want to come back for a real party if she's loosening up, yep.

"Very well, and it would, indeed, be a pleasure if you were to return ... anytime, m'Lady," drawls the Satyr to Nasirri, before he starts laughing jovially at Alteri's willingness. "Here, here, a man must wet his lips after playing the pipes," he says before he takes the wineskin back and takes a deep drink. Then he turns, and with a smile offers it to Sharna, "m'Lady Fair, would you care for a drink of wine?" he asks.

Then it is back to Alteri he turns, finally handing over his beloved pipes. "Playing the pipes, is like caressing your love with your lips. That is how I can put so much emotion and beauty into my lips. I think of them as the most beautiful woman I have seen, and I play them as if I were kissing her," he drawls, shifting so that he is closer to Alteri's ear as he begins to instruct his newest student.

"If that is your wish," he then says over Alteri's shoulder to Kraken. "But the wine... ahhh, the wine. From the mountains, made of grapes kissed with the first frost, so they are all the more sweet. Such a wine... is not easily found," he notes, before smiling back at Alteri with a great deal of warmth.

GAME: Sharna rolls Fortitude: (20)+3: 23 to Fiaol

You paged Sharna with 'You aren't drunk! But it's GOOD STUFF!'

Alteri hardly hears Tuskatoo's instructions, she is too busy being smug at getting to play the pipes first. The fighter inhales a huge breath, looks for the mouthpiece and just lets all the air her mighty lungs have stored up, through the poor pipes. Hopefully it is of extremely sturdy make, because THERE SHE BLOWS! PHEWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

Sharna giggles at Alteri, giving her a curious glance. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you that relaxed." she voices Kraken's thoughts, idly accepting the wineskin thrust her way and taking a swing readily. "Oh gods. That's really good." she says of the wine, glancing down at the wineskin. "You should try it." she assures her companions, happily. Thank the gods, she doesn't look any more distraught or giggly than she did a moment ago. ... Of course, that isn't saying much.
And then, then she drops it in order to cover her very sensitive ears, cringing and gritting her teeth.

An avian wince... It is eyes widening in shock, beak parting as the razor gaze stares, feathers slickening down like a blanket across the forehead! Nasirri all but cringes at Alteri's attempt at playing the pipes, closing her beak again with a *click*!

"Very..." the Egalrin begins, trailing off as she swallows her words, searching for another. "...nice attempt," she adds, shaking her head with a shiver. "Perhaps it is Sharna's turn?" she suggests. Quickly. Pointedly. IMMEDIATELY.

Kraken grits his teeth together at that sound, "Alrighty Alteri... maybe you need to practice playing those things off in a room. With a door. And some heavy blankets over the windows. By Kor that was loud!" Then he eyes the flask tossed him, "Maybe a swallow on the hunt or two wouldn't hurt..."

"A little over enthusiastic," rumbles Tuskatoo as he gently tries to reach out and pull the pipes away from Alteri's lips. The Satyr then shifts so that he is nearly completely behind Alteri now, one hand resting gently on a shoulder, the right hand then sliding along the woman's arm to where she holds the pipes. "Place them near your lower lip," he says, softening his voice as he leans in, a whisper trying to close on Alteri's ear. "Just a breath ... like this," he offers, before letting out a soft caress of air from his own lungs.

"Try that... then it shall be Sharna's turn," he rumbles, turning to smile at the other woman. Another flick of the wrist, and this time an apple is produced and he holds it out to his next student. "For your journey, if you are not staying long," he offers.

"Please, have as much as you want. I absolutely insisted on it, both of you," Tuskatoo offers, smiling at Nasirri and Kraken. "Perhaps it will help ease the ... awkwardness of lessons?" he suggests with a throaty rumbling laugh.

The Highborn directs a lofty look towards Sharna, "That is because you are mean to me, Tuskatoo is not." The horned man is given a liquid-eyed look of gratitude. "No, no, I got this." Alteri insists when people start threatening to make her stop, sharp elbows ensuring she gets all the space around her and no one tries to take Tuskatoo's pipes from her. "I was holding it all wrong, that's it, that's..." the touches, though originating from her BEST FRIEND FOREVER, are strange, alien, and when the man's voice susurrates in her ear, she stiffens and squirms away.

A hand is held out to keep that distance sacrosanct. Her smile is less sure, now, "I'll try, just... don't do that again." A fleeting frown slips across her angular features, why did she say that? Shaking her head, she tries again. Sadly, being distracted with the unfamiliar, the next attempt comes out even worse, with shrieks and screeches peppering the air. Even her own be-charmed ears suffer, and, thoroughly upset with herself, she throws that pipes back at Tuskatoo, rampant, uncontrolled emotions coursing through her form and lending far too much strength to her piqued endeavour.

"I'm not much for music myself." Sharna says, though she does accept the apple. She flips it onto the back of her hand, graceful motion letting it tumble the length of her arm, across the back of her neck, and down the other arm in turn. It is grasped in the opposite hand at the end of the journey. "But I'll happily listen to you play, Tusky." A soft smile is given to the satyr. Hunting is boring -anyway-. "I mean, I guess I could try." she considers, spinning the apple idly on the tip of her index finger as she ponders. "Never really had much chance to." And then the apple is nearly crushed in her hand as the cacophony of Alteri attempting to play the pipes continues. Her teeth grind. Noisily. A vein pulses in her forehead.

"You are most gracious," the Egalrin chirrs in return, the touch of rose dancing along her nares. She steps across to a near place, pausing only to search out a bowl from the low pack at her side. Smooth, shallow, she proves its use in a few brief movements- a gentel twist to unstopper one of the wineskins, adding a portion of its contents to the dark wooden bowl with a sigh of relish.... and another, feather-slickened cringe at the sounds from Alteri.

"Ceinara bless us with your favor," she whispers, murmurs, begs... Eyes closed as she drinks from her bowl with a careful grace.

You paged Nasirri with 'Strone wine. DC 15 Fort save, please. And privately roll it.'

GAME: Nasirri rolls Fortitude: (20)+5: 25 to Fiaol

The oiled barbarian decides to take a taste of the wine from Tuskatoo, anything to drive away the noise ringing in his ears from that attempt at playing. Well, a taste is a couple of hearty gulps, but that's not so much compared to Kraken's large frame. "Can we skip the music lessons for a bit? They're certainly making sure there is no game around for anyone."

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+6: (20)+6: 26 to Fiaol

"Now now, m'Lady of the Golden Feathers," Tuskatoo offers to Nasirri, wincing at Alteri's second attempt, "I did promise to give lessons. And once I've made a promise," he offers with a wave of his hand.

Green eyes look at Alteri curiously, and the satyrn considers a moment, before attempting to put his hand on her knee in a friendly fashion, a companionly gesture. "Pipes are one of the easiest instruments to make, and one of the most difficult to master. Do not be disuaded and feel rejected, m'Lady. I have been playing the pipes for as long as I can remember."

Tuskatoo turns to look at Sharna, then smiles at her antics with the apple. The pipes are inspected, before the Satyr moves and slides next to the nimble woman. "Now, as I said to Alteri, the same is true for you. Just a whisper of a breath," he suggests, leaning close to make certain the pipes are positioned correctly.

Kraken finishes his swallows and smiles, "Well, that's not bad. Strong enough for a good drink.. but way too sweet. A girl could drink this stuff, it's got no real kick to make your tongue remember it." He stoppers the wine and turns to get his horse back in gear, "Alright, so, we going to get to the hunting soon?" His real reason to get away from the next round of pan pipe practicing while he still has intact ears.

Nasirri positively thrums with the affectation, bright eyes curving closed as she finishes the bowl's contents with a sigh at the welcome heat. "A pleasant mix," she accedes, a warble in her voice before it normalizes once again. She basks, relishing the taste before her eyes curve open once more, a breath of regret before she moves to clean the dark bowl, sliding it away. "One more," she affirms, "And then we must continue our hunt. It would be unkind to stay..." Sharp warmth gleams in her gaze as she casts Alteri a glance, eyes curving to mighty Kraken in his own turn. "Or to allow a quest to support those in aid to be set aside for an evening's revelry."

Sulking up a storm, Alteri moves away from where Sharna is getting ALL of Tuskatoo's attention, and plops her butt down. Plucking at grass that is inexplicably still flourishing in this time of season, she tosses the remnants into the stream. If she should catch any looking her way, she would return a 'what are you looking at?' glare to them. No, grass plucking is too pathetic. Needing to do more to let out her anger with herself, her large bastard blade is drawn. Yes, take that, you wicked grass. STAB.

Sharna lifts a hand to support the pipes, not quite shying away from the horned man as her companion had. She exhales a gentle breath down one of the reeds, and a crisp little note emits from the instrument.

"Doesn't seem too complicated." she remarks, taking the pan pipes more fully in her own grasp and managing something that actually sounds like a little melody. Not a true song, no, but it doesn't put needles through the eardrums and despite being slow and uncertain, it manages to flow alright. That done, she grins... only to glance over at the sound of the grass being savaged.

"Excuse me a second, cutie." she says to Tuskatoo, handing him his instrument back and hopping to her feet, striding over to Alteri. "What's wrong?" she asks, lowering to a crouch to be eye level with Alteri - actually sounding a little concerned.

"Please stop beheading my friends," drawls Tuskatoo calmly, patiently. Though he does offer up a deep sigh as Sharna excuses herself from his presence, and Nasirri appears to be packing things away. "Some have a natural talent in one thing, only to find something they cannot do, others excel at," he notes, trying to offer calming wisdom.

Reaching forward, Tuskatoo takes a handful of berries and rises, gliding easily to Nasirri, and offering them to her. "I am always honored to meet one of the Pheonix' Chosen," he rumbles to the Egalrin with his warm grin.

Finally he turns to Kraken and laughs. "Next time, then, I will be certain to have some dwarven spirits with me! Something with true fire to put in the belly. Will that do, my friend?" he asks, his grin growing lopsided.

You paged (Nasirri, Alteri, Sharna) with 'And note... if any of you want to come back and find Tuskatoo sometime... with good intentions, he'll be here. If he sees murder on your face, this little goat-boy is running! ;) So feel free to use him as an NPC as you need.'

Kraken laughs warmly, "Yes, the dwarves do know how to brew something with more kick and fire to it. And they know how to drink it too." He mounts up onto his horse and starts sharing a few impatient looks with everyone else. "Now I know we're having fun and all, but can't this wait till after we've gone hunting? I mean, that's the order of things, you make things bleed and then you have the party."

Nasirri's faint blush warms like the heart of a star! The practical part of her thoughts exclaims that they *should* be on their way, for the sake of the hunt and the rest of the journey...

...and another part flails and squeals and chirrs at the sole, magnificent attention!

The priestess rises slowly, bowing as she acceptsthe gift with every care. "May she continue to watch over you with all heart," Nasirri returns, eyes a bright gleam as she cradles the berries in her hand. She makes a brief ceremony of placing them into her pack, careful to secure them tightly. And, in turn, reaching up along her neck, to steal a golden feather from amid the many with a sigh of breath.

"A token," she chirrs, offering it to Tuskatoo. "May we meet again in better times."

Glancing back over her shoulder at Tuskatoo, she reluctantly ceases her murderising of flora. She looks around for something else to smack with her sword, and Sharna decides to get within arm's range. Immediately, muscles clamp down hard on the urge to swing. There is a dissonance, and she blinks foggy eyes at the half-elf appearing concerned for her. The leather grip under her hand creaks from pressure. "Everything." she mumbles, then adds, "Nothing." This is a Site of Failure & Shame for Alteri now. Much as she likes Tusktatoo, she doesn't want to be here anymore. "I don't want to be here anymore," she grumps, then looks plaintively at the half-elf, nevermind that -this- one underlined her Fail so clearly. "Can we go now?" she whines.

"Are we leaving already? You -promised- we'd stay for a song." Sharna offers, biting her lip. There's a glance at Alteri. At the satyr. At Alteri again.
Friendship forged through battle and pain battles magical influence... and wins out.
"Okay. Let's get back to the hunting thing." she concedes softly, offering Alteri an encouraging smile and a hand to help her up.
Whether her aid is accepted or not, she asides to the Eldanar: "I'll just go say goodbye." The mild words spoken, she saunters over to the Satyr, standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for the wine and the music, Tusky." A gloved hand reaches up, index finger tracing the contour of his jaw. "You know... if only you weren't so hairy... and your legs weren't bent the wrong way..." she murmurs with a wry grin, but then dances away to... well, of course, steal Alteri's horse again, or at least hitch a ride. A hand lifts, fingers wiggling as she waves farewell to the faun.

Tuskatoo offers a graceful bow to Nasirri as he gently accepts the token. "A most honored gift," he whispers to her as he straightens, holding the feather to his chest for a moment.

"If that is your wish, m'Lady Alteri, then you are free to go, of course. I would rather you stay, and I would spend all the hours of day and night needed to teach you to play the pipes as you wished," he intones, offering her a bow as well. "However, your quest is a noble one, and one that suits my forest better than rampant hunting and intrusions. So I see no reason to keep you from it."

Then Sharna is dancing over and kissing his cheek. The Satyr laughs, the baritone resonating and echoing throughout the forest. "Most gracious and beautiful Sharna," he offers, with a flourished bow. "Allow me, please, to try and change your mind on that at some point. I am a very persuasive man when I wish to be," he drawls.

"Until we meet again, my friends. Happy hunting."

The sun continues to dapple through the leaves of the Feywild as the group wanders away from the brook and Tuskatoo, returning to their quest. Soon the memories of friendship fade from the minds of the women in the group, perhaps leaving them befuddled, confused, or angry as awareness of such friendliness with a stranger sinks in. Kraken, on the other hand, was unaffected by the Satyr's song, and continues unaffected still as the group delves deeper into the Feywild searching for deer or elk to hunt.

"I know that everyone was having a good time, but we really should get some food. There were a lot of expectant looking faces watching us leave. Small faces. I would hate to let them down." The big barbarian says as he rides along slowly, looking for sign of game as they trek deeper into the woods.

To spare the distraught Alteri, Sharna's since taken to striding beside her and her steed rather than stealing a seat upon it. Stopping midway through munching the apple the satyr had given her for the journey, her eyes narrow dangerously at the fruit as the magic evaporates, leaving behind conflicting thoughts and feelings. She looks... confused, mostly, puzzled, throwing the remainder of the half-eaten apple into the bushes for reasons that do not entirely make sense to her. The resident insects and small animals will no doubt be quite happy with the gift.

For herself, Nasirri is content in quiet peace. Never pleasant to be charmed, but no harm was done to the priestess' thought and concern...

... though, perhaps, other's sense of decorum did not fare so well!

Humming quietly, innocently to herself, the golden Egalrin basks serenely as she sits balanced atop her mount, following along with the hunt's progression. "Of course, noble hunter. We return to the task necessary..."

The confused discontent permeating Alteri's being translates to a marked stiffness in her posture as she rides astride Stupid. With the dawning realisation that she -had- been acting completely out of character, the Highborn stiffens for entirely different reasons now. Slowly, the glazed sheen over her eyes has receded and she glances to Sharna, Nasirri, then to Kraken; a markedly subtle motion, the Eldanar being uncertain of what-all magicks had affected her. Affected them? The hands on her reins move in silent handspeech. "Of... course, Master Kraken," she says, cautiously. She notes the apple Sharna throws away, and frowns slightly, but says nothing. Her breastplate shifts as she inhales a large, cleansing breath and shrugs the moment off. It can wait, hungry mouths, cannot. Applying herself to the task at hand, she begins searching for animal tracks.

Kraken grins a bit, as he either doesn't realize how uncomfortable people are as effects fade, or he's doing a good job of ignoring their discomfort and focusing at the task at hand. He hops down to look for tracks from foot for a bit, looking to see just enough old tracks to justify slowing down and looking more intently for game tracks.

Nasirri leaves the Eldanar in peace, for now, perhaps uncharacteristically. Bright feathers rustle in soft sympathy, but the feelings of the heart are never a course others may have mapped for them; she leaves poor Alteri to her own ends, at least until the warri--

She pauses as Kraken hops down, pausing as thought's train and sharp eyes are both cuved towards the huntsman. "Have we found what we seek?" she asks, warbling voice dropping low.

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (1)+11: 12

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (9)+10: 19

GAME: Alteri rolls Survival: (14)+6: 20

GAME: Kraken rolls survival: (1)+5: 6

Sharna's thin, white brow quirks up at Alteri. The corner of her lips tugs upwards - and there's a single gesture, a single graceful sign in reply, before she focuses on what they're actually there for. "The sooner we find the deer or whatever, the sooner we can go back." she mutters. There's only one problem - she's a city girl, and she hasn't a damned clue what to look for. It's no surprise, thus, that she ends up fruitlessly glancing about and not noticing a thing a more nature-savvy individual easily would.

Kraken pauses and holds up a hand, "Ah ha... here we go, this is just what we're looking for I think this is antelope, several of them if I'm not wrong." He squats down and looks off to one side, "Going that way, about a day ago."

Alteri notes Sharna's handsign, at least, one might think she has, by the way a muscle in her jaw tics. Fortunately, Kraken is dismounting and forcing her attention to things other than the very recent past. Callused fingers previously strangling at Stupid's reins, creakily release said leather. Polished boots hit the oddly verdant ground, striding to take the Highborn to where the axe-wielder is. Squinting her mundane, human eyes a mite, she attempts to work out what the barbarian is referring to. Sable bangs swaying, Alteri gives a negative shake of her head, "Nay, the tracks are muddied. 'Tis a shared trail. We wish to head that way for the herd of antelopes, the other way will gain us honey badgers." This she says in a neutral tone of voice, still fighting back the urge for massive self-recriminations with regard to her conduct with Tuskatoo.

Nasirri keeps her counsel, observing the two hunters in their natural habitat. Much as with the passing of signs, the Egalrin can see the passing of remarks, but does not understand their meaning. "I leave the matter to your capable hands," she says quietly, eyes bright.

Kraken eyes the tracks again, actually giving his chin a rub, "Honey badgers you say? Just don't see that... guess I've never tracked them before." He shrugs and moves back to his horse and slides back into the saddle, "Think we should go after the antelope, or is the trail looking too cold to you, Alteri?"

"I didn't even know there's antelopes in these parts." Sharna says, quietly. She glances down at the tracks as they're pointed out - but really, to her, it's all just tears and scruffs in the soil that mean nothing at all. Blue eyes flick between the two trackers. Little choice but to follow the lead of the more educated.

At the Egalrin's words, Alteri straightens, only to afford Nasirri a respectful dip of her head. The planes of her angular features are cast in a determined light; she means to make reparations for her lapse, now, if possible. To Kraken, she gives a twitch of one shoulder, her version of a shrug. "Honey badgers are afeared throughout the forest," Her eyes flick to Sharna, "Perhaps the antel..." her eyes narrow, "Wait." Taking a single side step, she stares intently at some more track, "Elk," her low voice rings out triumphantly. "A very large one."

Nasirri stares at the tracks for a moment, trying to search out whcih one belongs to the creature in question. A shame that humans have such flexible eyes; they do not point properly to watch they gaze upon....! "Nearby?" she asks, voice hovering above a chirr as she asks as softly as she dares. "And dangerous?" she adds, feathers rousing with a ripple of flickering quillions.

Kraken smiles at the news, "Large elk, that'll feed quite a few people if we can bring one down." He shifts to ride forward so he can look for Elk tracks towards the indicated direction, but after his confusion on the antelope he doesn't move out right away, waiting for Alteri to start moving first.

"... How big, exactly?" Sharna feels compelled to ask, eyes flicking between Alteri and the ground, the bark of surrounding trees where no doubt there are antler-marks she simply isn't catching. It's not the goodness of her heart or the desire to feed people, no - more the desire to not get trampled by an enormous elk. Gods know if she's even seen an elk before.

Alteri doesn't return Kraken's smile, but the colour of her eyes does deepen in pleased assessment of his statement. "Indeed." Glancing back to the other females in their hunting group, she nods, "Northwards. They look very fresh," she points to the tracks in question, the dampness of the dirt kicked up, and the spoor a little further onwards, still warm enough to make more sensitive noses twitch or flare. "As tall as I am at the shoulders," she offers Sharna whilst signaling to Stupid to follow. With her mount at her heels, the Highborn quirks a brow, "It isn't rare for their antlers to reach ten feet across."

Bright feathers quiver as the Egalrin's wings shift. A dozen questions to ask! But Nasirri relents, if only with the greatest reluctance; silence must be maintained, if their prey is to be captured forthwith.... though such does little to comfort as she gives a faint, whistling sigh. "Please lead," she murmurs, beak clicking with a sharp whisper. "I shall try to be as quiet as one may."

GAME: Kraken rolls stealth: (10)+1: 11

GAME: Alteri rolls Stealth: (9)+-1: 8

GAME: Sharna rolls Stealth: (20)+11: 31

GAME: Nasirri rolls Stealth: (14)+3: 17

"... that's pretty damn big." Sharna says, grabbing her crossbow and doing what comes naturally. -Hiding-. She's... not so happy about the idea of an animal of that size bearing down on her. Into the shadows, the foliage, darting between cover of the trees, crossbow ready to fire.

Sharna's words finally dig out a faint smile from the Highborn. "Faint heart never won fair lady," Alteri drawls, "Nor fed the masses." Pausing, she takes stock of the direction the air is moving in, "We shall want to remain downwind of it. It certainly hasn't lived to this size being unwary of hunters."

Kraken keeps on the trail, getting one of his throwing axes ready, a muttered thought that maybe he should get himself a bow at some point muffled into the mane of his steed. He thinks about the size of the elk and gets a second axe ready, leaving his knees to guide his horse along.

Nasirri's eyes widen as she stares out at the forest, sharp beak marking the trace of her gaze, a burning search. "Great Roc," she murmurs, voice soft. "Sky Hunter. Lend me your grace, that I may see your gift for hunter's cause...." A silent shiver before she stills, perched upon her mount, bright wings a faint shimmering as she drarws nearer the great oaks' shadowy fields...

GAME: Nasirri rolls Perception: (1)+10: 11

GAME: Sharna rolls Perception: (3)+11: 14

Alteri remains on foot as the primary tracker. Stupid has done this with her mistress many times, and the animal remains quiscient whilst the Eldanar does her creepy, tippy-toe thing.

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (16)+5: 21

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (2)+6: 8

Autumn seems to be coming late to the Feywild, which is likely a good thing, as certain Eldanar seem to be finding every leaf and twig to step on. However, Alteri is able to lead the group deeper northwards into the wood, before the sun glows ahead as the canopy breaks, exposing a clearing with lush green grass.

And the biggest dang elk anyone has ever seen!

Easily 7 feet at the shoulders, with antler's 12 feet wide, this elk has at least seven points to it, and a coat that glistens gold and bronze in the warm light of the lowering sun.

"The Holy Order has surely blessed all of Alexandria..." Alteri breathes in reverence, her eyes widening at the sight of the magnificent beast. Conventional hunting tools will not do for one so noble as this. Head borne down, she signals Stupid to stay far back and swiftly closes the distance with the great creature. "We seek not your death, but the life of many." she says once close to the elk, her bastard blade drawn and held at the ready.

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5-4: (7)+2+5+-4: 10

KA-THUNK.
The shadows of the forest let loose a crossbow bolt. Aimed at the elk's hindquarters rather than the main bulk in an effort to spare Alteri of it, the projectile screams through the air and embeds itself in the tree just behind the elk, where it vibrates uselessly. There's a muted curse in Sildanyari. The crossbow is left behind, replaced with the dusky-bladed twin swords she's more used to employing, as Sharna dashes forward to close some - but not all - of the distance.

Kraken sees the Elk close at hand so he drops his hand axes and hurtles from his mount, closing rapidly with the big critter with his large axe. Perhaps it's the desire to hunt down the elk, perhaps he's ticked off at no one noticing his well oiled pecs, but either way he is snarling a bit much and has a rather nasty case of the twitches on his left eye going on.

A forest of surprises, wonders to behold-- Nasirri stares as autumn colors give way to the great flow of colours, the sweeping brushstrokes of evening upon the animal's magnificent pelt. "Praise be, Cernan, Ceiwen..." she whispers, sharp beak parted in a silent gasp. Heartbeats pass before she moves with a shiver of regret, slender hands moving alongside to draw forth a trio of heavy weight, smooth stone orbs connected at a central line. "Blessings be on stroke and aim..."

Dismounting with care, she calls her blessings as she begins to move, carefully closer as her companions move in equal turn.

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (11)+4: 15

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (20)+9: 29

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (8)+9: 17

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4+4: (2)+4: 6

GAME: Fiaol rolls 2d6+7: (7)+7: 14

As Alteri and Kraken move up next to the buck, the startled animal rears, brown beady eyes rolling dangerously in the back of it's head as it pummels the barbarian with his hooves. Falling back to the ground, the massive elk then snorts and starts swinging it's antlers side to side, raking and catching Alteri painfully on the side.

After contact is made, the massive beast lifts it's head, those brown beady eyes wild and fearful, before it bugles clearly, the sound of the trumpeting elk echoing throughout the Feywood itself.

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d10+15: (2)+15: 17

You paged Alteri with 'Roll me a private perception please!'

GAME: Alteri rolls Perception: (6)+5: 11 to Fiaol

GAME: Sharna rolls Acrobatics: (3)+11: 14

Alteri braces as the mighty elk trumpets its call. Whether it was a challenge or something else is moot, for the animal's lashing hooves signal enough, how it shall meet this intrepid band of interlopers in its domain. She doesn't have time to wince at the crunching hit Kraken is given, before she must guard against antlers that swoop down and threaten to lift her right off her feet.

A dull clang rings through the clearing, her mutely glowing blade just able to fend off the first slash of the horns. Not so lucky at her second attempt to avoid being hit, she feels the animal score deeply into her internals. Biting back the groan of pain, the temporary loss of breathe, she grits her teeth and pushes off from the antlers her sword was tangled with, using the momentum to fuel her returning swing. The blade scores a massive wound in the animal's golden pelt.

Lithe and light as a hunting cat, Sharna continues her dash, cloak whipping and billowing behind her as she moves. She runs right past the furious melee, somersaulting into position behind the bucking, panicked animal instead to provide her allies an advantage. The swords are brought forward, her body like a serpent coiled to strike. Poor, poor elk. "I'm pretty sure this isn't the proper way to hunt elk." she mutters, mostly to herself.

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d20+9+2-1: (7)+9+2+-1: 17

<OOC> Fiaol says, "+2 for flanking?"

<OOC> Kraken says, "+2 was for increased str while rage, so er, +2 more, so a 19"

GAME: Kraken rolls 1d12+13: (2)+13: 15

GAME: Kraken rolls perception: (14)+6: 20 to fiaol

You paged Kraken with 'It should have done a LITTLE more damage than it did. How odd.'

GAME: Nasirri rolls 1d20+6-4: (12)+6+-4: 14

<OOC> Nasirri says, "It is a touch attack... I shall take the Luck reroll."

GAME: Nasirri rolls 1d20+6-4: (18)+6+-4: 20

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (1)+4: 5

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+9: (18)+9: 27

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4+4: (1)+4: 5

GAME: Fiaol rolls 2d6+7: (10)+7: 17

Kraken twitches a bit more, then lets the elk have it with the two handed axe. It should have cut the thing in half, but the blade just leaves a smaller wound along the flank of the beast. There's no exposition, just a roar of, "mmm! Jerky!"

Nasirri's feathers slicken back as she sees the sudden fury the great elk unleashes, caught by offguard as the animal moves so viciously! The bola in her grasp is momentarily forgotten; instead, the Egalrin raises her hand, murmuring a prayer of swiftness. Fire gleams as she closes in, a bare thirty feet before she unleashes the firebright shard of energy from her palm. Heat flashes forward in searing array, to scorch and sizzle and singe across the animal's right flank.

Now the beast is panicked, that is the only word to describe it. Surrounded by the scent of humans, the scent of hungry and dangerous humans at that, the large elk buggles again loudly.

One hoof is then shoved at Kraken several times until it connects. The elk then drops it's head and kicks backwards, bucking at Sharna, missing. Finally the massive horns swing from side to side once more, again raking across Alteri's side - blood is flowing freely there now.

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d20+10+2: (8)+10+2: 20

GAME: Alteri rolls 1d10+15: (7)+15: 22

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5+1+2-2: (4)+2+5+1+2+-2: 12

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d20+2+5+1+2-2: (18)+2+5+1+2+-2: 26

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, 1 hit."

GAME: Sharna rolls 1d6+1+2d6: (4)+1+(8): 13

The hurt coming from multiple sides seems to lend an even greater rage to the elk's attacks. Almost brought to her knees by the King of the Forest's returning swing, the Highborn lets out a pained grunt as huge antlers swipe her right across the face. Spitting out blood, more pours down the gash over her eye. This must be done quickly if she is to remain standing.

With eerie calm, a counterpoint to Kraken's hunger for jerky, the Eldanar lets the hilt of her blade slip down further, lessening the length of her swings. Delicately, her other hand guides the lionhead pommel of her sword, a deceptive picture, as the shorter arc allows for sterner strength to be fed into the blade's motion. Letting loose a staccato shout, Alteri cleaves deeply into the animal's neck, the resulting gush of blood mingling with that which the elk had drawn from her.

Sharna ducks beneath the dangerous buck of the animal, her body twisting easily away from the blow. A blade lashes, an effort to retaliate as its legs retreat, but finds no purchase in the speed and frenzied, jerky motions of the panicked animal. The woman re-centers, eyes narrowing - the elk stills for a moment, a fatal moment, and the blade is brought into its side, just where its leg meets its body. The bite of the sword may not be huge, but it is precise, and a torrent of blood follows the weapon being pulled out with a twist. The creature trembles uncertainly on slender legs before collapsing in the grass.

Kraken pulls back his axe for a big chop into the elk when the thing finally goes down. There's a moment of incredulity on the barbarian's face, then a exhalation as he loses his grip on his inner rage. All is right in the world now, the dire enemy, the pec ignoring elk is at his feet, bloody and dead. And looking rather tasty for dinner tonight. "That's going to take some work to get home..."

Nasirri shivers as the last blow is struck; bright feathers quiver on edge as the Egalrin draws her hands back, a ruffled fury from tip to toe before she manages some semblance of calm, trying to ease the wild hue of bright crested array. "Not so much as you might think," the priestess chirrs, eyes still gleaming with fiery delight. A long breath soars in, exhaled with a reverent, worshipful strength; curiosity steals her closer to the fallen animal, pausing to brush her fingers through the coarse fur with a murmur. "If you will prepare the means to carry the elk," she continues, "Then Ceiwen shall provide the means to carry our fallen prey. And now..."

Letting the moment slip from her, she turns towards the wounds infliced, wounds suffered. It is time to heal.

Sharna pokes one of the animal's hind legs with the tip of her boot. It does not stir. The twin swords are sheathed, the crossbow gathered - and gently slanted eyes fall on the battered, bleeding Alteri. "Are you alright?" she asks the Eldanar, concerned, moving to her side so as to provide something - or at it may be, someONE - to lean upon should Alteri require it.

Despite her heavy wounds, Alteri is saddened to see the efforts of the group pay off. As the light dims in the great creature's eyes, she lays a hand upon its shuddering flank. "Forgive us, friend. Your sacrifice shall not go to waste." Her hand continues to stay with the animal, moving with it as mighty legs lose strength, lose life, and fold to the forest floor. Using that same hand to keep herself standing, she turns numbly to look confusedly at the questioning Sharna. Then the battle's adrenaline drains away and she stumbles against the smaller rogue. "The antlers... Greyfeather..." disjointed mumblings accompany the highborn's efforts to remain upright.

Kraken looks over the massive beast and nods, "He was a noble one. No fear and running when faced with danger. Though I suppose it should have. It will feed many though and clothe a few. And the antlers will pry coins from someones tight fist to feed more."

Nasirri nods quietly, eyes glancing from Kraken to Alteri with quick regard. "Then let us be swift," she says, stowing the bolas away before moving to cast the healing energies. "The sooner we return, the sooner that some may rest tonight fed..." She pauses, voice more quiet as she murmurs sa breath. "For a time."

Sharna doesn't buckle too much under Alteri's weight. Valiantly, she provides her wounded comrade support, draping one of Alteri's arms about her shoulders. The height difference is a problem, certainly, but she's doing her best. At the swordswoman's words, eyes flick to the beast and its majestic antlers - soaked with Alteri's blood as they may be.

"She has a friend who'd really like those antlers." the grey-skinned half-elf explains to the other two members of the group, mildly. "Would either of you mind letting her have them? I think she deserves them." she opines with a small smile. Alteri's blood soaks into her clothing as she helps the Eldanar towards her horse.

Kraken gives a nod, "They'd make an impressive battle helm, so if you'd likethem, then certainly they are yours." He goes to his horse and starts with the poles and netting, setting them up to take his place on his mount so that the warhorse can drag the bulk of the weight of the elk.

Nasirri attends to healing the unfortunate warrior for a few moments, letting the touch of healing magic flow. Quiet flames soothe bloodloss, bruises, the crack and weight of antler and hoof; a few bandages are added in turn, a moment's quiet nod before the Egalrin turns to Kraken's mount for its own blessing. Few words, but swift ones--- the magic is come and gone with a touch of fingers, a quiet breath.

By the blessings of Nasirri's gods, Alteri's colour returns, allowing her to cease being an awkward burden to Sharna. "Many thanks, Mistress Nasirri," voice quiet in the wake of a royal death, the Highborn straightens, giving both the Egalrin and half-Elf grateful looks. A few cautious movements then, testing the bandages. "You have a deft touch," she compliments the Egalrin.

Her main hand had instinctively kept a deathgrip on her sword all this while. With the worst of her wounds seen to, she now painstakingly takes a moment to clean her blood-stained blade with a handful of dry grass. Sharna's words cause her to blink. Oh, yes, she'd thought about that, but hadn't realised thought was given voice in her moment of weakness. She glances abashedly at the others, rubbing at her neck whilst mumbling, "I would... like to purchase the antlers. As Master Kraken has said, it would fetch fair coin to feed more mouths and fie that I would claim them as a right," At this, she gives Sharna a mildly exasperated look. That look turns into puzzlement when Kraken mentions something about using them for a helm.

Sharna helps Alteri up onto Stupid, striding beside the horse for most of the journey and only stealing a seat for brief spells when fatigue from walking catches up to her. Once back in the city, she becomes visibly more relaxed.

A small grin emerges on the Mul'niessa-blooded half-elf's face - slightly wicked at the edges - as the party strides into Alexandria. "You know, I've changed my mind." she drawls at Alteri. "I think I'll take your offer of repayment." The impish grin flares. "But not now - I desperately need a hot bath and a drink. I'll let you handle the skinning and other stuff - I'll find us a buyer for the pelt." And with those words and a wiggle of nimble fingers, she's striding off into the night.

Now, all that is left, is gutting the creature, and tying it up to be hauled back to Alexandria. It takes longer to reach Alexandria, even with Nasirri's prodigious spellcasting, than it did to reach the clearing, simply because of the bulk that is being carried behind - avoiding rocks and trees and the like.

Along the way, the Cleric of the Pheonix offers words of encouragement, beauty, and healing. However, cold does begin to creep in, despite Nasirri's efforts to keep it away, darkness has spread out across the land. Several hours past full dark, the group finally makes their way to the city gates, shut for the moment, but just beyond them warmth and comfort are waiting.

It takes some swift words, and compliments given by the silver-tongued cleric, and finally the guards open the gates, letting the group in. After all, this was an errand of mercy, and mercy is what many in Alexandria need now.

Recent Logs

2011-10-25T21:35:16Z

Alariel:

[[Category:Logs]]
Roleplay is central to Tenebrae, and consists of a mix of scenes, grid, and PrPs. Here you may read some of the logs our players have posted, or wanted to share. This page may also be used to post logs for PrPs, to share an item for staff review, or to tell players about a great scene. Just remember to ask folks in the scene if it's alright before posting (if it's a DM'd scene, ask the DM). Remember too, if you're RPing in a public area, a log may end up on this site.

If you're interested in a summary of recent history, see [[Recent History]].

===How to Post Logs===
Please prepend PrPs with PrP: Name of Log. This includes all kinds of PrPs; Standard, Death Consent, and Dramatic (respectively, SPrPs, DCPrPs, and DPrPs). Most recent logs are at the '''bottom.''' Be sure to put all pages into '''<nowiki>[[Category: Logs]]</nowiki>'''. Thank you.

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|[[How to Post a Log]]
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|[[Help:Editing#Formatting|Wiki Help]]
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|[[PrP Template]]
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===Our Logs===

* [[Ancestors Pyre|Dramatic Scene: Ancestor's Pyre]]
* [[Back At The Ranch|Social: Back At The Ranch...]]
* [[Boy Meets Girl|Social: Boy Meets Girl]]
* [[Ashenvale Part 2|PRP: Ashenvale Part 2]]
* [[PrP: The Competition|PRP: The Competition]]

* [[Falcon Point: Teeth of the Deep|PRP: Falcon Point: Teeth of the Deep]]
* [[PrP: Brothers of the Storm Part I]]
* [[PrP: Rats!]]
* [[UglyBats|PRP: Huggin' Ugly Bats]]
* [[GrandParade|DPrP: Machinists Grand Parade]]

* [[PrPALittleBatty|PRP: A Little Batty]]
* [[Dragon in the Garden|Social: Dragon in the Garden]]
* [[Bacon Liberation Team|PrP: Bacon Liberation Team]]
* [[Daggers in the Dark|PrP: Daggers in the Dark]]
* [[PrP: Wolves in the Winter]]

* [[Adventurous Rivalry|PrP: Adventurous Rivalry]]
* [[PrP: That's not Timmy!]]
* [[PrP: Black Ring Rising]]
* [[PrP: Chicken Chasers!]]
* [[PrP: Timmy's Uncle]]

* [[PrP: Teena's Bad Day]]
* [[PrP: Fistful of Chitlins]]
* [[Hell's Medicine Part 1|PRP: Hell's Medicine Part 1]]
* [[Gnap!|PRP: Gnap!]]
* [[PrP: Watt's Mine is Mine]]

* [[PrP: 3375 Cubic Feet of Terror]]
* [[Why Did It Have To Be Rats?|PRP: Why Did It Have To Be Rats?]]
* [[The Poisoning of the Myrrish Ambassador|Social: The Poisoning of the Myrrish Ambassador]]
* [[Necromancer's Folly|PrP: Necromancer's Folly]]
* [[Tears in Dust Part 1|PrP: Tears in Dust Part 1]]

* [[A Veyshanti Sort Of Arrangement|PrP: A Veyshanti Sort Of Arrangement]]
* [[Tears in Dust Part 2|PRP: Tears in Dust Part 2]]
* [[PrP: Earthshaper Part I]]
* [[PrP: Adventure, Inc. - Part 1]]
* [[PrP: Godbusters]]

* [[Heroic by Proxy|PRP: Heroic by Proxy]]
* [[DPRP: Run, Thief, Run!|DPrP: Run, Thief, Run!]]
* [[Hell's Medicine Part 2|PrP: Hell's Medicine Part 2]]
* [[Tooth and Sky|PRP: Tooth and Sky]]
* [[PrP: Codices, Indices, and Odysseys]]

* [[The Hauntening|PRP: The Hauntening]]
* [[PrP: Codex Bifolium]]
* [[Tournament Paramount: Magic Competition Round 1]]
* [[Tidehollow's Challenge|Tournament Paramount: Tidehollow's Challenge]]
* [[Caller in Darkness|PRP: Caller in Darkness]]

* [[Dramatic Scene: Guild of Explorer's Meeting: Dwarven Citadel Expedition]]
* [[Shadowfall is coming|Social: Shadowfall is Coming]]
* [[Hell's Medicine Part 3|PrP: Hell's Medicine Part 3]]
* [[PrP: Beneath the Church]]
* [[PrP: Old Wounds]]

* [[PrP: In The Thick of Things]]
* [[The Young Herbalist|Social: The Young Herbalist]]
* [[Wyvern Hugger|Social: Wyvern Hugger]]
* [[Twins | Social: Twins]]
* [[Silver Wings: Why the Egalrin are the Way They Are|Social: Silver Wings: Why the Egalrin are the Way They Are]]

* [[PrP: Just Lion Around]]
* [[Kill Ted|Scene: Kill Ted]]
* [[PrP-Tutorial: You Dirty Rat!]]
* [[Agril, Axe Murderer|Social: Agril, Axe Murderer]]
* [[Dramatic Scene: Is It Lynch Time Yet?]]

* [[PrP: Escape to the Noble House of Mummies Part 1]]
* [[PrP: A Tangled Web]]
* [[Botanical Gardens|PRP: Botanical Gardens]]
* [[PM Plot: Ezra's Golden Parachute]]

* [[PrP: There and Back Again]]
* [[PrP: Boiling Point]]
* [[Social: Cabin in the Woods]]
* [[PrP: Team Heart Face the Hydra]]
* [[PrP: Fey-tasia]]

2011-01-10T19:59:14Z

Alariel:

Recent Logs

2011-01-10T19:58:03Z

Alariel: PrP Log. Joy.

[[Category:Logs]]
Roleplay is central to Tenebrae, and here you may read some of the logs our players have posted, or wanted to share. This page may also be used to post logs for PrPs, to share an item for staff review, or to tell players about a great scene. Just remember to ask folks in the scene if it's alright before posting (if it's a DM'd scene, ask the DM). Remember too, if you're RPing in a public area, a log may end up on this site. A public area is anyplace that's on the main grid that isn't a residence, personal room, or Plot Room.

Please prepend PrPs with PrP: Name of Log. This includes all kinds of PrPs; Standard, Death Consent, and Dramatic. We stopped this for a while, but are reinstituting it just to keep files a little clearer. Most recent logs are at the bottom.

If you're unsure how to post a log, see [[How to Post a Log]].

<center>'''Please be sure to put all pages into<nowiki> [[Category: Logs]]</nowiki>. Thank you.'''</center>

* [[Ancestors Pyre|Ancestor's Pyre]]
* [[Back At The Ranch|Back At The Ranch...]]
* [[Boy Meets Girl]]
* [[Ashenvale Part 2|PrP: Ashenvale Part 2]]
* [[PrP: The Competition|PrP: The Competition]]
* [[Falcon Point: Teeth of the Deep|PrP: Falcon Point - Teeth of the Deep]]
* [[PrP: Brothers of the Storm Part I]]
* [[PrP: Rats!]]
* [[UglyBats|PrP: Huggin' Ugly Bats]]
* [[GrandParade|Dramatic Scene: Machinists Grand Parade]]
* [[PrPALittleBatty|PrP: A Little Batty]]

Character Pages

2011-01-09T06:12:40Z

Alariel: Ooops! Forgot a comma!

Emblem of Ea is home to a number of colorful and interesting characters. In order to make a page, you will need to be logged in with your forum ID. If you're having trouble logging in, please see the [[Help:Editing|Wiki Help]] in the [[Getting Started]] section.

For help on making a character page, please see [[How to Make a Character Page]].

<center>'''Be sure to put all pages into <nowiki>[[</nowiki>Category: Player<nowiki>]]</nowiki>. Thank you.'''</center>

{{CompactTOC}}

[[Category:Player]]

==A==
[[Abrahil]], [[Agril]], [[Amira|Amir'a al'Jarim]], [[Aynssyrn Bainduis]]

==B==

==C==
[[Colrick Voss]]

==D==
[[Darshan]]

==E==

==F==

==G==
==H==
==I==
[[Ionus]]

==J==
==K==
[[Kaliara|Kaliara Sein]],
[[Karelin Andarin]],
[[Karl Mattock]],
[[Kerbasi]],
[[Koszhey Urvald Malinovyi]],
[[Kylie D'malthyae]],
[[Kyra Smith]]

==L==
==M==

[[Maerkkus]], [[Myrana Jn'Rajh]]

==N==
[[Nin-galad]]
==O==
==P==
==Q==
==R==
[[Roland]]

==S==
[[Lady Sandiel]], [[Hailee Serene Tigriil]], [[Lady Sienna Meribeth McBane]], [[Siseroa Shurik]]

==T==
[[Thaim]], [[Teena Longshot]], [[Thistle]]

==U==
==V==
==W==
==X==
[[Xenarchy Malzash]]

==Y==
[[Ylva]],
[[Younger, Bruce The|Bruce the Younger]]

==Z==
[[Zerridwyn Angosil]]

UglyBats

2011-01-09T06:08:20Z

Alariel: PrP Log. Wooo!

<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
== Log Info ==
*'''Title''': Machinists Grand Parade
*'''Emitter''': [[Fiaol]]
*'''Characters''': [[Aruk]], [[Shadair]], [[Caillyn]], [[Zarkhan]]
*'''NPCs''': A few here and there
*'''Place''': Alexandria - A Homestead
*'''Time''': Jan 4th? 5th? I don't remember, 2011
*'''Summary''': The group is asked to check on an elder couple not seen for a few days in one of the farmsteads outside of town. They come up against two Vargouilles (the couple) and an advanced Vargouille that 'mated' with the pair. Oh, and Caillyn gets some tongue. Ewwwww.
</div>

The cold deepens around Alexandria, and some mutter quietly under their breath about how the mists at least protected them from the chill in the air. None the less, Alexandria is used to such changes in temperature, and moves on, seemingly ignoring the fact that it was gone from the World of Mortals for five years.

One pasttime that sets Alexandria apart from other cities, is it's large population of adventuring souls looking for ... well, adventure. A typical gathering place for such 'odd jobs' is the Guild of Adventurers and Explorers, which conveniently has a board filled with postings of job offers and needs and the like.

It is here that people begin to gather, looking for ways to pass the day, earn some more coin, or perhaps simply looking for conversation amoung friends and like-minded individuals.

Shadair stands quietly at the meeting point for such adventurers. Always willing to put his skills to the test to aid others and support his current residence's survival. More-over to learn more about what has happened in the world. So clothed in a warmer version of his usual vestments, the half-elf stands easy awaiting to see what if any interesting jobs will float down from on high.

Aside a place for possible employment, the Guild of Adventurers is also an excellent place to pick up rumours from the outside world. This is the capacity that has brought Zarkhan here today. Again. He's not really browsing the bounty postings, but instead lingering near a larger group of adventurers, absently eavesdropping on their conversation. His gaze drifts about with a bored expression however. Doesn't look like there's a lot of juicy rumours at this time.

Standing by the board, Caillyn looks over the postings curiously, amber gaze flicking from one to the other as she plays with a long strand of curls absently. Her interest in the board would seem to be absolute...until she turns around and hisses to Shadair, "Really, you don't have to follow me /everywhere/. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" The sorceress actually stomps a foot with her last word before turning her back on the monk and pretending that he isn't there.

Is that a green wall? No, it's just Aruk. The orc, typically of quiet disposition, is nevertheless a looming paragon of incivility set against an otherwise orderly guild. Rough hides are stretched taut across his frame, and long, vicious claws of steel extend from his thick fingers. Given the way he looks, Aruk probably just needs to stand there for a while to find work.
Long distance to Fiaol: Caillyn giggles and couldn't resist.

Shadair smiles at Caillyn, "All evidence to the contrary?" Then he looks ready to hop out of the way to avoid whatever freezing retribution his sister would lay down upon him should she turn about again. Still the young monk/cleric's attention is drawn by others as well, seeing an orc approaching and he smiles for the large creature. "Well now, your -are- a big one aren't you? I am impressed."

A figure moves through the area, a note in hand, ready to be posted. But upon reaching the board, the green-cloaked figure stops. Pulling back the hood, Fiaol looks at Shadair and Caillyn with a smile. "Oh good, faces I know," she states, nodding to the orc she hs met once before.

Fiaol closes the distance and hands the paper to Shadair. "I'm looking into some rumors about those Mulridden in the Mythwood," notes the Huntress as she looks around, flashing a smile at Caillyn again. "There's been rumor of a couple, a little on the elderly side, not having been seen for the last two days. This is unusual, mind. Would you be kind enough to take a group out to the Halan's farm just a few clicks north of here?"

Zarkhan is trying to keep attention to a minimum. Which would probably have been easier if he wasn't dressed for a particular warm day in the Dune Seas. There just /has/ to be some kind of magic involved. Or else he's really keen to catch his death. It's all calculated indifference until the word 'Mythwood' reaches him and he seems to flash a hint of sudden interest, gaze settling firmly on Fiaol. "Mulridden?" he questions before realizing he's spoken out loud.

"I am normal among my kind," replies Aruk to Shadair, his voice naturally rumbling, yet calm in tone. "I would say that -you- are a small one." He seems to have nothing more to say regarding the peculiar greeting, which is convenient, as that's when Fiaol makes her appearance. What she says seems to jar the orc's memory, his head tilting just slightly to the right. "Mulridden? You mean the shadow elves? I would not be surprised if they are already dead. The elves did negotiate to use the spiderfolk as assassins." Ah, to be tearing off giant spider heads. The memory nearly brings a smile to his lips, but only nearly.

The comment from her brother brings Caillyn swinging about again, ice playing along her fingertips for a moment before dissipating as the sorceress squeaks. Eyes going wide, she looks up...and up...and then manages a faint and shy smile at the orc, "Ummm...hi!? You were with us a couple days ago...Arug right?" Wracking her brain to think of something else to say, Caillyn actually sighs in relief when she hears Fiaol's voice. Her attention shifts, as does her quicksilver temperament, and the young woman smiles brightly at Gilead's paladin, "Fia!" A bright smile appears as Cai listens, elbowing Shadair discreetly as she does so.

Shadair is almost ducking already as Caillyn whirls about, and /does/ audibly erk when she eblows him a moment later. "And indeed I -am- a small one in comparisson. I do not mind though." His mood brightens further as Fiaol makes herself known to them, warm smile widening. "Why hello again! Wait. Your search has turned up more evidence of them? I.. well of course we will check it out. You won't be coming with us?"

Fiaol shakes her head with a gentle smile at Shadair. "Alas, no. I just came back into town for some supplies and heard about the Halan couple on my way in. I was about to post that," she notes with a wave of her hand towards the paper she pushed on Shadair, "And then be on my way." Emerald eyes turn to Zarkhan and the woman offers a nod towards him. "Just their tracks, which have no doubt already been investigated. But I feel it my own duty to look into these things. Fiaol Dilis," she says sticking her hand out to Zarkhan. "I take it you are interested? If I find anything concrete, I am more than happy to have others with me when I investigate it."

Fiaol then laughs brightly and smiles up at Aruk. "Perhaps. We shall see. And I will definitely be letting you know! I saw how you handled those spiders, I'm more than happy to have you on my side if it comes to battle."

Nervously glancing at the unknown half-elf, Caillyn nods at Fiaol's information, "I understand. Shad just needs better timing when he flirts." A typical little sister response, complete with a tongue stuck-out in the monk's directions. Then, of course, the sorceress blushes pink, her amber gaze dropping to the floor as she introduces herself in a shy voice, "I'm Caillyn Laerial." Her next comment is obviously meant for the Huntress, however, as she comments easily, "I don't mind helping, Fia."

Zarkhan eyes the offered hand critically for a moment before reaching to brush his fingertips against the palm of Fiaol's hand. "Zarkhan Tahir ibn Fayyad al'Tashraan.." he introduces smoothly "..Saviour of Vinas Solmnus". The latter followed by a sly smirk. "Zarkhan will do. And if there are Mulridden involved, I would gladly offer my aid." there is a slight pause. "If the cause is just. Of course."

Shadair blinks as his cheeks go pink. "Wha-hey now that's. . . ahem. . . We both will be happy to help. Stay safe now hmm?" Turning his gaze away from Fiaol, he nods at Zarkhan. "And that's a long name, very nice! I am Shadair Laerial. Pleased to meet you? Wanting to come along, great!" Then he turns toward some of the other nearby folk, Aruk amoung them. "So who else wants in?"

Aruk addresses Fiaol's words with a nod of his head. "When you have the information, call upon me, and I will come." Of his prowess with the spiders, he simply says, "I am of the wilds, as were they. There was an understanding." The orcs seems to only belatedly hear Caillyn's mistake, but this appears to be the moment for introductions, anyhow. "Aruk, of the Burning Blade," he says. "I'll go to have a look at this farm. If the shadow elves are helping the spiderfolk to spread, it will greatly disturb the balance here. They are insatiable."

Fia claps Zarkhan's hand with her other hand, nodding to the man. "I do not do unjust causes," she notes with a bit of humor to her tone and features. Then she turns back to look at Caillyn, before studying Shadair. "He was flirting? Really? You didn't tell me your brother was the subtle type before. A good thing to know," she offers, giving a sidelong smile to Caillyn.

An eyebrow is then arched at Shadair, and Fiaol shakes her head with a warm chuckle. "I will be safe. You, as well, Shadair Laerial," she notes, emphasizing the man's name. Finally, Fiaol looks at Zarkhan and Aruk both, nodding. "I will contact you when I have information. My thanks again. The directions to the Halan farm are on that paper. Gods be with you!" she offers, lifting a hand, before trotting away.

Caillyn can't help but laugh, softly, at Fiaol's comments, though she waves after the paladin easily. Tiptoeing to read the paper in Shadair's hands, the sorceress then nods at the others as she murmurs, "It will be good to have some help in case of trouble." Her cheeks are still pink, but the laughter disappears, leaving behind a serious expression and sober voice.

Shadair looks after the retreating Fiaol with an unreadable look. Then with cheeks still slightly pink he begins to review the directions that will lead them to the Halan farm. Upside down.

Zarkhan flashes Fia another smile and a little bow, inclinding his head. "In that case." he looks up, glancing over the rest of the little group before nodding. "A farm, eh? A few miles out? We should secure transport then." Another glance offered around the group. "And you all understand the threat we face, yes?"

"Yes. Cows. Perhaps sheep," Aruk says in respose to Zarkhan. His own form of humor, maybe, though that subdued tone makes it difficult to tell. The orc's claws slide against each other as he flexes his fingers, issuing a satisfyingly sharp sound. "We do not know what danger we face, if any. Their disappearance may not involve the spiders."

GMNote: Oh my GOSH! Aruk had me in STITCHES! Can you give him a bonus 25 XP or something? He was awesome through the whole thing, but this pose had me on the floor.

With an impish grin, Caillyn looks up at Aruk and has to nod, bringing up a hand that now displays ice-tipped claws instead of delicate fingers, "If anything troubles us, I think we should be fine...and yes, I think we know that some dangers could arise." That said, the sorceress fastens her amber gaze on the Veyshanti, one ebony brow going up, "It could also be completely calm and safe as well. It is hard to tell unless we make the journey." That whole speech would probably have been more effective if the girl wasn't squirming nervously and blushing a bright pink...but, oh well.

"Indeed. We are doing an investigation, not always an extermination." Shadair says pleasantly enough. "Like as not if anyone is there who can talk, we will only talk to them. Maybe even have dinner with them you never know." The half-elf fumbles about with the directions a bit more absently prior to checking his own modest gear. "Well then. Everyone set to go?"

Zarkhan arches a brow "Sounds more like lunch than adventure then." he flashes the massive orc a wide smile. "We should be well equipped for /that/, eh?" Wink wink, nudge nudge. "But yes, it is a fool that doesn't prepare for the best case scenario." Another bright smile. "I'm ready to g... find transport to the farm. Certainly."

A cart is found, for those not particularly in favor of walking the distance to the Halan farm. Ambling down the road, the woods may be cold and filled with snow, but there are ample sighs of life - birds, fauna, and the evergreens intersperced with deciduous trees in the area.

A cold wind blows through the woods which seems to startle some birds finding shelter in the branches of a sleeping tree, setting them to flying off in a flurry with various calls and the flapping of wings.

<OOC> Shadair says, "Perception check as Shadair is looking out for interesting/troubling signs?"
<OOC> Fiaol nods.

GAME: Shadair rolls Perception: (17)+8: 25

<OOC> Aruk is being watchful of tracks, walking just behind the wagon.
<OOC> Caillyn says, "back, sorry"
<OOC> Zarkhan is napping, but may be up for sound-based-perception-checks (man that's long :p)

GAME: Aruk rolls Survival+1: (13)+9+1: 23

<OOC> Aruk says, "For Shadair's sake, I shall clarify: tracks on or /alongside/ the road. :p"

Shadair blinks as he looks about, eyes catching onto one sight in particular. "Wow. That is one, -huge- raven over there. See it? The other birds are afraid it's going to eat them I think. That's just. . . have you ever seen one so big?" He looks truely fascinated.

Zarkhan takes full advantage of the comforts of cart-travel, sprawling out over as much space as possible. One hand rests on the edge of the wagon, making a constant tapping sound that probably gets a bit aggrevating after a while. "So... was this inside or outside the mists?" he wonders out loud, before twisting a bit to glance in the direction Shadair indicates "Oh that's not a big raven, it's just far awa... uh, I mean. How can you tell at this distance?"

Caillyn is happily perched on the cart because, let's face it, sorceresses aren't exactly physically robust. Playing with her long dark curls, she watches the road ahead and sighs as Shadair has to point out a stupid bird. Looking over at her brother and then to Aruk, the girl rolls her eyes, "Really, I don't think ravens are worried that another one will eat them, Shad." The girl glances around and then sighs again, "Aren't we there yet?"

Aruk plods along just behind the wagon. Perhaps he's being courteous, giving the others space and taking up the rear guard. Maybe he just doesn't like wagons. "Do you believe that all large creatures will eat all smaller creatures?" The orc's question is presenting in something of a flat tone, but the answer doesn't really have his attention. He's watching the road, and with greater emphasis, the untamed environs to either side of it.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Let's for inits, shall we?"

"Well, certainly looks like /they/ believe it." Shadair says quietly as he watches the big bird.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Zarkhan, give me a perception"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls perception: (8)+5: 13

<OOC> Fiaol says, "You see something. Knowledge oh... The Planes?"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "if it's not arcana or religion, it's not worth knowing!"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "unless an untrained check is enough?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You could TRY."
<OOC> Aruk can throw in a Know/Nature check, if that is applicable?

GAME: Zarkhan rolls knowledge/planes: (10)+knowledge/planes: 10

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "thaaat's not how it works :)"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "That's the ugliest bat you've ever seen. Action?"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "is it comming at us?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Mmmm, possibly."
<OOC> Zarkhan is going to agitate it by shooting at it. :p
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, do so!"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls ranged: (17)+3: 20

<OOC> Zarkhan, master archer
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, that'll hit. Damage!"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d8: (7): 7

<OOC> Fiaol says, "It shrieks with an unhuman sound, anyone with Know/Planes can roll now."
<OOC> Caillyn says, "wrong group"
<OOC> Shadair says, "Not a chance."
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "we are pretty but we don't know anything."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You have NO idea what this thing is... but somethign with bat winds and ... the ugliest, most hideous face EVAR!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Pose it, Zarkhan."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Ugly one ... tries to charge Zarkhan. Ugly two... likes the look of Aruk."

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23

<OOC> Aruk says, "Uhoh."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Aruk, give me a fort save?"

GAME: Aruk rolls Fort: (19)+6: 25

<OOC> Fiaol says, "You're lucky. NO POISON FOR YOU!"

"Wait, that's not a..." Zarkhan begins, still craning his neck to peer in the direction Shadair was indicating. He suddenly begins grapling with the loaded crossbow that has somehow gotten tangled up in his robe. Safety first and all that. After a few frantic seconds, he gets the weapon free and fires a bolt at the not-at-all-normal raven that is swooping menacingly towards them. "Look out! Demons!" he warns. Having /no/ idea what those things are. But you can't be too paniced against monsters like that.

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4: (4): 4

<OOC> Fiaol says, "you do take 4 damage though."
<OOC> Aruk says, "Ow. :("

GAME: Fiaol damaged Aruk for 4 points. 17 remaining.

Two creatures shriek after Zarkhan's attack, and turn, flapping bat-like wings as they careen towards the group. One flies up to Zarkhan, exposing a horrific face and terrible fangs as it tries to bite the sorcerer. The other wheels towards the unsuspecting Aruk and manages a bite to the arm - and while there is blood, the poison dripping from the creature's fangs takes no hold in the orc.

<OOC> Aruk says, "Alrighty. Full attack on the batman already attacking me."

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+6: (18)+6: 24

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19

<OOC> Fiaol says, "K."
<OOC> Aruk says, "First roll is crit range."

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19

GAME: Aruk rolls 2d6+8: (8)+8: 16

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d6+2: (3)+2: 5

<OOC> Fiaol giggles. Pose, Aruk. Then Shad
<OOC> Aruk says, "Is it ded?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Oh, yes. Sorry. (Kids got me there.)"
<OOC> Shadair says, "still charging the one on Zark"

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Is that +2 for Charging?"
<OOC> Shadair says, "13 then :) was doing +1 for charge."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "And Zarkhan just has a bow out, right?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You miss, alas."

Aruk doesn't take very kindly to being bitten. Who would? The orc brings his left hand up, brandishing its claws. The blades rake across the demonic creature's face, forcing it to free his strong arm from the pinching fangs. That's all the room he needs. With an angry grunt, the orc drives his right hand forward, plunging talons of steel through the being's chest and out the back. Aruk pulls his fingers free after a few final twitches, and the demon drops to the road, quite dead.

With the danger approaching so swiftly, Shadair does not have time to call a warning, nor do anything more than react. At speed he races toward Zarkhan, trusting the Orc to handle it's foe handily. A leaping fist strike attempts to gain the creature's attention, but does little more than catch air. At least he is in a position to work with the others to tackle this. . . whatever it is!

<OOC> Caillyn says, "so...umm... how far away am I?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Probably 20' at most"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "ray of frost then?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Go for it."

GAME: Caillyn casts Ray of Frost.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Roll to hit."

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d20+1: (13)+1: 14

<OOC> Caillyn facepalms.
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Hits"

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "behold the power of ice!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "2 damage. Still up. But cold!"

Squeaking in dismay as Shadair's "raven" turned out to be a very ugly unfriendly...thing... Caillyn extends a hand toward the creature that still lives. Murmuring to herself under her breath, the sorceress seems to concentrate for just a second before a flash of light flickers amongst her fingers, flaring and then forming into more light that streams over to...whatever that thing is. As the light hits the monster, frost and ice form, leaving the thing damaged, if only a little. For the part of the sorceress, Caillyn wrinkles her nose and sighs, bringing her hand back down... Well, at least she hit it..

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay NOW Z"
<OOC> Zarkhan is going to chill touch it defensively. Then five-foot step away from it.
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Roll your defensive casting. CL + Cha"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d20+3+4: (17)+3+4: 24

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "thaaat should be plenty"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "you make it."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Roll to hit."

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (10)+2: 12

<OOC> Fiaol says, "That hits touch. Damage."
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "The DC is 15"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d6: (4): 4

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Makes the save."
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "no strength loss for you!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Still up, but not happy."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "So it moves to bite at Zarkhan."

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13

<OOC> Fiaol says, "And will hit, yes?"

GAME: Zarkhan casts endure elements.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Fort save, Zarkhan."
<OOC> Zarkhan notes that bloodline spells aren't coded in. Hence the Endure Elements.

GAME: Zarkhan rolls fort: (11)+3: 14

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d4: (4): 4

<OOC> Fiaol says, "No poison but 4 damage."

GAME: Fiaol damaged Zarkhan for 4 points. 17 remaining.

In a fury or rage as it's ... mate is killed, the hideous flying ... head - for there is no other description - snaps and flaps it's wings at Zarkhan, biting into his shoulder. But at least the Veyshanti is made of stern stuff than the things poison.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Aruk."
<OOC> Aruk says, "Do I have enough distance to charge it?"
<OOC> Aruk says, "If so, that is what I will do. :)"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Yeah, you can manage"

Zarkhan grimaces as the monstrous thing gets close, speaking a few words of eldritch power, his hand glows with an eerie ominous light as he reaches to touch the thing. There is no visible damage done but the creature seems... diminished, somehow. If only slightly. Drained by the creepy glow. The effort is repaid, however, as the monster's teeth sink into his unprotected shoulder.

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+10: (13)+10: 23

<OOC> Fiaol says, "That'll hit."

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Almost dead!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Your AC is 12, Zarkhan."
<OOC> Shadair says, "My turn then? :P"

Having finished his business with the first demon, Aruk turns around to find his companions tangling with a second. The orc draws a deep breath and sets into a charge, his large feet thudding heavily against the road with each impact. This culminates in his right claws slamming deep into the creature's bulk, hopefully taking its attention.

<OOC> Fiaol nods. While Aruk poses
<OOC> Shadair says, "Small step to get into flanking with . . well anyone, and FoB!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Hehehe. K. W/ Aruk"

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+4: (2)+4: 6

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+4: (6)+4: 10

<OOC> Shadair says, "wiffwiff!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Wow, yes."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Cai"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "yes it is :)"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "another ray of frost. I'm staying away"

GAME: Caillyn casts Ray of Frost.

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d20+1: (10)+1: 11

<OOC> Caillyn says, "ugh"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "That'll miss."
<OOC> Caillyn says, "I figured."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Z"

Grossed out by the 'thing' they are fighting, even the advantageous position Shadair takes alongside his allies is not enough to aid the cleric/monk in beating down this winged foe. With strikes missing entirely or glancing of it's hide, Shadair is unable to make an impression on it just now.

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "can/am I flank with anyone?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Well, sure, cai"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "she's in melee with it?"
<OOC> Zarkhan will touch it again, then politely step out of its reach.
<OOC> Fiaol says, "No, she's not. Dur."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "K, do so Z"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (20)+2: 22

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (7)+2: 9

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Dang... almost."
<OOC> Zarkhan whews. "Record remains unbroken" :)

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d6: (3): 3

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, that just kills it."

Emboldened by her first "success", Caillyn is again shifting and throwing a hand out in the direction of the creature. Something, however, has distracted the sorceress this time as her eyes are wide, though it's hard to tell just what has caught her attention. As the spell forms, the girl loses her concentration and the spell fizzles, frost flakes falling from her hand as an audible "snap" can be heard when the casting falls apart. Caillyn squeaks and then groans as she realizes that, once again, she lost control and messed up.

The errie glow remains, and ducking out of the clash of melee, Zarkhan reaches to grasp the creature again, his eyes sparkling in the creepy light as the last life is slowly chocked out of the flying aberration. "What in Ta'ara's name are these things?" he curses and spits.

What lay before the group are two large heads... with writhing tentacles at the base and large bat wings for heads. They are, more than just a little, disturbing.

Shadair looks positively sick looking at the things, no wonder he couldn't bring himself to really touch them fully. "What. . /are/ those? That's just. . eech." Turning his eyes and attention away, he consults the directions to determine how far they are from their destination.

"They are dead," explains Aruk, no doubt providing Zarkhan with all the information he needs. As the demon stops moving, he slides his claws free of its corpse, flicking his hand so as to clean the steel of excess blood. "There /are/ two of them, and Fiaol did not say what the farmers looked like." Another attempt at humor? Maybe so! Regardless, he seems to have that certain discipline in battle for which orcs are known, and it extends into his calm following the fray.

Dodging the splattering sprays of blood from the orc, Caillyn stays in her spot, looking on from a distance. She's unhappy, that's for sure, and wrinkles her nose a litttle, "I think we should probably check on that farm and quickly." The blushes and shy demeanor are gone now, leaving only an upset sorceress who begins to tap a foot impatiently.

Zarkhan kneels down, poking experimentally with a dagger at the tentacles at the base of the creature's neck. "Hmmm. I don't think it's undead. At least not in the traditional sense."

<OOC> Zarkhan think we move on? Preferably with one of the things still on the waggon ;)

Shadair nods in agreement. "Let us move swiftly then. And cautiously I should add." Once more the half-elf is paying a good deal of attention to their surroundings, even moreso perhaps with such dangers lurking so near the city.

<OOC> Shadair says, "Mooov'n right along!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, pose moving along, I need to smack yelling kids."

Aruk no longer bothers so much with watching the road for tracks, considering these creatures apparently favor the trees. The orc moves alongside the wagon, long, plodding steps readily keeping up with its wheels. Dark eyes shift periodically from left to right, remaining vigilant.

Carefully minding her skirts, Caillyn climbs into the cart again, settling herself with a graceful movement and a little sigh. Smoothing her skirts absently, the girl looks around as well, amber eyes taking in everything about them, far more alert than she had been before.

Zarkhan waits for the wagon to set into motion once more, before returning attention to the /perhaps/ dead monstrous thing in the bottom of the cart. He prods it experimentally with the dagger, grimacing a little in disgust. Ew. While he keeps his right arm covered under his robe, the faint hint of a pale unnatural glow can just be sensed emanating from underneath it.

Deeper into the forest the group goes, shadows of the swaying trees playing cruel tricks in the light. The moaning of the wind and the creeking of the wood are far from comforting sounds. Eventually the group come to a clearing where a farmstead has been etched out, right on the edge of the wood. There is naught but snow and silence, all is eerily still here.

With this in mind, Shadair gets aboard the wagon again, glad their draft horse was not injured in the fight. Waiting for everyone to get settled on or off the wagon, he then gets things moving with a flick of the reigns and off they go again.

<OOC> Shadair says, "Perception!"

GAME: Aruk rolls Perception: (4)+7: 11

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Oh heck yes!"

GAME: Shadair rolls Perception: (15)+8: 23

GAME: Caillyn rolls perception: (11)+7: 18

<OOC> Aruk says, "Oops, sorry. I thought Fiaol was calling for that check. :S Well, I'm looking anyhow."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "I am! All can roll Perception!"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls perception: (12)+5: 17

To (Shadair, Zarkhan, Caillyn), Fiaol pages: There is no evidence that anyone has left the home since yesterday's snow. The barn door is open in the front, and the kitchen window is open, and there is no light.

<OOC> Fiaol poses something real quick.

The house, as you approach, is still and dead. There is no light, that you can see, and there are droplets of bright red blood dotting the snow here and there. The front door stands open, swinging back and forth with any breeze it catches. And while the barn door is open, there are no sounds of livestock at all - no chickens in the roost, no cattle, no horses ... nothing but silence and cold.

"There is blood behind the barn," says Aruk, speaking low and deliberately avoiding pointing in that direction. "Enough snow has fallen to cover any tracks, which means such a bright spray is likely fresh blood." This, aside from all else that's plainly wrong about the farmstead. He slowly curls and then unfurls his thick fingers, keeping his steel claws at the ready.

Shadair sighs sadly as they roll to approach the farmstead and take a look about. "I fear the owners are gone, or even worse, dead." Still he looks quite on edge, alert for dangers that he senses movement from inside the home. "We are not alone."

Caillyn jumps down again from the cart, not even seeming to notice she landed in snow...and her without a cloak. Dark hair tumbles behind her, the ends hitting the snow as the girl takes a couple cautious steps forward. Shadair's words, however, bring her to a halt and she scans the area with concern, "This...I don't think I've ever seen a farm so still...or heard one this silent."

Zarkhan looks up as the wagon rolls closer towards the dark, quiet farmhouse. He drapes some cloth over the zombie-demon-head before rising slowly, crossbow held in the left hand, eerie glow still surrounding his right hand as he emerges from the sleeve. He rarely looks this serious. As Caillyn descends, he nods once and jumps off the cart on the other side, sinking into the snow. "What do you hear?" he remarks through clenched teeth in Shadair's general direction. Maybe the cold is finally getting to him.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Keep RPing, I'll say pause, or call for inits, or whatever. What are you folks doing?"

Shadair's focus is upon the house, tense and focused as he watches and listens further. A quiet voice sounds in explaination. "Someone is inside the house, moving. And not calling for aid." With that the half-elf is stepping carefully toward the open front door.

<OOC> Shadair will cast Magic Weapon on himself. Just in case.
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Go ahead, Shadair."

Caillyn rolls her eyes as Shadair, of course, walks right into trouble. The sorceress doesn't even try to moderate her voice as she hollers after her brother, "Shad, wait for us! Althea wouldn't like it if you got yourself killed!" With mincing steps through the snow, trying to keep her skirts from getting /too/ wet, the girl moves after the monk, though not nearly in a rush.

<OOC> Aruk says, "May I attempt a Survival check to take a closer look for tracks?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Go ahead."

GAME: Aruk rolls Survival+1: (6)+9+1: 16

GAME: Shadair casts Magic Weapon.

<OOC> Shadair says, "And another perception check for more info on what's moving in the house?"

Zarkhan approaches the house as well, spreading out to keep a little distance from the rest of the group. He's not really trying to be sneaky though. Just cautious. Their arrival wasn't exactly subtle. And there's no way he'll turn invisible against all this snow. "Hey, anyone home?" he calls out in what he hopes is a jovial tone. It isn't quite. "Weary travellers. Not looking for trouble... at all..."

GAME: Shadair rolls Perception: (18)+8: 26

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Folks roll inits."

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11

Aruk turns his attention to the ground, where he seems to be onto something. The orc tromps along through the snow, following faint tracks uncovered by his keen eyes. Eventually, he comes to the side of the barn, enough that he can peer around behind it. "The male is dead," calls Aruk to his companions, a clawed hand gesturing towards what is no doubt an unpleasant sight. "His head is gone."

<OOC> Shadair says, "Okay, how far away am I from what I saw?"

===== Current Initiative Order =========
----------------------------------------
21 Shadair
----------------------------------------
19 Aruk
----------------------------------------
13 Big_Ugly
----------------------------------------
12 Caillyn
----------------------------------------
7 Zarkhan
----------------------------------------
========================================

<OOC> Fiaol says, "A move action should be fine. I'd say 5' but you have to get through the door."
<OOC> Shadair says, "Okay. Casting Shield of Faith on himself then."

GAME: Shadair casts Shield of Faith.

"Gagh! Another one!" Shadair points in horror at another of those hideous head-things near the door. Reflexively the half-elf mutters a prayer to Althea to protect him from the foul things as he prepares to combat them and attempts to get over his squeemishness. He isn't looking very successful on that second part. . .

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Aruk.. you're up!"
<OOC> Aruk says, "Is the critter in sight?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Not quite yet. But Shadair is looking in the house right in front of him... (blocked by the wall, but if you want to take up the doorway....)"
<OOC> Aruk says, "I will move to stand alongside Shadair, and that's it. Don't want to take up the door and block other attacks."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "K."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Well, I need everyone to give me a Fort Save, please."

GAME: Aruk rolls Fort: (20)+6: 26

GAME: Zarkhan rolls fort: (15)+3: 18

<OOC> Caillyn says, "oh boy"

GAME: Caillyn rolls fort: (10)+1: 11

GAME: Shadair rolls Fort: (14)+6: 20

GAME: Fiaol rolls 2d4: (7): 7

Fiaol pages: Um... I'm sorry, hon, but you are likely out of this fight. The shriek is a supernatural effect and you are paralized for 7 rounds ... from fright or something!

There is a howl ... no, it is a shriek! A sound that pierces the mind, the very heart and soul of a creature with it's other-worldly power and vibration. The sound is horrifying to hear, painful, and to some, paralyzing.

The noise washes over Aruk easily, while Shadair and Zarkhan both have to fight to regain their senses. Alas, Caillyn is left staring in horror, the shriek sinking into the depths of her very being and freezing her completely in place.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Caillyn... we're goint to skip, alas. Zarkhan."
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "so the thing never came out?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Sorry. it moved so you can see it, but it's not foolish and isn't ... yet, settling in the door."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "It's a 5' step into the door to reach it. That make sense?"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "Can I hit it with a ray of enfeeblement and then move the heck away from the doorway?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Yes."
<OOC> Zarkhan does that then :)

GAME: Zarkhan rolls ranged: (15)+3: 18

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Cast, and roll... that'll hit."

GAME: Zarkhan casts ray of enfeeblement.

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d6+1: (5)+1: 6

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "Fort DC 15 for half"

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+: (5)+: 5

<OOC> Fiaol flails.

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+6: (7)+6: 13

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Takes full!"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "woot!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Shadair!"
<OOC> Shadair says, "Can I step up and FoB now that it's moved a touch?"
<OOC> Shadair says, "Hopefully leaving enough room that Aruk can still get in on the fun."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Not quite for that."
<OOC> Shadair says, "For which? :D"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You'll have to take a move or throw a shurikin or something."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You can move up, w/ a 5' but you'll block Aruk."

Zarkhan senses movement from within, and quickly raises a hand, speaking a few words of power to let a beam of energy lash out to strike at the creature... with little effect, seemingly. He grimaces again and glances over his shoulder to the stunned Caillyn, moving away from the doorway to cover her. Yes, let's say that's why he's backing away from the doorway.

<OOC> Shadair says, "Okay, Shadair will then draw one of his shuriken and step to get a clear shot, then throw it at the thing."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Throw away."

GAME: Shadair rolls 4: (16)+4: 20

<OOC> Fiaol says, "That'll hit."

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d2+3: (1)+3: 4

<OOC> Fiaol says, "And you hurt it a little."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Aruk, you're up. Shadair is throwing shinies at it."
<OOC> Aruk says, "Is there any sign that the lady is alive in there? Noises, anything?"

Not quite overcoming his weirded out state of being near that thing, and not helped by that. . . scream either, Shadair ends up staying a bit distant from it while it stays in the doorway. Shifting a bit to one side, he quickly hurls a shurkien at the thing, almost cutting free one tentacle. "Get'it Aruk! Ack! Getit!"

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Nothing, Aruk. Absolutely nothing."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "There's blood on the doorframe, on the floor, drips."
<OOC> Aruk says, "I want to try and drive it outside. Can I toss my torch in there?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Sure, go for it!"
<OOC> Aruk figures the place would burn right quick in this dry weather.

Aruk is entirely unfazed by the monster's otherwordly shriek. Somehow, he appears more dumbfounded by Shadair's commands. "I'm about to," the orc assures him in his typically subdued tone. He moves to stand to the right of the door as he reaches for his belt, sliding his everburning torch free of its loop. With its business end sparked up, he briefly shifts left, tossing the flame into the house itself.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Well, the cold temps won't help, and well ... it snowed yesterday... but yeah, it's not HUMID."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, Shad, Aruk, even Z, you all get AoO's as it heads out of the house!"
<OOC> Aruk says, "Cold = dry! :>"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Shad and Aruk are flanking."
<OOC> Aruk :]

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "I... get an AoO? That's so rare I almost don't know what to do with it :)"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Do you have a weapon in hand? Then yes. If not, no."
<OOC> Zarkhan still has the last chill touch charge
<OOC> Fiaol says, "There you go, you can use it."

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (20)+2: 22

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (6)+2: 8

<OOC> Zarkhan whews "close one"
<OOC> Fiaol facepalms. Wow, again you fail to crit. But you hit!

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d6: (5): 5

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "aaaand the DC 15 fort save or lose a point of strength (which I have no idea if stacks with ray of enfeeblement or not)"

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20

<OOC> Fiaol says, "It makes that. (And yes, it stacks, I believe)"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Aruk, that hit."

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+5: (5)+5: 10

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Cai... give me a fort save. (roll well)"

GAME: Caillyn rolls fort: (8)+1: 9

<OOC> Caillyn says, "umm, yeah"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You need to get to a temple, ayup."
<OOC> Zarkhan pats "That's pretty good. /Belive/ in yourself.

Aruk remains with his back to the wall of the cottage, waiting for the creature to come charging past, away from the fire. The demon does exactly as hoped. With Shadair there to intercept it, the orc plods into an opposing position, stabbing his primary claws into the beast's prone hide.

<OOC> Caillyn bites Zarkhan's hand.
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "Power Word: Optimism"

With the torch spreading flames around it, the hideous creature screams and moves quickly past the three men of the group - it's yellow-stained eyes only for Caillyn. Unable to move away, still held in the thrall of that horrible shriek, Caillyn is unable to duck away as the creature flies up, and presses it's slimey, hideous lips to hers - green poison-like coloring veining around Caillyn's lips before she suddenly starts blinking and is able to stagger back away from the ... thing.

<OOC> Caillyn says, "GROSS"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "oh hey, it's Poison Ivy"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "my turn or still no?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Your turn!"
<OOC> Caillyn says, ".... chill touch. I'm pissed"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "defensively is CL + chamod right?"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "right"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Yes."

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d20+7: (13)+7: 20

<OOC> Fiaol says, "That'll do it."

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d20+1: (11)+1: 12

<OOC> Caillyn says, "touch attack miss?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "No that hits."

GAME: Caillyn rolls 1d6+1: (5)+1: 6

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15

<OOC> Fiaol says, "DC of your Chill Touch?"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "cha spell dc?"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "15"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "why is it not 16?"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "the others are lower. 11 and 12."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Not a happy monster."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Zarkhan! IT IS RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "Aiiiieeee!"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "and it's trying to make out with Caillyn?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Yes, yes it is."
<OOC> Zarkhan gives the kids some privacy
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "I mean, I'll try to defensively cast another chill touch"

Shaken, grossed-out and seriously annoyed now, Caillyn shoves a hand out, power already crackling along her palm as she spits out the words taught her. Ice flickers along with the odd light in her hand as she slams her palm into the...whatever the hell the thing is... Light and ice flare and spread along the monster's body before the sorceress pulls her hand away...staggering just a little as she turns and loses the contents of her stomach into the snow.

<OOC> Caillyn thwaps Zarkhan.
<OOC> Fiaol giggles.

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d20+3+4: (11)+3+4: 18

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "DC 17, so narrowly!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Roll to hit!"

GAME: Zarkhan rolls melee: (12)+2: 14

GAME: Zarkhan rolls 1d6: (5): 5

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Nice!"

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Your DC on that strength drain?"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "15"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Okay, no more Strength drain..."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Pose away. SHADAIR! It's trying to tongue your sister!"
<OOC> Shadair says, "Step after it and FoB! Can he get a flank going?"

Zarkhan can't let Caillyn be the only one exchanging juices with that thing. Speaking the words to another spell, another cold blue eerie glow spreads from the palm of his hand to envelop his lower arm, and he reaches to touch the creature - grimacing in the process - eyes sparkling as his touch leeches life energy from the monster. "Release her!" he demands through clenched teeth.

<OOC> Caillyn says, "rofl"
<OOC> Zarkhan isn't flanking with Callie, so you should be able to flank with either of us.
<OOC> Fiaol nodnods. You can get flank, go for it.

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Hits."

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d6+3: (5)+3: 8

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Oh man, it is definitely on it's last leg, so to speak... ARUK, come finish it!"
<OOC> Aruk says, "Am I still in flanking position?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "You can step into flanking."
<OOC> Aruk says, "Okay. Moving into flanking, and ... full attack!"

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+8: (8)+8: 16

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d20+8: (17)+8: 25

Horrified now for a different reason, Shadair quickly overcomes his squeamishness about the ucky creature. "Get away from my -sister- now!" Anger clearly in his voice as well, the cleric/monk gets into position and launches into a dizzying flurry of kicks, punches and knee shots to get the foul abomination away from his family!

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Ow. Damage."

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d6+4: (1)+4: 5

GAME: Aruk rolls 1d6+2: (1)+2: 3

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Even with those rolls... dead."

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d6: (2): 2

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d6: (3): 3

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d6: (1): 1

Aruk's fine with kissing (possibly), but flying, kissing demon heads? No, not so much. The orc moves after the creature with swiftness defiant of his hulk. His thick arms rise and then come down, claws biting deeply into the creature. He keeps up the momentum, dragging it to the ground, where he's slammed and held in place. Only once the last twitches of life ebb from the demon does he stand upright, pulling his fingers free.

<OOC> Fiaol says, "Free RP."

Caillyn still looks queasy and definitely shaken as she tries to steady herself on her feet. Scooping up some clean snow, the sorceress puts it into her mouth and then spits it out again, not even caring how unladylike the action is...at least not at the moment. Spitting again, she looks over at the others, "That was the most disgusting thing EVER!"

Shadair looks apologetically at Caillyn and offers her a small cloth to help the cleaning process. "That, was. . eww. I'm sorry sis. I tried to stop it." Well at least she was still alive. Checking over the area for any more of the 'kissing heads' to come flying at them, the half-elf asks, "Is anyone hurt? I can heal them if so."

GAME: Fiaol rolls 1d6: (5): 5

Zarkhan nudges the dead thing with the toe of his boot. Hard. Alright, he kicks it, once. Just to make sure there's no twitching left in it. "That's... remarkably disgusting" he remarks in a cheerful tone, now that the heavy atmosphere is almost done with. "Well. That wasn't too bad. We better have a look around the farmstead and see if there's anything left." there's a long pause aas he looks between everyone. "Survivors. Not valuables." Ahem. Hero of Solmnus indeed. He glances at Shadair "Oh! Right, my shoulder is going a bit stiff. I think the bite might be poisoned. Or at least not terrible clean." he indicates his wounded shoulder.

"Only somewhat," says Aruk to Shadair, referencing his right forearm, where one of the earlier creatures had bitten him. It doesn't seem to terribly concern the orc, who ventures into the doorway just long enough to fetch his torch. Into the snow it goes, stabbed deep so as to extinguish the flame. The ichor of the disgusting creature stains the white crystals.

<OOC> Shadair does a nice Channel Energy (rolling a 1 of course) to heal anyone as well as Aruk. Everyone within 30 feet.

GAME: Shadair rolls 1d6: (5): 5

Sighing a little, Caillyn moves further away from the corpse, not wanting anything to do with kicking it...even though she was sorely tempted. Gagging a little, the sorceress has to wrinkle her nose and complain, "I can still taste... oh that's so disgusting..." The girl shivers, ice trailing down her dark locks and over her skin. Yup, Caillyn is upset.

<OOC> Shadair says, "It really is. rolling something other than a 1 for CE. First time /evar/"
<OOC> Caillyn says, "it's harder to catch the frosty scents since she's already outside :P"

GAME: Fiaol damaged Aruk for -6 points. 21 remaining.

GAME: Fiaol damaged Zarkhan for -6 points. 21 remaining.

GAME: Fiaol damaged Caillyn for -6 points. 13 remaining.

GAME: Fiaol damaged Shadair for -6 points. 16 remaining.

GAME: Shadair rolls Perception: (20)+8: 28

Zarkhan, being a desert warrior, always carries a skin of water. He unhooks it from his belt, handing it to Caillyn. "You should wash out your mouth. In case of poisons and such. You know." he comments, a serious expression on his face for a moment. "I have studied the corpses. They are unnatural aberrations, neither demonic, nor undead. We should burn the remains, there is nothing of value to learn from them. And there is no telling how long they stay disabled."
Long distance to (Amir'a, Xander): Caillyn is definitely disappointed in her first brush with breeding then... *RUNS*

Blinking, Shadair takes a step closer to Caillyn with a frown and a tilted head. "Cai? Are you, feeling alright? There was. . . something is effecting you, I can feel it." The cleric/monk steps a little closer still, examining her with concerned eyes.

<OOC> Shadair would like a heal check on Caillyn to diagnose what's up?

GAME: Shadair rolls Heal: (5)+9: 14

<OOC> Zarkhan says, "this creature was clearly the victim of decapitation!"
<OOC> Aruk will contribute as well, if he can?
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Sure, roll to assist."

GAME: Aruk rolls Heal: (17)+7: 24

Caillyn reaches to take the water from Zarkhan, actually gracing him with a sweet smile, "Thank you..." And then, still gripping the water skin, she looks over at her brother, blinking a little, "Well...no, I don't feel alright, Shad. That thing...well, it kissed me!" Her nose wrinkles and the sorceress looks disgusted again as she adds, "I definitely prefer being kissed by..." With a squeak, her eyes widen and she's suddenly drinking from the water skin instead of finishing her sentence.

Despite Caillyn's assurance that she is alright, just grossed out, Shadair's look darkens further. After a closer examination of her, the half-elf brother shakes his head. "No. There is something wrong here Caillyn. It did not go after you out of spite. It did not try to put it's lips to yours for fun. It, did something to you. We have to get you back to the city, fast." Looking increasingly concerned, Shadair looks quite firm on the idea.

Aruk's arm mends swiftly under the care of divine energies, leaving him unscathed. He's already tromping towards Caillyn as that happens, his eyelids drawn into a tight, scrutinous squint. The orc, living off of the land as he does, knows enough of the healing arts to be concerned with what he sees. "You must be taken to a priest, a shaman," says Aruk, a bit of additional seriousness laced through his rumbling voice. "The creature has left something within you. It is causing changes." Aruk uses the steel tip of his index claw to indicate Caillyn's lips, though he's careful to not touch.

Abruptly, Aruk straightens his posture, as though something had occurred to him. "The male farmer's body is headless," he states, "and these creatures are flying heads."

<OOC> Caillyn says, "Oh thanks!"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "And now... Caillyn totally looses it."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Nice bit of logic there, Aruk!"
<OOC> Aruk says, "... Sorry. :]"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "can I adopt one of the chest bursters when they mature?"
<OOC> Fiaol says, "No."
<OOC> Fiaol says, "Thankfully this is a Non-Death Concent plot. You make it to the church in time! ;)"
<OOC> Zarkhan says, "No Ripley for you!"

Eyes widening, frost strands lengthening about her body, Caillyn squeaks at the words spoken both by her brother and the orc. Wild, icy winds blow about the sorceress for a moment, ice crystals forming about the girl. And then, suddenly...everything stops about her as she slumps to the ground in a faint.

2010-12-22T02:48:49Z

Alariel: Just putting in Amir'a's full name.

Emblem of Ea is home to a number of colorful and interesting characters. In order to make a page, you will need to be logged in with your forum ID. If you're having trouble logging in, please see the [[Help:Editing|Wiki Help]] in the [[Getting Started]] section.

For help on making a character page, please see [[How to Make a Character Page]].

<center>'''Be sure to put all pages into <nowiki>[[</nowiki>Category: Player<nowiki>]]</nowiki>. Thank you.'''</center>

{{CompactTOC}}

[[Category:Player]]

==A==
[[Abrahil]], [[Agril]], [[Amira|Amir'a al'Jarim]]

==B==

==C==
[[Colrick Voss]]

==D==
[[Darshan]]

==E==

==F==

==G==
==H==
==I==
[[Ionus]]

==J==
==K==
[[Kaliara|Kaliara Sein]]
[[Karelin Andarin]],
[[Karl Mattock]],
[[Kylie D'malthyae]],
[[Koszhey Urvald Malinovyi]],
[[Kyra Smith]],
[[Kerbasi]]

==L==
==M==

[[Myrana Jn'Rajh]], [[Maerkkus]]

==N==
==O==
==P==
==Q==
==R==
[[Roland]]

==S==
[[Lady Sandiel]], [[Hailee Serene Tigriil]], [[Lady Sienna Meribeth McBane]], [[Siseroa Shurik]]

==T==
[[Thaim]], [[Teena Longshot]], [[Thistle]]

==U==
==V==
==W==
==X==
[[Xenarchy Malzash]]

==Y==
[[Ylva]],
[[Younger, Bruce The|Bruce the Younger]]

==Z==
[[Zerridwyn Angosil]]

Amira

2010-12-22T02:48:19Z

Alariel: Added copyright. Myra deserves that much!

Kaliara

2010-12-22T02:46:54Z

Alariel: Look! A character page!

File:Kaliara.jpg

2010-12-22T02:45:25Z

Alariel: Kaliara Sein at work, with her FAVORITE wrench!

Kaliara Sein at work, with her FAVORITE wrench!

Character Pages

2010-12-22T02:40:52Z

Alariel: Adding a player page.

Emblem of Ea is home to a number of colorful and interesting characters. In order to make a page, you will need to be logged in with your forum ID. If you're having trouble logging in, please see the [[Help:Editing|Wiki Help]] in the [[Getting Started]] section.

For help on making a character page, please see [[How to Make a Character Page]].

<center>'''Be sure to put all pages into <nowiki>[[</nowiki>Category: Player<nowiki>]]</nowiki>. Thank you.'''</center>

{{CompactTOC}}

[[Category:Player]]

==A==
[[Abrahil]], [[Agril]], [[Amira|Amir'a]]

==B==

==C==
[[Colrick Voss]]

==D==
[[Darshan]]

==E==

==F==

==G==
==H==
==I==
[[Ionus]]

==J==
==K==
[[Kaliara|Kaliara Sein]]
[[Karelin Andarin]],
[[Karl Mattock]],
[[Kylie D'malthyae]],
[[Koszhey Urvald Malinovyi]],
[[Kyra Smith]],
[[Kerbasi]]

==L==
==M==

[[Myrana Jn'Rajh]], [[Maerkkus]]

==N==
==O==
==P==
==Q==
==R==
[[Roland]]

==S==
[[Lady Sandiel]], [[Hailee Serene Tigriil]], [[Lady Sienna Meribeth McBane]], [[Siseroa Shurik]]

==T==
[[Thaim]], [[Teena Longshot]], [[Thistle]]

==U==
==V==
==W==
==X==
[[Xenarchy Malzash]]

==Y==
[[Ylva]],
[[Younger, Bruce The|Bruce the Younger]]

==Z==
[[Zerridwyn Angosil]]

Boy Meets Girl

2010-12-21T23:39:44Z

Alariel: Random RP Logs! RP is your FRIEND!

'''Summary''': It's winter, but that doesn't mean that folk refrain from walking in the snow outside of the city. While on patrol, Fiaol runs across the Althean Shadair and the pair have a conversation. And exchange a few snowballs.

'''Characters''': Fiaol, Shadair

'''Time''': Afternoon

'''Where''': Not far outside of Alexandria.

Through the light woods and well away from the main road, a long figure walks through the snows that have gathered beneath the trees. The figure is well clothed against the chill, heavy furs protecting a masculine outline from toe to neck and a hood that would normally be doing the work to save the head from the cold is set back. As a result, anyone can see Shadair's head and somewhat chilly face.
At the moment, he appears to be stopped, leaning with his back against one of the trees that threaten to drop the accumulated snows they carry and bury him at any moment, the wind adding to that threat. The young half-elf appears to be just looking up into those same trees and the sky beyond, a thoughtful if distant expression upon his face.

No matter how much one tries, snow crunches when one walks upon it. Still, keeping as silent as possible in this winter wood, another lone figure, wrapped in hues of brown and green walks, bow out, but no arrow knocked and ready. Instead, as the figure draws closer to the spot where the half-elf stands, staring up at the sky and trees, it stops.
One gloved hand reaches up and pulls back the hood, revealing a red-headed human woman. Eyes dart up to the sky, scanning the trees, before she looks back to the figure. stepping closer as silently as she can, after all it is a habit of hers after all these years, she studies the man. Again she looks up, trying to see what he sees, before she looks back at him. "Do not stand there too long, or the cold will settle in on you," she advises.

GAME: Fiaol rolls stealth: (16)+4: 20

GAME: Shadair rolls Perception: (18)+8: 26

The smiling half-elf continues to look at the contrast of tree and sky, showing no signs of surprise when the other individual speaks, but rather giving a tiny shrug underneath those furs. "I know, I know. Easy to get lost in enjoying the beauty of it all though, warming the soul to a point you forget that the body is getting cold hey?" His amber eyes are finally brought down from the lofty heights as Shadair partly turns to more directly face his stalker. With a warm smile, it does not appear that he considers the red-headed woman any threat. "Good day to you, hunter." Offering a small bow in the furs he currently wears, the young man continues. "My name is Shadair, of. . well. . recently Returned Alexandria I guess. And who might you be? From the city, or beyond?" It is a common question asked in these parts now, given what happened.

The woman watches Shadair for a long moment, her emerald eyes trying to size the man up before she relaxes more. "Fiaol Dilis... Fia is fine. Most have trouble with the name, but growing up in the Mythwood, so near the elves, it ... anyway," she notes with a wave of her hand. "Huntress of the Beast King, at your service. And I am from outside of the mists. You have no idea how glad I was to find them lifted. We ... need Alexandria."

"Trouble with 'Fiaol?' But why? Well perhaps some humans, or dwarfs might struggle with it. Their tongues can be rather simple sometimes." The half-elf's head tilts just a touch as he ponders that, prior to taking on a smile that actually causes his eyes to squint a touch. "An honor to meet you, Fiaol Dilis, Huntress of Gilead." Another small bow is offered, Shadair taking a step away from the tree he was leaning on. "My teachers at the temple never seem to have anything bad to say about the Beast King. I am a devotee of Althea, peace be your road. Eerr..."
Taken then off-guard by something the red-head said, Shadair blinks and stops. "Need Alexandria? I. . . well I know much time has passed and much has changed but, need?"

Fiaol smiles warmly. "I would hope they would not, after all, can you imagine Althea's clergy besmirching their Goddess' son?" she asks with an amused shake of her head. Then the woman sighs at the last part, nodding her head wearily.
"Yes, these five years have been ... Hell, to put it mildly," she notes. "Garm has been out in force, keeping those of us of Gilead and the Silver Crescent busy. Taara has surpassed her husband and lays claim to the Pantheon of the Dark. Charn has fallen, and been rebuilt with Taara at it's head. They have a floating fortress now, it is said. Dragonier fell when the skeleton Heth killed the great Gold which lead it. Myrridon has fallen into civil war between the brother princes, and Rune collapsed. The elves have come forth from their forests in greater numbers and ..." Fiaol shakes her head and looks up at the sky with a sigh. "Here, for now, there is peace. There is no peace anywhere else on the face of Aerth."

As Shadair listens, his expression falls further and further as Fiaol explains a rough overview of the world. Finally, he looks quite crestfallen as he looks at the huntress, his voice quiet. "S-someone had said something about people back home raising armies but. .. that is overwhelming." For that moment, the scar-faced youth's skin could match the snow's own color before he offers a piece of explaination. "I'm from Lyranost. My. . . my sister and I came to Alexandria just a short time before we were cut off in whatever strange event that was. I knew time had passed but. . . Rune? Dragonier? Civil war and trouble everywhere? Need." He breathes thoughfully, "Yes I guess I could see that. Need, and hoping that Alexandira had not fallen similarly hey?" Still looking a bit shellshocked, the half-elf just stands there trying to absorb it.

"Truth be told, I was worried Alexandria had been whisked away by the Spider and we'd never seen it again. Or if we did, everyone still in the city would have become corrupted by the wicked Sorceress' ways and the world would be doomed," notes Fiaol with a heavy sigh. "But I did not voice that last. No need voicing dread and depression and doom in times like these. Even a solitary hunter such as myself must put on a face of hope when I encounter others. They watch always, because of their need."

"Some of us were worried something similar. Even now I don't know that anyone has any idea what happened or why, or how we got back." Shadair slowly recovers, taking a step closer as he does so and still thoughtful of expression if low spirited for the moment. "People were starting to fear starvation and worse too. So strange, had we inside the city experienced the five years that the world here did... well I think some of your own worries would have been realized." Then with a deep breath, the young man looks a little better, if only on the outside via a small smile. "And you Fiaol, have watched these woods and the Mythwoods alone?"

"Not alone, no. But we of the Hunter tend to be a solitary lot. Neccessity, really," Fiaol says with a smile. "Still, when the time came to hunt the Children of Garm, we do manage to gather in numbers. My father chose the Mythwood has his range... He was not really part of the clergy, but his wisdom was sought by many and he follows Gilead in faith even to this day. The Hunter, however," says the woman with a roll of her shoulders, "for some reason called me to a different path."

"The gods have a calling for each of us. Blessed are those who realize and find that calling." Shadair certainly sounds like a priest there. His smile going soft and even bowing his head in a short moment of reverence. "Whatever Gilead's reason for wanting you doing what you do, it is a wonderful thing that you know it. So many in life never find their path." Then Shadair hits upon another subject. "Do you maintain your home near here then? Or are you perhaps on a longer patrol?"

"I still live at home with my parents. Father and I take turns, if it is peaceful, leaving the house so mother isn't alone for a long time. I came southwards scouting some disturbences when I found the mists were /gone/," notes Fiaol with a shake of her head. "So ... I either came out here, or begrudgingly hand over coin for a room. Though, I have been talking to the Sky Dancer's clergy, perhaps I can stay at her temple if I am to be in Alexandria longer."
Fiaol laughs then, smiling at Shadair. "You do not understand. My father is a ranger of the forest, a hunter at one with nature. I, on the other hand, am a holy warrior of the Hunter - a paladin if you will." Fiaol pats her bow, then looks at Shadair. "With a bow, instead of the sword. And as far as I know, I am the only Paladin of Gilead in this area. There may be more, but we are an exceedingly rare breed."

"Ohhh." Shadair says with an 'O' mouth while Fiaol explains the fullness of her calling. "Rare indeed. I don't think I've ever even heard of a paladin of Gilead before. Amazing." Looking upon the human female in a clearly new light, there is some measure of wonder in his look. "You are truly called and destined, I would think. I am even more honored to meet you then I was before!" This time he provides a deeper bow to her, as though he expects her status to have just risen in the world. "And so now, your father keeps your mother company, while you are. . umm . . rediscovering Alexandros?"

Fiaol shakes her head at Shadair and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Please. There is no need to bow, Blessed of Telamentar," she states with a warm smile. "Well, he is getting older and the cold bites into his bones so ... yes, I tend to be out more in the winter than he is. Still..." she says with a far-off gaze, "I think he likes spending the time with mother. I've written and procured a courier, sending them a message with the details of what I have found so they know where I am and what I am up to and do not worry over me."

Shadair feels that hand upon his shoulder, or more precisely the weight of it through the winter fur he wears. Standing straight once more, his expression is returning to the more pleasant one of the moment they first greeted. "Worry over-much you mean. I've not met a parent yet who did not worry at least a little when their child so much as set foot outside the house. Sometimes there's even good reason to worry." A flicker of sadness runs through the half-elf's features there but is gone just as swiftly at it appears with a soft laugh, "And what man would want to be out in the cold of winter when he could be with his lovely wife instead? For surely she must be beautiful and he handsome indeed to produce a daughter like yourself hey?"

Fiaol blinks and arches a brow at Shadair. "Are... are you ... flirting with me?" she asks with pure curiousity, as if ... shocked at the prospect someone would ... flirt with her. Then she blushes a little bit. "Well, I am biased, but I find my parents just right on the beautiful and handsome scale, of course," she admits after a moment with a bit of a confused air.

Shadair suddenly blinks at the question, looking puzzled. Then confused. Then wide-eyed shocked and finally blushing a deep red that shows even more than the red hue of the tip of his cold nose! Ungloved hands appear from folds in his wintery coat to wave defensively in front of himself in a somewhat panicked response!
"Wait wha- No! I mean you are lovely so they-- err But, see I just meant. N-not that no one /would/ flirt with you. Because you /are/ lovely and I mea--- oohh." With a wince at himself, head dropping low and pulling his hood deeply over himself, Shadair tries to hide, even turning to one side and hunching up with a quickly spoken, "I'm sorry, shutting up now."

Fiaol tilts her head to the side, then laughs warmly. "Shadair," she says with a shake of her head as she reaches out to lightly tap his cheek in a gentle manner. "I've been raised as a ranger, and called by the Hunter as one of his warriors. I haven't really grown up around ... people. I've ... never had anyone flirting with me before," she says, laughing a bit more. "It's nice to know what it finally is. I like it."

Still featuring burning cheeks, the half-elf swallows hard once while still covered by the hood. His reaction to Fiaol touching his cheek is a slight start. A sharp slap was more along the lines he would have expected, or a disgusted reaction at least. "I..." So much for monastic mental discipline and training hmm? Then with a steadying breath he speaks, still hidding himself by looking straight at the snow. "I did not really mean to. But, well you /are/ lovely from what I can see and I didn't think.." Then he blinks, something she mentioned coming to him. "No one has flirted with you before?" Looking confused, Shadair forgets to hide, looking back to the human woman with a tilted face that is still flushed. "I mean I guess not being around people much would cut down on chances but. . . how could nobody try to flirt with someone like you? I mean, even someone as ugly as /me/ would. Or. . ahem, I guess, just did." With a sheepish look, he appears quite confused by her assertion.
MAIL: You have a new message from Shadair.

"I see no ugliness, Shadair," offers Fiaol with a shake of her head. "Surely your work with Althea has taught you that the light of one's soul outshines whatever mortal trappings they have been given." Fiaol laughs a bit then again and shrugs, "Well, there hasn't really been time. Even when around others, we have been busy on the Hunt, or protecting villages and the like. Remember, for me, it has been five years since Alexandria disappeared," she notes gently, before shaking her head.
"Really, I would have thought that Althea's folk would have stripped you of the silliness of personal beauty. What makes you ugly, honestly, Shadair?" asks the Huntress with an upraised eyebrow.

Shadair smirks ruefully, half-convinced that the paladin of the wilds is teasing him. With one of those ungloved hands tracing the line of the large disfiguring scar down his face, from above the eye to the chin he speaks. "Not really hard to miss." With a sigh, the hand falls to his side again. "Such things do not matter to Althea, nor to many gods for that matter. Something which you can be sure I am grateful. Even so, I guess I'm not /so/ spiritual that I don't notice when people flinch at seeing my face or shy away or in some cases just stare." Flushing a little again, "One of my teachers tried to suggest it was dignifying. But that doesn't help much." At last he shrugs his shoulders, "Okay, I admit it, some of me /wishes/ I could be vain. It's my failing."

Fiaol leans faintly to the side, watching Shadair trace the scar. Then the woman just shrugs. "It is a scar. Many people have them," she offers with a shrug of her shoulders, utterly indifferent to the line across the man's face. "I have one on my shoulder, well, a trio, from where one of Garm's Children raked me across the back. I do not hide it because I find it ugly. It is beneath my armor, is all. Nor would I hide it if it were across my face. It is a part of who I am now, and if some would shy away, more fool they for it. I see nothing ugly in your face, Shadair, scar or no."

With a blink, Shadair looks taken aback. Twice in a week he's met people with similar views? The concept boggles the cleric/monk. "W-well, it's not exactly /attractive/ thou-" The word is broken in mid-effort to defend the idea that he is ugly for the wound, part of what she said striking him just then. "Nothing ugly? Well I. . ." Flushing yet again, the half-elf clears his throat. "Thank you. As you can imagine, I. . . don't hear that often."

"Hmmmm... no I cannot imagine," notes Fiaol with a bit of a shrug. "Again, the whole ... not around large amounts of people often," she says with another smile. "While I wouldn't call it extenquished, it /DOES/ speak of experience. I like that," she notes with another shrug. "A man who learns from his own experience is a wise man indeed."
Freya pages: all us newbies :P
Long distance to Freya: Fiaol grins. Well, kraken coming depends on his work cooperating. If he can't, you're in. But is just too much for me, alas. 5 is pushing it, but I figured I'd do as many as I could.
Freya pages: I suspect I won't be conscious that early, but we shall see ;)
Long distance to Freya: Fiaol nodnods.

The half-elf suddenly chuckles, almost surprising himself more than anything else. "I would like to think I would not regularly face down superior numbers of armed bandits alone." Quickly however he loses the humor. "Cannot say I would have done differently though either. Not much wisdom there maybe but." With a shrug, Shadair clears his throat again to look back to the female. "That is all, very kind of you Fiaol. Again, thank you. Are, you headed to stay in Alexandria now? Or will you be enjoying the fine ice-camping out here tonight?" Change the subject! Quick!

"Oh, KNOWING it isn't a good idea is common sense. Doing it anyway, because it is the right thing to do, is Wisdom. There is, actually, a very fine difference between the two," notes Fiaol, smiling again. "And you lived. That speaks to your luck or your skill, or both," she notes, reaching out to squeeze the young man's shoulder again.
At the question, Fia glances around, looking up into the sky, frowning faintly. "Oh, probably Alexandria. It's been a while since I've had a bed. I'm enjoying it, I admit," she says. "And I'm waiting for the Council to ask to see me - being from outside the mists and all."

Shadair sighs with a shrug into that shoulder-squeeze. "My luck and my parent's skill. Benefit of having seasoned adventurers for mother and father hey?" The half-elf then half turns toward the distant city and motions to it. "May I travel with you back then? I came out for solitude but, I think I've had my fill of that." Oh smooth, might as well beg to cling to her coat tails. Still the cleric/monk manages to not look too foolish asking to keep Fiaol's presense around somewhat longer. "It would be a pleasure I think to walk back with you. I am sure the council will wish to speak with you soon. I was part of a patrol just a few days ago sent out to see the countryside. Not far from here either actually. A lot of questions and a lot of tragedy..

Fiaol nods, sobering for a moment with a frown. "Yes, there is much that has happened this five years, and precious little, if any, of it is good. Certainly not /enough/," she notes. There is a moment of silence which hangs in the air around Fiaol, before she shifts her eyes to glance sidelong at Shadair.
"Come then," the Huntress notes, managing a little smile. "I find that companionship into the city is enjoyable myself, and I would like your presence along side, Shadair," offers the Paladin. Does she sense how nervous of foolish he feels? She does not show it if she does.
"Tell me, if you will, Shadair - what does one of Althea, like yourself, do in Alexandria? I have never traveled to a city so large, and certainly so diverse before," offers Fiaol. "I find it intriguing. Though... if I were to stay more permanantly, I would move out here to the woods. Not too far, but not boxed into set streets and paths."

With a slightly sheepish smile, Shadair executes still another bow, just a tiny one however. "Then I am pleased to accept your gracious offer, Fiaol Dilis. Huntress of Gilead." Then taking a place alongside the young woman, he begins to walk with her, pulling his hood back at last. To her question, the half-elf glances at her sidelong with a tilt of his head. "In a city, like everywhere but, perhaps most of all in cities with so many people there is need for mercy, care and healing." Crunching through the snow, Shadair's hands disappear back into his furs. "That is what I do mainly, healing the sick and injured, providing aid to people whenever they need it. Most of my work I end up doing well away from the temple, I am not part of the 'staff' there as such but I volunteer time when I can." With a chuckle, he continues. "I'm not a great fan of how packed things can be myself, but with Caillyn going to school at the magic academy we were best set nearby and that meant an apartment."

"Caillyn?" casually asks Fiaol as she walks along next to Shadair. Unlike the cleric, the young woman does not tuck her hands in her cloak, though she does swing her bow over her shoulder. "Hmmmm, is it nice, being able to heal the sick and care for the injured? I have, at times, healed animals armed by irresponsible parties... but the sort of ... curse that comes with the Children of Garm is beyond my capabilities to cure, alas."

"It is a good feeling to see people getting better from a sickness or a wound." Shadair smiles softly as they walk, thinking on the subject. "Seeing a newly healthy child and his parents embrace never fails to warm my soul." Nodding a little more solemnly with respect to the werewolf problem, he sighs as he speaks. "And nothing quite makes it easy to see bad things go downhill. To death or, well. . . worse." Then he blinks catching something from just a moment before. "Oh! Caillyn yes, my sister." He gives a short laugh. "She's the real reason we are in Alexandria at all really. I could have finished my training anywhere, but she. Well she's a sorceress you see, our parents wanted her going to Alexandria and nowhere else to learn to control her powers. Not that she's great at it yet, she froze my bottom to the table last week. You'll like her though, I know." A thought occurs to the cleric/monk then, and finally he touches another subject. "S-speaking of that. You know, if you find the temple full up or just uncomfortable, we could offer you a place to sleep. I know Caillyn wouldn't mind, she'd be bouncing happy to have another girl in the apartment if only for a little while. We, well we don't have a forest of space but, we /do/ have room. Mother and father ensure that. Would you, think about it? At the very least. . . yes! If you aren't busy, maybe you can come for supper? Meet Caillyn? There will be more than enough stew that I will be making."

The Huntress considers as the pair walk along. "Well, we shall see," she offers Shadair with a glance and a smile. "One wouldn't want things to be deemed improper, after all," she jokes as she strides easily along. "My preference is a temple, I admit. And the Sky Dancer is, often enough, happy to take in her brother's followers. But yes... I shall consider it," notes Fiaol.
Then she arches an eyebrow upwards. "Froze you to a table, hmmm? Then I certain hope she /DOES/ like me, lest I am frozen to a single spot and unable to move again!"

Shadair chuckles and nods. "Yes. Protective big brother worried about her dating." Shrugging he continues, "I know I probably deserved it, but I /am/ supposed to watch over her." Once his mind gets to the suggestion that her staying with him might be considered inappropriate, the half-elf goes utterly red in the face again. "Inappropri-- oh! Err, no! I mean, you'd have your /own/ bed and.. No. I'm sorry I didn't think of that. But even so, it would probably end up more like some sleep-over with Caillyn than any thought of you 'staying with me.' That's one thing my scar would be good for. No one would believe it." A wry smirk touches his lips. "And yes, sleep-over. Caillyn reveres The Beast King over all others too you know. She'd likely be so happy to have another female in the apartment she'd drag the guest bed out of it's room and into hers so you can stay with her and talk all night and whatnot." Finally he shrugs, "I would agree though, staying at the temple might be easier for you. Please though, do come for supper at least? Like I said, we'll have more than we need. It's the price of my cooking style. Almost had to give up making meals completely when the food supplies were cut off."

Fiaol listens to Shadair stammer away and fumble over an unneeded apology and self-depircating insult. The young woman simply nods as she listens to the Althean as he keeps talking, her emotions simply a calm mask upon her features. "I am always willing to speak to another follower of the Hunter," she notes easily enough, before ducking, running fingers over a branch on the ground and scooping up some snow.
Then Fiaol tosses it directly at Shadair's head, and not too softly, either. "That is for being obsessed on a scar that matters nothing," she notes, before bending down and scooping up another handful and throwing it at Shadair again. "That is for fixating on your appearance, and then lying to yourself about it." And lastly, Fiaol bends down again, and scoops up another handful of snow, throwing this one at Shadair's shoulder. "And that was just for fun."

Paph! The first snowball catches Shadair clean on the side of the head as he was looking forward, sending him staggering to the side as much by surprise as force. Bamph! The second takes him in the chest as the half-elf in the chest as he regains some semblance of balance, staring at the human in shock. Paft! The third explodes on his shoulder and Shadair reacts to it as though struck much harder, "Ohhh!" Clearly feigning a wounding he spins slowly around and bends over, just happening to pick up some snow in unprotected hands as he completes the spin and fires back at his assailant! "And that's for. . umm. . yeah!" There is good humor in his eyes then, at least for the moment not thinking about his disfigurations.

A hand raises too slowly to protect herself, and Fiaol blinks and laughs as snow sprays her face from where the cleric's attack explodes just below her chin. "Ahhh! Well worded!" she teases, grinning, scooping up another handful. "At least you can allow your sense of humor out of your shell periodically, Shadair!" is called before another attack is flung by the Huntress.

"I don't have a shell. I'm not a figh--" Paph! Had Shadair been fully in the spirit of the snowball, he likely could have dodged that one. As it was he was too busy making a mockery of a serious pose and joking about metal-shelled fighters when Fiaol's snowball strikes him in the face, in the mouth might be more appropriate to note. Suddenly looking stunned with a single finger in the air to emphasize the now dead point, the half-elf blinks pluphs as he spits snow out of his mouth and still with chunks of the icy stuff on his features begins to drift backward. It is almost like watching a ship sink at sea, back, back and back a little further, till it is past the point of no return and nothing can be done. Standing still then, Shadair ploofs into the snow behind him, playing dead!

There are several blinks as Fiaol stands where she is, staring down at the 'playing dead' Althean. Surely ... he's not hurt. It was just snow. Looking at her hand, Fiaol frowns and considers the weight and wondering if there had been a rock in what she had gathered.
When Shadair doesn't move for a moment, this causes Fiaol even more concern. Striding quickly over, the Huntress kneals by the man's side, reaching out to put a hand on his chest, searching for breath, even as she leans over his face to study it for damage.

The male's chest is well hidden by the thick fur coat, and for the moment he does not appear to even be breathing, the steam indicative of warm breath not rising from his mouth or nostrils. Of course, it is only because Shadair was holding his breath. The trap worked! With a lightning motion, both hands to the half-elf's sides emerge from the snow with notable amounts of the stuff in each. A dual hand-held load of snow is suddenly pressed into the forest paladin's face and hair, one hand going for the front and the other for the back as the surprise attack is launched! "Gotcha! I win!" Perhaps a little premature celebration, Shadair does not even stand up yet. Instead he lays still in the snow laughing and snerking at his victory.

Fiaol is surprised by this, not expecting an Althean to 'play dead' of course. Snow is pressed into her face, and into her hair, leaving the human blinking emerald eyes as the snow starts to fall away. For a moment, she peers at the man laying there on the ground. She could best him, likely, if she tried, considers Fiaol, but ... he is in a good mood now, why ruin it.
Instead, Fiaol wrinkles her nose with a smile and just laughs along with him. Letting Shadair enjoy his victory.

The male's laughter /is/ honestly happy too. Tiny hints of childlike amusement slipping in almost imperceptably, almost. Shadair even holds himself for a moment rolling just a bit as he laughs, "Ohhh that was great. I can't believe you fell for that! And the look on your face! Hehehehe!" Descending into a fit of laughter, the half-elf comes out of it slowly with a pleased sigh, still laying in the snow. "Thanks. I'd almost forgotten about snowball fights and honestly /playing/ in weather like this." Arching his back to sit up without the aid of hands, he lets the waist do the work even with those bulky clothes. "Though I suppose we should get moving too. Else we'll end up having to build a snow fort and toughing it out here hey?" There is still that happy smile though, a look which might almost make the scar disappear from notice for anyone looking at him.

Green eyes watch Shadair in his complete joy of the moment, curious and yet enjoying it herself. Fiaol finally nods, chuckling here and there at the young man's comments. "That would," she notes, glancing around, and up at the sky, "likely be wise." As Shadair smiles more, so does Fiaol, nodding. There, the scar doesn't keep him from smiling, it is all in the young man's own mind.
A bit pleased at the outcome, Fiaol stands up, then thrusts out her right hand to Shadair, the one with two fingers ungloved. "Besides, won't your sister be wondering where you are? One does not anger or over-worry a sorceress I have heard."

With a happy sigh, Shadair rises to his feet with the offered help from Fiaol's arrow hand. Brushing off snow from himself with a shake to complete the thing before being side-tracked by the paladin's hair. "Oh, just a sec." Without even asking, two fingers slip around her head to slide a chunk of pressed snow out and let it drop to the ground. "There now! Don't need that melting in your hair and dripping down your back hey?" With a strong exhale high into the air as he too looks to the sky, Shadair nods. "Caillyn would get upset if I were gone overlong yes. And she might not be able to help but freeze my hair or something expressing it." With a short laugh he adds, "You don't need to worry though, I know it." He appears ready for the pair to resume their course to the city.

Green eyes roll, following Shadair's hand for as long as she can, before nodding as he speaks and pulls the hand back. "Indeed, thank you, Shadair," she notes in her calm tone, with just a hint of smile in her tone. "Your sister sounds quite the interesting creature," notes Fiaol with a shake of her head. "Very well, I shall come and join you for supper, if you don't mind my ... casual attire," she notes with a wave of her hand to her browns and greens.
Shifting her cloak just a bit, Fiaol turns back to Shadair, watching him for a moment, before shaking her head. "It would be a shame to freeze your hair," she notes with a shrug. "You would not look good bald," states Fiaol as the pair head back to Alexandria.

Recent Logs

2010-12-21T23:37:56Z

Alariel: Adding log

Amira

2010-12-19T07:11:31Z

Alariel: Created page with "== Amir'a al'Jarim - Windchild - Khamsin == Born a female in a land where women were secondary citizens at best, Amir'a's life wasn't easy. Especially with a father who thought..."

File:Amir'a Faroud fini.jpg

2010-12-19T07:07:15Z

Alariel: Amir'a + Faroud

Amir'a + Faroud

Character Pages

2010-12-19T07:00:06Z

Alariel:

Emblem of Ea is home to a number of colorful and interesting characters. In order to make a page, you will need to be logged in with your forum ID. If you're having trouble logging in, please see the [[Help:Editing|Wiki Help]] in the [[Getting Started]] section.

For help on making a character page, please see [[How to Make a Character Page]].

<center>'''Be sure to put all pages into <nowiki>[[</nowiki>Category: Player<nowiki>]]</nowiki>. Thank you.'''</center>

{{CompactTOC}}

[[Category:Player]]

==A==
[[Abrahil]], [[Agril]], [[Amira|Amir'a]]

==B==

==C==
[[Colrick Voss]]

==D==
[[Darshan]]

==E==

==F==

==G==
==H==
==I==
[[Ionus]]

==J==
==K==
[[Karelin Andarin]],
[[Karl Mattock]],
[[Kylie D'malthyae]],
[[Koszhey Urvald Malinovyi]],
[[Kyra Smith]],
[[Kerbasi]]

==L==
==M==

[[Myrana Jn'Rajh]], [[Maerkkus]]

==N==
==O==
==P==
==Q==
==R==
[[Roland]]

==S==
[[Lady Sandiel]], [[Hailee Serene Tigriil]], [[Lady Sienna Meribeth McBane]], [[Siseroa Shurik]]

==T==
[[Thaim]],[[Teena Longshot]],[[Thistle]]

==U==
==V==
==W==
==X==
[[Xenarchy Malzash]]

==Y==
[[Ylva]],
[[Younger, Bruce The|Bruce the Younger]]

==Z==
[[Zerridwyn Angosil]]

Back At The Ranch

2010-12-19T06:55:49Z

Alariel: Created page with "'''Summary''': The Mists have lifted, Alexandria returns to it's rightful place in the world, but not its rightful time. What happens when a character who has lived for the past..."

'''Summary''': The Mists have lifted, Alexandria returns to it's rightful place in the world, but not its rightful time. What happens when a character who has lived for the past five years outside of the mists, meets characters who have spent the last few weeks in Alexandria?
'''Characters''': Fiaol, Travern, Karl, Colrick, Azreal
'''Time''': Evening
'''Where''': Not far outside of Alexandria.

Colrick is still uncertain as to the aftermath of the prior day's events, but his eagerness to stretch his legs is greater than any apprehension. "It's all... as I remember it." he muses, partly to himself in assurance, as he glances around at the surroundings. Still, his rifle is held in his hands rather than slung.

Travern rides cheerfully, having ridden a few circles around the small party to work off some excess energy before settling into a proper bit of scouting. Fully armored and shield in hand, the young man is really for potential trouble, but with helmet off and weapons sheathed, isn't really expecting anything. "Well, can't say as I really remember any of it. Usually ride out the other direction, but nothing looks like it's infested with giant tentacles. Well, don't think it does.... what would something like that look like?"

The time spent trapped within the city had strained even Karl's usually jovial nature; he's relaxed quite a bit once he got out of the city and somewhere with trees, the hunter occasionally reaching out to trail a hand over some bark or pausing to check the grass and earth for signs of the passage of game. "There're animals out here," he notes, straightening, "Seems like everything's fairly normal..."

"Animals lacking giant tentacle infestations?" Colrick asks in clarification, though with an amused grin as he seems to be a bit less worried now. The rifle bounces in his grip, no longer held tight and readied, as he turns a full circle to take in the entire view. "I don't want to jinx this, but I hope this is all over."

The evening is cold, wet, and snow falls drawing a white blanket across the surface of the ground, hiding beneath the grey-black sky overhead. There is a slightly brighter area of grey, where the moon must surely be.

In a clearing made by an ancient tree having fallen over, a cloaked figure steps into the barely there light and looks up, frowning. "I hate clouds... I do not like not seeing the sky," she murmurs to herself, giving a shake of her head, before returning to a trot once more, padding along through the silent forest ... looking.
The figure comes to some invisible barrier... or rather there had been a barrier, and she eases herself forward a bit. Not daring to come completely out of the trees right now, the young pulls back her hood exposing red hair and green eyes as she knees, running a gloved hand across the ground, brushing away snow and looking at the hibernating earth beneath. "Are they really gone?" she murmurs softly to herself, before looking up.
There are voices, and they are drawing near. Frowning, a gloved hand, with fore and middle finger bare, plucks an arrow from a quiver, while the other gloved hand draws a bow, before the young woman blends back into the shadows.

Travern shrugs lightly and nods, peering around absently as well. "Eh. Sorceress invasions, foreign occupation, flying cities, walls of Mist. Figure around here, if it isn't one thing, it's another. Heh, sorta why I like this place; heck of a lot more interesting them back home!"

"Your obsession with tentacles disturbs me," Karl observes rather wryly as he pushes himself up from the crouch where he'd been examining some animal tracks in the snow that rests lightly like a blanket here and there. The feather that protrudes from his hat and usually bounces freely is heavy from the wet, dangling down behind its edge like a canine's tail drooping in defeat. As he moves to catch up from the few strides ahead that the others have made, he adjusts the strap that holds the buckler upon his arm, his head shaking, "It seems like we're back in the world, at the very least. The priests spoke true."

Colrick slings his rifle over his shoulder now, and takes a moment to rub his hands together to get some warmth into them. "Mmm-hmmm." he murmurs in reply, before blowing at his hands and rubbing them some more. "I need new gloves. My last pair are frozen in some muddy hole in Sendor." he adds, before stuffing his hands underneath his cloak to keep them warm.

There is a particular word that catches Fiaol's attention, if she were an elf, long ears would have twitched in interest, no doubt. Leaning closer against the tree, the young red-head strains herself, trying to hear more. "Sendor..." she murmurs softly to herself.

GAME: Travern rolls perception: (4)+5: 9
GAME: Karl rolls Perception: (13)+6: 19
GAME: Colrick rolls perception: (10)+5: 15

Travern glances around again, and shrugs, nodding. "Aye, still have some gear have yet to replace myself..... though most was just confiscated... not like I was going to blow up anything in the city..." he mutters and pouts.

GAME: Fiaol rolls stealth: (13)+4: 17

"Well, I..." Karl stops dead, then, his head canting a little to one side as he looks over in the direction that Fiaol's hiding against a tree, one hand lifting palm out for silence and pause. After a moment, he murmurs more hushed, "Did you hear that?"

"N-" Colrick begins casually, but then his wartime experience kicks in and he drops down low to a crouch and shuffles a few steps over to a felled log so he's less exposed. "No, what is it?" he whispers over to Karl, one hand reaching up to the strap for his rifle.

Emerald eyes widen. Bloody Hunt! Exhaling slowly, Fiaol closes her eyes, concentrating for a moment even as she slowly knocks an arrow and offers a wordless prayer that she won't need it.

Travern freezes, well aware he's noisy when he moves. ".........hear what?" The only motion being the flicking ear of his mount.

"I don't know," Karl murmurs, reaching down to draw the pistol at his hip, steadily gazing at the tree he thinks he heard something near. Louder, he calls out, "Is there anyone out there? Show yourselves!"

Green eyes open again, sparks of divine light flickering in them. Fiaol frowns in thought at something, then shifts, to get a limited, but the best, view of the group. There is a long pause, the red-headed woman seeming to wait for something.

The sounds of boots crunching on the snow precedes the red-headed archer as she rounds her way from behind a tree and into the open. Her bow is held, but the knocked arrow is pointed at the ground. The woman looks ... hard, harder than her apparent young age, as she shifts her jaw faintly, those green eyes falling on one figure, then another, then another.
"Where are you from? I have not seen you in this forest before," she speaks slowly, as if unused to speaking often.

"Alexandria." Colrick replies, raising his voice to call out to her, as he slowly stands back up from his crouch. The hand slides back down to his side, leaving the rifle slung for now. "What is /your/ business here, so close to the city?" he asks, though the emphasis on the word is more curiosity than accusation.

Travern starts a moment, but relaxes again upon seeing the speaker. "Aye, well, don't come into the forrest often." He peers idly at the archer. "...can't say as recall seeing you either, and kinda sure I'd remember your pretty face."
Given that the bow's aimed down, Karl keeps his pistol low as well, his head cocking slightly to one side as he gives her a curious once-over from where he's standing--although he relaxes a bit. She's not some sort of monster, after all. No tentacles. He says nothing, letting the others speak for now, turning a bit to check the surrounding forest for other signs of people present.

Emerald eyes narrow at Travern for a moment, the bow starting to lift before Fiaol stops herself. Is he flirting ... at a time like this? Perhaps they ARE tainted somehow, yet... Fiaol feels nothing.
"I have been patrolling north of here for the past five years ... since the mists arrived, with my father.: Then the red-heads eyes look behind the group and the young woman blinks. "YOu mean ... the city is really there? Alexandria... it ... it exists?" she gasps in surprise, the bow dropping further.

Colrick reaches up to adjust his glasses as she speaks. "Of course it exists, it's somewhat hard to mi-" he replies, then pauses as his face twists into an expression of confusion. "Wait... five years? How does that even...?" he asks, not quite getting that part, it seems.

"I certainly hope..." Karl trails off, his eyes widening slightly as the girl's words sink into his head--turning to look to the others, then back to her, clearing his throat. He rubs a hand against his mouth for a moment, "Ah, ex-cuse me lass, did you say the mists arrived... five //years// ago...?"

Travern frowns, mildly confused, and sticks to the parts he does understand. "Well, yeah the city exists. I mean, if you want to get philisophical, could argue about anything existing, but city exists much as we do. Ya wanna come see? Isn't that far." He blinks, peering at Karl. "What? No they didn't. Wasn't even a month. Seemed longer, but that's just cause was boring."

Green eyes look at the group, her fingers tightening around the bowstring, the gut string creaking in annoyance against the cold. "Yes," notes Fiaol, those eyes narrowing, studying each man in the group. "The world has fallen to the Hells and back since Alexandria disappeared. People were starting to believe the city a myth," she notes, frowning. "What are you ... you would know how long time passed... wouldn't you? WHere have you been! We have /needed/ you!"

Colrick looks to be at a loss in the face of Fiaol's words, and he looks to his two companions. "I vote we take her back to the city; maybe she knows something, maybe not." he quietly suggests. "Though five years is a bit hard to swallow." he adds.

"I... yes." Karl glances to Colrick, and then he holsters his pistol; taking a step forward, he sweeps his hat off and dips into a low bow, "Karl Mattock, my dear, Hunter Extraordinare, at your service. Would you agree to come back to the city with us to try and... figure out what's going on here? From //our// point of view, it's been but a month or so."

Travern frowns thoughtfully, speaking mostly to himself. "Disjointment from the standard Prime *could* cause a chrono-disjuntion, espically if displacement occurs along the T-axis... so from Prime perspective, suppose five yeas ould have passed." He blinks, and starts again, the words starting to really sink in. "Five years? Aw crap, Mom's gonna be worried! Scratch that, Mom's gonna be *pissed*! Crap! I gotta get home!" Travern spurs his horse foreward, starting down the road and out into the country, only to suddenly haul back, wheeling around again. "Crap! I gotta get my stuff! Crap! Crapcrapcrap!" He's smart, really he is.... he just doesn't use it very well.

The bowstring is pulled and the bow raised up. "-Take- me?" asks the woman, eyebrow arching as she frowns at the group. She definitely did not like that tone, nor wording. However, when Karl speaks up, Fiaol lifts her chin as she lowers the bow. Green eyes study the sky for a moment, before she turns and glances around thoughtfully. "Hunter Extraordinare?" she asks of Karl before shaking her head with a sigh. "Not with that weapon," she drawls as the bow is slung into place and the arrow replaced in it's quiver. "I can come for a time. However ... when word starts to crawl North of the Mists retreating, the Hunter only knows what will decide to come and hunt and feast in an unexpecting city. Very well, I will go with you," she notes with a sigh.
"Fia. Fiaol, Huntress of the Silver Crescent, Follower of the Beast King."

At the sudden realization and panick from his companion, Karl winces slightly--replacing the hat once more upon his head, fingers rubbing between his eyes for a moment. "If she's waited five years, she can wait... another day or so, Travern," he offers ever-so-helpfully, hand falling before he flashes a rogue's smile to the archer, "And if //you// believe that all that makes a hunter is the weapon he carries, then I question if you're worthy of //your// title as well."

At the sudden realization and panick from his companion, Karl winces slightly--replacing the hat once more upon his head, fingers rubbing between his eyes for a moment. "If she's waited five years, she can wait... another day or so, Travern," he offers ever-so-helpfully, hand falling before he flashes a rogue's smile to the archer, "And if //you// believe that all that makes a hunter is the weapon he carries, then I question if you're worthy of //your// title as well."
"Ah, good; introductions without the tense standoff." Colrick muses with a faint smile. "Though maybe we could dispense with the posturing? This situation is strange and unnerving enough." he adds, before looking back to Fiaol. "Colrick Voss, formerly of the Alexandrian Army. The city gates are open, you can follow us back if you wish, though be mindful that the guards are still a bit on edge."

Travern clams himself, not panicing, but something quite close to it. "...you guys have never met my mom.... she makes dwarves cry..." he whhispers, somewhere between awe and horor. "But yeah, faster to get ready frst. Maybe take an airship.... ya think they'll have the airships traveling again? I hope so... ahw hell, I'm gonna be *so* grounded...."

Emerald eyes give Karl a sidelong glance, before Fiaol shakes her head, almost smiling. "I follow the Hunter, as he dictates to me," she notes, walking slowly towards the road. "Noisy weapons that leave me smelling of gunpowder doesn't help me on the Hunt in the forest. Though, I have seen how damaging they can be ... which does make it almost tempting. But... I am a traditionalist, I suppose."
Then Fiaol turns to look at Travern, her lips still in a half-smile. "Most began to believe Alexandria never actually existed. If your mother is still near, she will likely be more happy to have you back, than wrathful enough to forbid you from leaving your home for some time."

"I've never seen a need to worry about how noisy I'm being once I //find// my prey," Karl replies with a cocky smile, turning to walk as well with an amused shake of his head - at Fiaol, or at Travern, it's hard to say. "Let's get back to the city, then, and try and work all've this out. Dare I ask what we've missed?"

Colrick hefts the rifle into a more comfortable spot on his back, mindful of the bayonet which now points upwards. "Head back, have an ale, rest on it; you're in no state to go rushing off this night." he advises Travern. "It will all work out." he adds with a smile to reassure him.

Fiaol just frowns. "Let us get into some warmth, first, before we go into a very active five years worth of a tale," notes Fiaol, shifting her jaw uncomfortably. "The war was won completely though, yes," she notes a bit stiffly, as if having had trouble finding just the right words. "You ... served with the Army?" she then asks curiously. "My brother, Dathuil Dilis served in the battle of Sendor. He wrote to us from there, that he was headed back to Alexandria for a bit ... but before more word coudl come," she notes softly.

"Then p'rhaps you can find your brother, too," suggests Karl, glancing back over his shoulder with a brow's raise, "If he was in Alexandria, then chances are he still is... it's not as if we had anywhere else to go, after all."

Colrick doesn't show any recognition at the mentioned name, but cracks a warm smile at her. "The name is not familiar to me, but there were many of us there. Though, Karl is right; I think you have a family reunion ahead of you. Surely that should lift your spirits?" he says, the cheer in his tone returning.Travern ponders a moment. "Dilis.... Dilis.... nah, don't think I met him. Was wth the Irregulars, and worked in the Resistance. Was he regular Army? Didn't have a lot of contact with them, though seemed nice enough guys."

"He joined the Myrrish Army seven years ago, well... two for you. Or there abouts," notes Fiaol with a hint of a shrug. The young woman keeps her steps light, a woodsman's daughter, there is no doubt. "We grew up in the Mythwood. Father ... chose that as his home, protecting the wood and the villages in the area," she notes softly. "I've been travelling about and hunting and fighting from the Mythwood to the mists, up in Heth's domain for a bit. I've avoided Myrridon, though. Civil wars, nasty things."

Colrick shoots a little laugh at Travern's comment about 'nice enough guys'. "Ah, good to know we had a decent reputation amongst the irregulars. Would hate to think we were bastards." he quips in amusement. "I spent the war as a sapper; doing the dirty work of dismantling enemy defenses in the middle of battle. Before that I was just a civilian advisor, helping to train them in engineering. Oh how my mentor fumed when he heard I signed up and became a soldier." he explains, chuckling at the last part. "Civil war?" he asks, his humor fading a bit at that.

Karl doesn't have any input to the military situation, apparently--he doesn't seem the military sort much in any case, although looks can be deceiving. At the last comment, though, he slows... looking over, his brow furrowing. "Civil... in Myrddion?"

Travern grins at Colrick, amused at something, but frowns as well at news of Myrddion. "....I guess the King didn't make it out okay?"

Fiaol looks at Travern. "He ... was not in Alexandria?" she asks, letting out a sigh. "May the Spider burn in her Hells," she states with a hiss.

"Wait, wait..." Karl holds up his hand, frowning, "...what's going on with Myrddion? The last I heard..." A glance back to the others, then the Huntress, "...things were - if not completely steady - not /that/ bad..."

Colrick sighs as he figures it out. "The King went missing when the mists came... so without the King, I imagine... it's the two Princes, isn't it? Did something happen to them? Or..." he asks of Fiaol.

Travern huhs. "Thought the older brother.... what's his name.... woulda been a shoe-in if the King went missing. Met him briefly in Sendor, seemed a pretty cool guy. Saw the other brother at the cerimonies, not as impressive."

Travern sighs, and spurs his horse back towards the city. "I really do need to get packed. I'll let the guards know you guys are comming, save you some trouble, and report to the Captain there. Gods, this is gonna make all kinds of trouble."

"Verin and Gavril," notes Fiaol with a shake of her head. "I don't know how, or even why, it started. Not my place to judge. I just know that it did, and they are squabbling like pre-adolecent siblings over the last piece of cake." There is a pause, before Fia glances sidelong at Karl. "Yes, my brother and I did the same when we were younger," she offers in near-deadpan.
"You'll hear this soon... with Taara ascending, Charn went into upheval, as well. There is said to be a large floating fortress that Charn possesses now, Taara having focused them, rather than the tribune or whatever it was. Heth killed the Gold that ruled Dragonier, as well. Now the dragons are lost and is the land, ruled under an undead dragon. And ... well, much much more. I have never been to Alexandria proper, how much further?"

"I think all siblings did," Karl admits with a quiet chuckle of his own, trailing off for a moment and glancing off in another direction through the woods--hand lifting to stroke along the sides of his mustache in contemplation for a moment. "Gods. Do you bring any good news at all...? Or is the only bright point in the past five years //now// when we return?" He glances back to Fiaol hopefully, "Have things /only/ grown worse in the world?"

"And what's all this about the world needing us?" Colrick asks as he watches Travern disappear out of sight down the road. "Are we to expect everyone to turn to us to set things right? We just got out of one war... and now..." he trails off, then looks back to Fiaol. "Well, one thing at a time, I suppose."

"Yes, things have only gotten worse. THe only good news I have ... is that Veyshan hasn't started an Empire," Fiaol notes with a frown. "They are just ... well ... Veyshan as usual," she notes with a shake of her head.

"Are you so certain?" asks Fiaol curiously now. "Something pulled you away, and something brought you back. The how, and the why, and the /what or who/ is yet to be determined, I think. No one has passed it on to Beast King's clergy if they've figured it out," she notes with a shake of her head. "And we don't really care that much about those answers, honestly.
Looking up at the gates, Fiaol frowns. "I will not be asked to hand over my bow, will I? It is a symbol of my faith," she notes to the others. "Usually that is not a problem in villages, but cities of this size... I have never been to."

"Gods, no," Karl can't help but chuckle, his shoulders shaking a little, "If they tried to disarm all've the adventurers in the city, things would get... fairly unpleasant, I think. I generally just keep my guns unloaded and my blade tied in its sheath." He does the same as Colrick, unloading the pistol - the rifle hadn't been loaded at all just yet. "And that's a terrifying thought, Huntress. I'd rather it stay where it is, though, it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences..."

Colrick nods to Karl's explanation. "Just avoiding carelessness. An accidental discharge could be very dangerous to anyone nearby." he adds, as he reslings his rifle. "And I'd rather not consider being banished for another five years. Especially if each time we return the world gets that much worse."

At the mention of the shapes in the mist, Karl slants a look over towards Fiaol. "...we saw them too. It wasn't entirely... pleasant. Some of them tried to get into the city. Fortunately not the--worst of them." He grimaces, shaking his head, "It's nowhere I'd like to go again."

Colrick shakes his head. "I didn't see them, fortuantely. Only heard of them second-hand. I spent a good part of the last week in bandages, after some dead thing in the cemetary jumped me and some others." he replies.Colrick pauses and looks at Karl, "Of course you were there too, though you came out of it a bit better than I did."

The shaking of the ground that comes with giantborn walking, catches Fiaol's attention. The woman looks at the ground, feeling the faint movement from her feet, turning around, reaching for a bow, before stopping as she sees an apparently friendly-ish figure, rather than screaming battlecries.
Green eyes turn to Colrick then... "Thul's children rising from the cemetary? No, I would not have wanted to be there," she notes with a shake of her head. "The Children of Garm, I can hunt... those things..." she states with a frown. "Most unpleasant."

"If it wasn't for the Vardamans, I'd have scars," Karl admits with a grimace to Colrick's words, glancing down at his arms, "Norii saved us all in that one, I think, with those flames of hers..." At the sight of the giantborn, he brings one hand up in a greeting, calling easily, "Good eve!"

"And I'd be dead." Colrick adds to Karl. "But enough of that unpleasantness; I should retire for the night. Take care." he says, and to Fiaol he adds, "I hope you find your brother soon."

At the guardpost, getting a few looks, no doubt, considering where they came from, is a small group getting smaller. The dark-haired rifleman has been in Alexandria for a while, and the feathered hat is well remembered. The red-headed archer in browns and greens, a woodswoman, as it where. It is SHE who is getting the looks, and a few guards falter in their discipline to whisper to one another.

As Colrick heads to find some sleep, Fiaol nods to him, before turning back to Karl. "Clerics of any order are useful against scars," notes the woman with a half-smile and a shake of her head. "I should like to meet this Norii then, she sounds to be very capable." Glancing around, Fiaol purses her lips. "Where would be the best place to find lodging for the evening. I admit .... a hot bath would be nice."

As Azreal makes his way throught he gate he gets more than a look or two himself, shadow elves have become less and less popular as it were lately but the stoic rifleman simply rolls with the punches. Pulling his cap down, just a little tighter on his head he approaches Fiaol and Karl "A hot bath? You wouldnt know a good place for that by chance?" the tall elf says with a weak smile.
"I'm not entirely certain," Karl admits, glancing after Colrick's departure before looking back to Fiaol, "The inns are a little... full, after all there were more people staying in town than they'd expected, but I'm sure you could find somewhere. I'd suggest--" Then the elf approaches with a similar question, and he exhales a chuckle, "--check the Adventurer's Quarter, there's probably somewhere there. That's where I found a room."

Emerald eyes widen, and Fiaol staggers several steps backwards, reaching for her bow. "Mulridden!" she exclaims, looking ready to attack, except for the fact that no one else is. Glancing left, then right, Fiaol eyes Azrael warily, then looks at Karl, then at Azrael again. "How... ... " she states before shaking her head. "This is ... strange to me," she notes. "Perhaps ... there is a temple of Eluna here? The Hunter's Sister usually takes his clergy in."

Azreal smiles weakly at holds up his hand "I am sorry for causing you distress, I am well aware of what my kind have done and still do. I have found a different calling however, as a guardian of Serriel." the shadow elf holds up his silver holy symbol. "If there is any way for me to prove my sincerity by all means name it."
At the brief tension, Karl glances between the pair--tensing up--and then he relaxes slightly, shaking his head. "It... yes," he offers, "Go over the highbridge, take a left and you'll reach the Temple Plaza. You can't miss it, it's-- quite the sight."

Fiaol considers for a moment, then closes her eyes and offers a quick prayer. When she opens them again, she looks at Azreal, before she nods. "I have seen several who are dedicated to the Guiding Star. I take it you were not within the Mists, yourself?" she asks curiously. "After all, it is only recently that the Maiden of Battles has come to prominence."
Emerald gaze turns to Karl, nodding. "Okay... so ... highbridge... that is to the south?" she asks, glancing around. "THen to the left. Yes... I think I can find that, thank you, friend."

Azreal bows his head "Indeed this is my first visit to the city and hope to spread some good faith. I do hear rumor however... that.. the mists caused some unusual events within the city? If you would be so kind to explain what has indeed happened... I gladly wish to know what is truth and gossip."
"I can show you the way," Karl offers the pair--allowing with an easy lift of his chin towards the shadow elf, "Karl Mattock. I'm not sure who Serriel is, but hey, I'm not exactly a scholar of the Gods. Welcome to Alexandria. We're all a little confused right now."

Fiaol peers at the dark elf for a long moment. "Alexandria was missing for five years. The Mists came, Taara tried to take over the world, but took over the gods of the Dark, at the very least, and then five years later the mists receeded and Alexandria has returned. There is /MUCH/ amiss here. And much that is confusing," she notes with a bow of her head."

Azreal nods "I see. I am Azreal Of..." he pauses for a moment "... Just Azreal these days actually. A pleasure to meet you. Serriel is guardian of all civilization and the maiden of battle. I am here to see what rumors are true and help sort out any confusion if possible. THe sooner a grand city like this returns to its rightfull place and working the better."

"That'll be up to better man than I," Karl admits in wry tones, "I was just visiting the city when everything... well... happened, so I'm not the best tour guide or representative myself. I'm from Rosalia, actually. I suppose I should send word to my father now that we've returned, once everything is... sorted out."

Fiaol considers, then nods. "There will likely be many doing such, so I would suggest organizing messages by area and region, then collectively send them, rather than scrambling for courtiers all at once," notes the huntress. Then she looks at Azrael again for a moment, before turning to Karl. "Would you lead the way to the temples, please?"
[[Category:Logs]]

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2010-12-19T06:30:58Z

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