It's been a long and dusty journey along the High Road for Jenira, but she's used to travel. Waterdeep was more than a day behind her, and she knew that the turning for Nightstone was just up ahead. A few hours ago a fellow traveller had joined her on the road, a tall young fellow with long hair and beard, a hint of smoke far behind him over the land.
Jenira and Xondario, please describe yourselves. How did your meeting go? What have you talked about on the journey so far?
Alyssa, it's been an equally long journey for you. Has it been harder? You also have a fellow traveller, a quiet man of Tiefling descent whose internal energy seemed to power him down the road until he caught up with you. Please also describe yourselves. What conversation resulted in you continuing together towards Nightstone?
Jenira is young half elven woman in her twenties. She has tanned copper skin, deep green eyes, and long warm brown hair that falls in gentle waves. Her hair is never tied back and has no adornments. Her slightly pointed ears are visible and she makes no effort to hide them. Jenira is wearing a loose, long sleeved, penny blouse with golden yellow stitching tucked into worn brown leather pants. She has knee hight brown leather boots in the same color as her pants. Over all of this is open silk cape that falls to her knees. The cape is a soft sage green with fine intricate embroidering around the edges in the same golden thread as the shirt. Jenira stands at about 5' 6" and always seems to have an open expression on her face sorting a soft smile. She travels with a tied up rucksack slung over one shoulder and if you look closely enough you can see a violin bow sticking out through the top opening.
When her caravan came across Xondario along the road, Jenira was one of the first to greet him, as is her custom. She offered what little healing and comfort she could provide, if needed. But most of all she offered to listen, listen to his story, and then offered hers in return.
Xondario found himself wondering down the High Road, which was the best way he knows how to get to Nightstone. "Must get to Nightstone, she will know what to do." He repeted the phrase over and over in his mind, and sometimes finding himself saying them outloud slightly. It kept him pushing forward, for if he wasn't looking ahead his mind would travel back to that terrible sight a few nights earlier. He tried not to think about it for the emotions would break him. Xondario was normally a man of few words and cool headed, but hes affraid those memories might drive him to a sadness or aggression he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of. So he pushes on, to Nightstone where he might find some order in the chaos in his life. He probably won't find answers there, but he hopes to find a path towards them.
He doesn't know why they stopped, probably by the Lady Jenira's behest, he must have been quite the site to see. Most people who don't Xondario stop and stare at him. Just a little shy of 7 feet tall, he resembles his mother more then that pillaging goliath that gave him his height. His long bleached blonde hair and beard make him look like rather shaggy and unkept, but he liked to think it showed the world he was no goliath for he heard they didn't have much for hair. Not that he's seen many goliaths, if any, but its the best way he knows to prove he's not like his father. With all the soot and ash on him now, Xondario wonders if they could even tell he was blonde, but at least they wouldn't see the grey undertones in his skin color, or they would assume it was more soot. And if all of that didn't make the caravan shy away from him, he would have thought the massive fencing maul, custom made as a gift for him so many years back, would make them think twice.
But not Lady Janira, he didn't know her very well but her overly happy personality seems to make you feel like you do. She was easy to talk to, made you talk more then you wanted or say more then you planned. Xondario caught himself doing just that the first night they met, telling her about the farm and the fire, and the goblins. Those goblins he was going he was going to put in the ground one by one like nails on a board. But not wanting to scare her and think differently of him, he caught himself before telling too many details. He found asking her questions was the best way to not say too much. "Just need to get to Nightstone," when ever she would ask why he mumbled that he would always say he was going to seek aid. Nobody felt comfertable when someone of his size seemed angry and unhinged so he tried to hide it, for those around him sakes.
"We should make it to Nightstone by evening Lady Janira. Do you have any plans for when we arrive?"
"As I have told you before Xondario, I am no lady. Jenira will do just fine." Jenira pauses a second as a teasing smile comes across her face. She even gives him a little nudge with her elbow. "Or even Jeni, as most people say. As for plans, I need to check in with my family. I do have some questions for them."
A bright smile lights up her face. "You should come meet them. You could do with a home cooked meal and my mom's are the best. Plus I am sure my siblings would love to treat you as their own personal climbing tree. Maybe after I could help you with whatever your plans are." She says, hoping he will expand on the topic he has been avoiding the entire trip. Something is bothering him I just know it.
"As you say Lady Jeni," Xondario lets a little smirk rise up out of the corner of his mouth as he over exaggerates the elbow nudge. "I too have someone to find to ask some questions of, besides I'm not sure how receptive your family would be to getting questions after bringing someone like me to their door." He drops the smirk from his face. "Most assume I'm not there for friendly conversation. Though I have been told I would make a good tree before." After a second of thinking about the idea of visiting what he can only imagine is an overly happy home based on Lady Jenira's personality, he couldn't help but think it would be nice to hang around with the little ones. He always liked kids, even as a youth he spent most of his efforts watching over the other kids, seeing their happiness brought him a little joy. Even if that meant he would spend his time watching out for them instead of partaking in the fun. He found fulfillment in seeing them safe and happy. "Maybe in a day or so if we are both still in town I can take you up on the offer if it still stands. I will most likely be at the brew house a crossed from the Inn's stables if you really think they would want the company." Saying it out loud makes him realize if was probably more Lady Janira being kind more then a true invitation.
Gorm Diabhal walks the High Road toward Nightstone with everything he owned strapped to him. Luckily he is a man of few possessions. The ivory white Tiefling has a sword upon each hip, a pack upon his back with an instrument case tied on one side and a few pouches and water skins at his waist. He travelled light despite having no clue how far he had to travel, the gods or his swords would provide.
The High Road is not what he is accustomed to. None of this so called civilization is. He doesn’t like it. All these conveniences and comforts? They seem to have made the people soft. Perhaps that is why his journey is here? In his own lands the people can fend for themselves so no great deeds are needed. Only here, where the people are soft but the treasures many are their dangers immense enough to prove one’s worth…
There is a slight chill in the air. For Gorm at least. He is accustomed to a warmer climate. His rough but well made and cared for clothing is more suited for home than here. Open sandals strapped to his feet, loose trousers that end mid calf and an open vest which does much to show his chiseled physique but little to keep him warm is all he wears besides some wraps and jewelry. He considers pulling his cloak from his bag but only momentarily, it’ll be best to acclimate as he knows not when he’ll be able to return home.
Combing his mid length blue-black hair back out of his eyes and past his small horns his tail stills and his eyes narrow. There is someone up ahead. His tread does not falter for it is not unexpected but he does find himself studying the figure as he approaches for his steps seem to carry him a bit faster.
Gorm learns little as he approaches besides they appear to be female and dangerously in observant. He guesses the gender based upon their build, figure and how they walk, his judgement about how observant they are upon the fact she has not looked back despite his intentional scuffing of his feet to try to not surprise her as he passed by.
He clears his throat as he steps up close to her and adds a solemn “Saheeda,” before quickly remembering he is not at home and translating it to “Greetings to you.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
"If you are sure, Xondario. It would honestly be no trouble at all. In fact my mother would likely love to meet you. She is always bugging me about the fact that she never gets to meet any of the people I tell her about." Jenira gives Xondario a stern look. "Lady Jeni is barely better. I really wish you would dispense with all of that." A small dusting of white freckles across her nose glow mysteriously as she gives him small smile.
"I will definitely come check in with you ... if you continue to refuse my request to visit." She straightens up to her full 5' 6'' height and looks up to his face with a playful imperious look, that is likely the cause of all this Lady nonsense, "And you better not leave without saying goodbye." She holds the look for a few seconds longer before breaking out into soft giggles and placing a small hand on Xondario's arm in friendship.
Alyssa is a svelte, tall half-elf. Her skin is light, almost as alabaster white as her long hair, while her eyes are a striking ice blue behind thin rimmed glasses. Swirling grey tattoos cover her body from her collar bone downwards; they can be seen through the unique armour which leaves her left shoulder, upper thighs, as well as her right forearm and left calf uncovered. Though to the trained eye, the various protective chainmail weave wrappings, with shin and arm guards set asymmetrically about her person, were actually strategically designed to protect the most vulnerable parts of the body. However even expertly crafted, there was still the telltale chime of chainmail as she moved. Enormous feathers have been tucked into her left upper armband, and also adorn the left side of her belt, where snapped enclosure pouches rest. Something like a small knife has been strapped to her right wrist, and she wears a fingerless gauntlet on one hand, a black fingerless glove on the other. An ornate pendant adorned with gems hangs low from her neck, and a slate-blue cloak with white fur lining has been clipped across her chest, hanging elegantly down her back, hiding much of her remaining gear.
Face: (Artwork not mine. Credit to original artist.)
Armour style reference: (Artwork not mine. Credit to the original artist.)
(Variations: Alyssa would have blue motifs, not red. Technically carries a shield, sword, crossbow.)
Thumbing through an elaborate tome as she walks along, Alyssa felt quite alone so far on this long journey, which only made it feel that much longer. Or maybe she was just dragging her feet? Either way, she had been left to fend for herself now. It was time for her to find her own way through this life instead of mooching off her parents. Even though it logically made complete sense, and it was probably time for her to step out of their shadows, Lyssa still felt a lot of pressure. It didn't make for enthusiastic strides forward. Lost deep in her thoughts, she was entirely guilty of not paying as much attention to her surroundings as she should. She could almost hear her mother's voice chastising her. And besides, it's not like she's come across any one yet. It'd be nice to hear another voice besides her own, or her mothers, in her head though. Alyssa goes to exhale a sigh.
“Saheeda,” - “Greetings to you.”
"Wuuh-ooop-ack!" The half-elf practically jumps out of her skin, almost sending her book into the air as she fumbles it in her surprise. Oh no! Was she hogging the road? "S-sorry!" Catching and clinging onto it before it hits the dirt, she hugs it to her chest. Alyssa hastily collects herself, correcting her posture as she turns to meet the voice. Blue hues blink as they scan to look up to meet his gaze. "Hi." She corrects her glasses. Feeling warmth hit her cheeks, she glances down in her embarrassment and prepares to take a tentative step back to move out of the way before glancing back up again.
If the man continues on his way, Alyssa pauses a moment to watch him carry on so naturally. While she hasn't met any tieflings in her lifetime, even she knew from her studies he was unique for these parts. The half-elf clears her throat and trots forward. "Um... Are... Are you traveling to town?" Practically nipping at his heels, she adds. "You're not from around here, are you?" Her eyes watch for his tail to not step on it. Doing so, she gets caught up in her string of curiosity and begins stringing together more questions. "May I ask your name? Are you cold? Do you usually travel alone? What brings you this far? What do you do? Are you a warrior? An adventurer? Can I ask where you're from?" Should he suddenly stop abruptly, Alyssa would be too close to stop and walk into him. And should he look down to her to meet her gaze, she'd grin a sheepish dimpled smile and correct her glasses. "Can I touch your horns?"
Gorm cannot help but smile at how he surprised the girl. Not that he surprised her, he finds no pleasure in that and chastises himself for not more apparently making his presence known so as to avoid it. But the way she was surprised, so flustered and stumbling. It was... cute. As her blue eyes catch his own and she says "Hi" he bows his head. He keeps moving, perhaps at a slightly slower pace but unwanted company of strangers can be quite alarming to some so he continues on. Until he hears her hurried footsteps and then call after him.
Turning to watch the girl catch up Gorm Diabhal is once again is amused and charmed. He quick list of questions are dizzying but it welcomed instead of the distrust and fear he might expect from a long woman on the road in these 'civilized' lands.
"Yes, but no longer it seems..." He answers even as her next question comes.
"No, I am from east of here, a land called..." But her questions keep coming.
"Gorm of the Diabhal," He answers quickly. "Yes but not very. These days, yes. That is... Do? Yes, I suppose.... Yes. Yes." Gorm answers in quick succession to her questions, doing his best to keep up and not lose track of the questions. Gorm stops and turns to the girl, perhaps too abruptly, and she all but runs into him. Gorm does not think he smiled this much since leaving home but once again he found himself quite charmed. Then the girl smiles up at him, dimples showing, and corrects her glasses and asks the real stunner of a question...
"Ye... No... Touch my what? Excuse me?" He'd been trying to answer her questions so quickly that her asking to touch his horns caught him totally off guard. It was his turn to feel heat rise in his cheeks.
"Perhaps we complete the exchanging of names before we move on to the touching or one another's... parts." Gorm suggests with a smirk before turning back towards Nightstone once more and setting a slightly slower pace than before.
"As I said" he goes on, assuming she will join him. "I am Gorm of the Diabhal. Al-Hadhar, city dwellers, generally just call me Gorm or Gorm Diabhal. My people come from the sands of the Anauroch desert. From below the Scimitar Spires to the very rim of the High Ice itself is our home. We are Al-Badia. Nomads, as you would say. Travelers and tribesmen. We are as scattered as the sands in a storm but we always come back together when needed..."
Gorm turns to the girl and gives his hand a gentle turn towards her, still awaiting her name.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Xondario let's out a sigh with a slight grin on his face. "Probably works better if your mother hears about me before meeting me. First impressions are hard to fix if you make a bad one, so best to set up for success then waste time cleaning up the mess." A saying the farmer's wife used to always say to them when they were in a rush. On more then one occasion Xondario considered telling Lady Jenira more of his situation and ask for her help. She seems eager to adventure and live out some of the stories she tells about, and he doesn't blame her, he himself used to daydream of roaming the land and righting the world's wrongs. But now with one of those adventures sitting at his doorstep, he's not sure what to do. He knows he needs help, as much as he wanted to grab his maul and follow the goblin horde, he knew it would solve nothing wxcept getting himself killed. Being dead wouldn't be the vengeance he seeks. He worries the grim nature of what he'll be getting into might damper her sunny disposition, and he won't want to do that to her. She as well as the rest of the caravan, but her most of all, has done so much for him already, he would hate to ask more of her already. Best stick with his original plan and go from there. Maybe if she does seek him out at the brew house, he will bring it up to her then.
"Hmmm ... You may be right." Jenira says seemingly pondering it over. "I am sure she would love you though. I don't know if she has ever met someone she didn't at least like. That is my mom's gift." Then the last part of what Xondario said catches up to her and a knowing glint enters her eyes. "Now, that is an interesting phrase. There must be a story there. You know, I would love to hear it."
She pauses for a second reading the underlying tension within Xondario and adds, "I mean, only if you want to." She gives him another small touch on the arm and facing him with a look of understanding and patience. Those mysterious freckles sparkling across the bridge of her nose.
Swept up in her own enthusiasm, Alyssa had gotten a little ahead of herself when the tiefling was so reciprocative with her curiosity. She had started to reach up when he'd politely remind her that they have yet to exchange names. Face flushing further, blue hues widen in realization of her over excitement and she'd move to tuck some stray hair behind her pointed ear as if that's what she intended to do all along. "Ye-yes! Yes of course." She couldn't help but glance down at her toes briefly in a poor attempt to hide her gentle embarrassment.
That quickly melts away as Gorm begins sharing about himself again, carrying on at his own pace, from the start. Alyssa immediately perks back up, pulling out her quill to make notes in her book as she habitually does. She scurries a bit to close the small gap to walk at his side, pausing just in time this time before running into him again when he goes to turn to address her once again. "Oop!" 'Recovering' quickly, she reaches for his hand without thinking. It's an awkward handshake considering the half-elf realized too late that he was gesturing to her, not offering his hand. She was committed to the formality at this point and inhales a short breath. "Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia." The blonde blurts almost as if it's formally rehearsed. When her smaller hand releases them of the exchange, she quickly corrects her glasses. "But please... just Alyssa." She'd present a genuine smile. "If you prefer less syllables, Lyssa, or simply A, is more than acceptable." She adds.
"May I accompany you on this shared path, Gorm Diabhal?" Lyssa asks her first question when he continues walking again, keeping up to follow along side. Wow he was all the way from the desert! "So you're not lost or anything then? Are you sure you sure you're not cold? You can borrow my cloak if the wind gets too much for you." She gestures with it, however continues her inquiries without skipping a beat. "Do you mind if I record notes? Do I have permission to draw your likeness?" And here she goes, launching into thinking all her questions out loud as she reopens her journal. "Do you have a favourite colour? Ouu, what about favourite food? Is there a main dish of Diabhal?" As Alyssa asks her questions she weaves a little as she walks, occasionally bumping arms with Gorm which then guides and corrects her for a bit before she starts drifting and naturally gravitating towards him again. "What brings a traveling nomad from the sands this way?Have you been this way before? Do you just wander the land or do you travel with somewhere in mind?Are you looking for work too?!" Alyssa bobs with that question before adding. "Do you mind if I ask questions?" She adjusts her glasses. Perhaps she could have asked that one much sooner... "Do you know the best place to look? Can I come too?" What if she couldn't keep up with Gorm's strides in the long run? "Are you in a rush?" He's been more than accommodating thus far though. "Would a piggy back ride offend you?" Maybe she's getting ahead of herself again. "What kind of work do you look for?Do you have any hobbies? How do you pass the time?..." It was more than clear that the half-elf was plenty capable of filling the air with conversation, well currently questions, for as long as he'd continue to entertain her by engaging. The longer A spent in the tiefling's patient company, the more comfort she found in his presence and would have her hovering close. In that time, most likely with reminders from Gorm (one at a time), Alyssa would eventually remember to start taking breaths between her questions and actually give him the opportunity to respond without feeling rushed.
Gorm raises an eyebrow as she grasps his hand but smiles and returns the hold for a moment. He is unaccustomed to all of the Al-Hadhar customs so was unsure exactly what the make of this but her hand in his felt natural. As she bows her head he does so as well assuming it is part of a greeting ritual or such and he hopes he does it correctly.
"Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia," Gorm says slowly and carefully, trying to shape each name correctly. "May it be the good fortunes of fate which have intertwined our paths."
"I would be honored to share your path," Gorm answers her and slows his walk to accomodate the girl now that it is clear that she will be joining him... And that her questions will not be ending anytime soon. Much amused by her endless questioning Gorm Diabhal does his best to answer each and every question. His first attempts are to be fully open and answer with detail but he soon realizes that short, concise answers are best so that he can fit them in before the next answer being them off track entirely.
"No, I am not lost. I am on a kind of trial of my people that..."
"I would not mind it warmer but I am trying to get used to the..."
"Notes? Strange... But no, I do not mind. I would not share if I..."
"Are you an artist then? By trade? Do you have examples I could see?" Gorm answers, trying to turn at least some questions back at the Alyssa. She is an intriging girl and he cannot help but wonder if she ever runs out of steam.
"Favorite color? I do not think so. Do you?" He answers.
"Food? It all depends on how it is prepared, no? As wanderers we tend to make meals of what we can find where we find ourselves. In the desert there is not always a lot of options. I would say there is no main dish so much as a tradition of spices and seasoning which I have yet to taste since I have left my lands... Perhaps you can reccomend to me some of your favorite local meals?" He is happy to have find the time to squeeze in another question of his own.
As Alyssa becomes focused on her note taking and sketching she starts to weave and wander a bit, first away from Gorm and then seemingly unconsciously self correcting too much and back towards and eventually into him. Gorm does not mind and smiles the first couple of times it happens. Soon he is just as unconsciously putting a hand out and gently putting it on her arm and drawing her closer each time she begins to drift away, his touch light but lingering a bit longer each time.
"I am on a quest, of sorts," Gorm answers when Alyssa asks why he is traveling this way. "A trial is perhaps more correct. My people... One takes up a sword when they dedicate themselves to being a protector of the Diabhal," his hand briefly moves to his first sword as he says this as a kind of unintentional demonstration. "Most take up the sword even if they do not dedicate their life to it. If one can it is expected, yes?"
"The second sword is a different issue. Only the few take on a second sword." His hand does not move to the second sword but his eyes do. "To take the second sword is to dedicate your life to it, and more. It is a declaration that you are more than a protector of the people... You are a protector of all things just and worthy. One must be capable of mind and body and of spirit. Those worthy to wield the two swords become Qadi - impartial arbiters or all things. Not only must you be impartial and fair in all decisions but you must also be strong and capable enough to enforce them..."
"It is hubris to think oneself worthy of such a role. Arrogance. Yet the role is needed and no person can set anothers destiny before them."
"And so when one takes up the sword... The second sword... They are banished from the tribes and the land. For their arrogance, yes? Do you understand? Who is any person to set themselves up to be such a figure? How dare they declare themselves worthy to decide for other people? So they are cast out and may not return until they have proven themselves worthy of the second sword. That is why I am here, young Alyssa. To prove myself worthy to the gods, to my people and to myself..."
Gorm's hand once more reaches out to gently take Alyssa's arm and pull her closer yet she drift away.
"A job?" he answers with a bit of a chuckle. "Only when necessary. We Diabhal have a different mindset, perhaps, about jobs and works. We all do what we can where we can to help the tribe. No Diabhal employs another for the purpose of enriching themselves for that would harm the tribe as a whole, yes? So I will take on tasks when the need arises, of course, but I am not looking for a job. A job does not make one worthy of the sword. No, I suppose as the City Dweller would think of it my job is to earn the second sword. To challenge myself and grow and do greats deeds until I am worthy... For now I head to Nightstone. I have hear tell they have a problem with bandits and raiders of some sort. It will not earn me my sword bit it will perhaps be a step on the path perhaps."
"Of course you may come," Gorm replies, unsure if Alyssa means to Nightstone or after whatever threat it is that plagues the city. "Each sets their own destiny with their own decisions. Your accompanying me would be like rain in the desert... Most welcome."
Reaching out to correct the girl's course once more, Gorm gently places his hand on the small of her back and uses the lightest of pressure to pull her back alonside him, forgetting to remove his hand once she is. He answers many other of her questions, providing details when inquired after or sharing his thoughts on topics varied and sometimes confounding. The time passes far faster than it has any right to and much distance is passed in the comfort and pleasure of Alyssa's company.
"What is a 'piggy back ride'?" Gorm asks slowly, unsure if he heard Alyssa correctly. He believed he knew the animal she spoke of but he saw none in the area and so was unsure of what she meant. "I'm afraid I am ignorant of this."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
"Well Lady Jenira, though the saying is nothing more then that, Maybe someday I'll tell you about the person who repeated it to me." Just as he expected as they starting to crest a little hill, he could start to see the top of the sign post to Nightstone. Knowing Lady Jenira wouldn't quite see it yet he waited a sec before saying "but I'm afraid today won't be that today. For there it is... our turn to Nightstone."
His heart started to race a bit, Nightstone was close enough he felt he coukd see it. Soon enough he can seek Adelle out, she will know what he will need to do next. She always just seemed to know how things worked that Xondario couldn't understand. He knew the instant he walked out of those burning barns that he was going to go after those who did it, but after a couple of steps towards the direction they went, he somehow knew running off after them wouldn't be the right way to do it. The only one he knew to talk to is here in Nightstone. Now that he's here, that pressing need to find her filling his head again. He starts to pick up the pace a little without realizing it. His short time with the caravan made the trip go by quicker, though he probably could have made quicker on his own. His talks with Lady Jenira seemed to calm his nerves a little and was a welcome change, but now that Nightstone was so near, his nerves rose up again. The pit in his stomach return and he tighten his grip on the maul's handle. His slight grin disappearing, and he stands a bit straighter. She will know what to do, then we begin, then they die.
As the respective pairings make their way north, or south, along the High Road, you see figures in the distance. Other travellers, not uncommon. Likely heading from Waterdeep to Daggerford, or vice versa. Eventually you will pass, and nod, and continue your journeys. Except, that is not what happens.
A path splits away from the High Road and continues to the East, into the low hill country. Jenira and Xondario, you know this to be the path to Nightstone, and I imagine Alyssa has memorised the route from a map. Perhaps Gorm did the same, or is just waiting for a sign. And a sign there is, a tall wooden one.
The two groups meet at the junction and, knowing this is the turning, politely wait for the others to pass you and continue on their way. Instead all four of you find yourselves standing at the junction, waiting.
(Where the source book gives some text for the DM to read aloud, I will include it in a quote block, but will usually narrate around it to better fit it into our own story. Here's the first one:)
You’ve been traveling along the High Road for days. As midday approaches, you spot a wooden signpost next to a trail that heads north into the hills. Nailed to the post are three arrow-shaped signs. The two marked “Waterdeep” and “Daggerford” follow the High Road but point in opposite directions. The third, marked “Nightstone,” beckons you to follow the trail. If memory serves, Nightstone is roughly ten miles up the trail.
When Xondario mentions the turn to Nightstone, a smile lights up Jenira's face. "It's been so long since I have last visited home, and we are almost there!!" A small squeal escapes as she gives a happy skip. "Oh, I must go say good-bye to everyone. I think it will be just the two of us from here, they will continue on to Daggerford." At that she rushes off weaving between the various carts, hair whipping in the wind and robe whisking behind her.
She is so busy saying her goodbyes to each and every single one of the caravan members that she initially misses the figures approaching from the opposite direction. Jenira is all sunny smiles as she tells her final tales to the friendly caravan. Both her hair and her open frock flow in the wind as she waves goodbye. Soon enough it is just her and Xondario standing at the turn to Nightstone. 'Or maybe not.' Jenira finally notices the other two figures standing there seemingly waiting for them to pass.
Jenira is never one for awkward moments or meetings and turns to the two with a genuine smile, "Hello, I am Jenira and this is my friend Xondario. I take it you are headed to Nightstone as well. It is nice little town and it's been too long since I was last here. Have either of you been before?" Jenira presents her hand for a handshake to the two standing opposite her and Xondario.
As Lady Jenira ran off to say her farewells, Xondario figured she would be a bit, being the friendly sort she wouldn't stick to a goodbye and a wave to each. So he decided to walk over to the direction post and sit with his back against it. Had he stayed on his feet, he might not resist the urge to start walking before Lady Jenira returned. Plus he sees other travelers coming down the road as well, and he didn't make as big of a scene when sitting down.
As the two travelers approached Xondario coukd here them talking, they weren't close enough to make out the conversation, but close enough to hear their voices. They must have been singing, there was no pauses in their conversation just a music lesson, rhythmless song.
He kept his eyes pointed down, he could hear them well enough to not feel the need to watch them, they certainly weren't shy about what they were talking about with strangers about. He purposely didn't try toisten to what they were saying as they neared, and seemly walked pasted him down the pathway to Nightstone.
He did notice when they stopped talking however, which made him focus his attention without looking on what they were doing. Then he heard the all to familiar voice of Lady Jenira talking to them, and there was his name. So much for trying to blend in with scenery. He had nothing to hide, and it wasn't that he distrusted people, but he finds meeting new people rarely goes well for him.
He picks his head up towards them and finally take a inspection of them. They were an even more unlikely pair then him and Lady Jenira. That was the fittest tiefling he had ever saw, not that he seen many but there were a few he remembered on the streets of Waterdeep. Xondario didn't fail to notice those mean looking blades at his side either. And she was ... drawing? Well this is going to be an interesting last bit of the journey. Just need to get to Nightstone. Well let's get this over with.
As he sees them glance over at the mention of him he stands up, straighter then he normally does meeting new people but he felt the need to let this new comer with the nasty blades know he's there. Best keep close to Lady Jenira, just incase. He simply nods to them.
"I'm afraid I am ignorant of this,” Gorm was just finishing saying as he notices the carts and people all paused up the road a ways. Unconsciously he steps half in front of Alyssa and slows their pace. “Company ahead,” he explains.
Seeing that it just appeared to be a train of travelers Gorm kept their pace slowed but did not grow alarmed. “Looks like they’re letting a couple off at our turn,” he notes. He finds he has mixed feelings on potentially sharing the road to Nightstone with others - On one hand there will be others for Alyssa to ask endless questions of but on the other hand there’ll be others for Alyssa to ask endless questions of.
Arriving before the main throng of people have started off, Gorm brings himself and Alyssa off to the side of the road so as to be out of their way. It’s impossible not to note the rather large man sitting against the sign post, nor the teacher social woman who is also apparently departing from the others here but for different reasons. Gorm was still deciding if he should be social or not when the woman decides the issue for them all…
"Hello, I am Jenira and this is my friend Xondario. I take it you are headed to Nightstone as well. It is nice little town and it's been too long since I was last here. Have either of you been before?" Jenira presents her hand for a handshake to the two standing opposite her and Xondario.
Gorm nods to these new individuals as their names are given and responds “I am Gorm or the Diabhal…” and pauses awkwardly. Should he present Alyssa to them as if she is part of his group and under his protection or would that be overly presumptuous? He takes Jenira’s proffered hand, it is the usual greeting clasp, not the variant Alyssa had used earlier, and he turns to Alyssa to get a read on how to proceed based upon her expression… Meanwhile the man-giant is left all but behind Gorm. This does not make the warrior happy but he certainly was no going to show weakness, or even wariness, in front of the City Dwellers.
Soft coos of acknowledgement and happy hums leave Alyssa as she makes notes and listens to Gorm answer her questions one by one. When he’d flip a question back at her, she’d glance up with a genuine look of surprise first, then a soft smile. “No…” She’d push her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “I’m a scholar by trade.” Lyssa admits. “I sketch to accompany my notes what words do not accurately describe.” She explains. “However, I do draw during leisure…” Her cheeks grow warm again. “To practice preserving details for memories…” A glances back at her pages. “Perhaps when we aren’t motion?” She’d offer to share some of her work when not walking.
”Sky blue?” Alyssa tilts her head, figuring that she gravitates to the cool colour as a favourite. Almost how she imagines the colour of her magic.
Lyssa looks thoughtful to Gorm’s answer to her question about food. ”I can absolutely agree with that!” She found herself enjoying that perspective. What that meant, is that she can have multiple kinds of favourite food. She liked that. “Happy to give my recommendations should we share a meal sometime.”
Alyssa was happy to continue to jot down her annotations and sketch her drafts as she’s gently and safely guided along. She listened to what Gorm was sharing, practically hanging onto every word he shares of his cultures and their customs. Absorbed in it, she hugs his side not to miss anything or stray off the path. To not interrupt him, she’d write down her questions for a later time.
“It originally started via ‘pickpack’ actually, like a backpack, however eventually muddled and changed in modern word play, or slang, to ‘piggyback’.” Alyssa begins to explain that it’s not about an animal, and gestures to her back like packs adventurers would have. She glances up and corrects her glasses. “Would I have permission to mount you?” She tries to summarize her ask when he’d point out company.
”Oh!” Alyssa pops up on her tip toes, poking out a little to look out from Gorm’s side. She peeks out to the pair being pointed out to her and gives a little wave. “Hi!” The half-elf‘s blue hues meets the charismatic woman’s. “Yes! We’re heading to Nightstone.” She steps forward. “I’ve never been.” Lyssa admits. “Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia.“ She offers her hand in the traditional manner to Janira. “But please... just Alyssa." She'd present her dimpled smile. "If you prefer less syllables, Lyssa, or simply A, is more than acceptable." She adds. “Are you familiar with this route?”
Jenira smiles brightly at the two of them. She shakes Gorm's hand firmly and without hesitation, "Well met. Gorm of the Diabhal." She then both sees and hears Alyssa from behind Gorm. "To you as well Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia. I will start with just Alyssa."
She gives a slight turn to Xondario to include him in the conversation. "I think Alyssa is more likely the Lady you think I am,." She turns to Alyssa and gives her a wink mysterious freckles twinkling, "Especially with a name like that. As to your question, yes. I am very familiar with this route."
She turns and begins walking the road to Nightstone, wind catching here unbound hair and open robe. She gives a playful head nod to Xondario gesturing him to follow her. And without glancing behind her she gives a little shout, "You are more than welcome to join us. Gorm of the Diabhal and just Alyssa. I promise I am a more than adequate traveling companion. I have stories to tell as I am sure you do as well."
As Xondario joins her on the road, Jenira turns to him mischief sparking in her green eyes, "So Nightstone ... It isn't far now. Are you absolutely sure I can't convince you to at least join me and my family for dinner?"
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Storm King's Thunder
Chapter 1: A Great Upheaval
It's been a long and dusty journey along the High Road for Jenira, but she's used to travel. Waterdeep was more than a day behind her, and she knew that the turning for Nightstone was just up ahead. A few hours ago a fellow traveller had joined her on the road, a tall young fellow with long hair and beard, a hint of smoke far behind him over the land.
Jenira and Xondario, please describe yourselves. How did your meeting go? What have you talked about on the journey so far?
Alyssa, it's been an equally long journey for you. Has it been harder? You also have a fellow traveller, a quiet man of Tiefling descent whose internal energy seemed to power him down the road until he caught up with you. Please also describe yourselves. What conversation resulted in you continuing together towards Nightstone?
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Jenira is young half elven woman in her twenties. She has tanned copper skin, deep green eyes, and long warm brown hair that falls in gentle waves. Her hair is never tied back and has no adornments. Her slightly pointed ears are visible and she makes no effort to hide them. Jenira is wearing a loose, long sleeved, penny blouse with golden yellow stitching tucked into worn brown leather pants. She has knee hight brown leather boots in the same color as her pants. Over all of this is open silk cape that falls to her knees. The cape is a soft sage green with fine intricate embroidering around the edges in the same golden thread as the shirt. Jenira stands at about 5' 6" and always seems to have an open expression on her face sorting a soft smile. She travels with a tied up rucksack slung over one shoulder and if you look closely enough you can see a violin bow sticking out through the top opening.
When her caravan came across Xondario along the road, Jenira was one of the first to greet him, as is her custom. She offered what little healing and comfort she could provide, if needed. But most of all she offered to listen, listen to his story, and then offered hers in return.
Xondario found himself wondering down the High Road, which was the best way he knows how to get to Nightstone. "Must get to Nightstone, she will know what to do." He repeted the phrase over and over in his mind, and sometimes finding himself saying them outloud slightly. It kept him pushing forward, for if he wasn't looking ahead his mind would travel back to that terrible sight a few nights earlier. He tried not to think about it for the emotions would break him. Xondario was normally a man of few words and cool headed, but hes affraid those memories might drive him to a sadness or aggression he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of. So he pushes on, to Nightstone where he might find some order in the chaos in his life. He probably won't find answers there, but he hopes to find a path towards them.
He doesn't know why they stopped, probably by the Lady Jenira's behest, he must have been quite the site to see. Most people who don't Xondario stop and stare at him. Just a little shy of 7 feet tall, he resembles his mother more then that pillaging goliath that gave him his height. His long bleached blonde hair and beard make him look like rather shaggy and unkept, but he liked to think it showed the world he was no goliath for he heard they didn't have much for hair. Not that he's seen many goliaths, if any, but its the best way he knows to prove he's not like his father. With all the soot and ash on him now, Xondario wonders if they could even tell he was blonde, but at least they wouldn't see the grey undertones in his skin color, or they would assume it was more soot. And if all of that didn't make the caravan shy away from him, he would have thought the massive fencing maul, custom made as a gift for him so many years back, would make them think twice.
But not Lady Janira, he didn't know her very well but her overly happy personality seems to make you feel like you do. She was easy to talk to, made you talk more then you wanted or say more then you planned. Xondario caught himself doing just that the first night they met, telling her about the farm and the fire, and the goblins. Those goblins he was going he was going to put in the ground one by one like nails on a board. But not wanting to scare her and think differently of him, he caught himself before telling too many details. He found asking her questions was the best way to not say too much. "Just need to get to Nightstone," when ever she would ask why he mumbled that he would always say he was going to seek aid. Nobody felt comfertable when someone of his size seemed angry and unhinged so he tried to hide it, for those around him sakes.
"We should make it to Nightstone by evening Lady Janira. Do you have any plans for when we arrive?"
"As I have told you before Xondario, I am no lady. Jenira will do just fine." Jenira pauses a second as a teasing smile comes across her face. She even gives him a little nudge with her elbow. "Or even Jeni, as most people say. As for plans, I need to check in with my family. I do have some questions for them."
A bright smile lights up her face. "You should come meet them. You could do with a home cooked meal and my mom's are the best. Plus I am sure my siblings would love to treat you as their own personal climbing tree. Maybe after I could help you with whatever your plans are." She says, hoping he will expand on the topic he has been avoiding the entire trip. Something is bothering him I just know it.
"As you say Lady Jeni," Xondario lets a little smirk rise up out of the corner of his mouth as he over exaggerates the elbow nudge. "I too have someone to find to ask some questions of, besides I'm not sure how receptive your family would be to getting questions after bringing someone like me to their door." He drops the smirk from his face. "Most assume I'm not there for friendly conversation. Though I have been told I would make a good tree before." After a second of thinking about the idea of visiting what he can only imagine is an overly happy home based on Lady Jenira's personality, he couldn't help but think it would be nice to hang around with the little ones. He always liked kids, even as a youth he spent most of his efforts watching over the other kids, seeing their happiness brought him a little joy. Even if that meant he would spend his time watching out for them instead of partaking in the fun. He found fulfillment in seeing them safe and happy. "Maybe in a day or so if we are both still in town I can take you up on the offer if it still stands. I will most likely be at the brew house a crossed from the Inn's stables if you really think they would want the company." Saying it out loud makes him realize if was probably more Lady Janira being kind more then a true invitation.
Gorm Diabhal walks the High Road toward Nightstone with everything he owned strapped to him. Luckily he is a man of few possessions. The ivory white Tiefling has a sword upon each hip, a pack upon his back with an instrument case tied on one side and a few pouches and water skins at his waist. He travelled light despite having no clue how far he had to travel, the gods or his swords would provide.
The High Road is not what he is accustomed to. None of this so called civilization is. He doesn’t like it. All these conveniences and comforts? They seem to have made the people soft. Perhaps that is why his journey is here? In his own lands the people can fend for themselves so no great deeds are needed. Only here, where the people are soft but the treasures many are their dangers immense enough to prove one’s worth…
There is a slight chill in the air. For Gorm at least. He is accustomed to a warmer climate. His rough but well made and cared for clothing is more suited for home than here. Open sandals strapped to his feet, loose trousers that end mid calf and an open vest which does much to show his chiseled physique but little to keep him warm is all he wears besides some wraps and jewelry. He considers pulling his cloak from his bag but only momentarily, it’ll be best to acclimate as he knows not when he’ll be able to return home.
Combing his mid length blue-black hair back out of his eyes and past his small horns his tail stills and his eyes narrow. There is someone up ahead. His tread does not falter for it is not unexpected but he does find himself studying the figure as he approaches for his steps seem to carry him a bit faster.
Gorm learns little as he approaches besides they appear to be female and dangerously in observant. He guesses the gender based upon their build, figure and how they walk, his judgement about how observant they are upon the fact she has not looked back despite his intentional scuffing of his feet to try to not surprise her as he passed by.
He clears his throat as he steps up close to her and adds a solemn “Saheeda,” before quickly remembering he is not at home and translating it to “Greetings to you.”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"If you are sure, Xondario. It would honestly be no trouble at all. In fact my mother would likely love to meet you. She is always bugging me about the fact that she never gets to meet any of the people I tell her about." Jenira gives Xondario a stern look. "Lady Jeni is barely better. I really wish you would dispense with all of that." A small dusting of white freckles across her nose glow mysteriously as she gives him small smile.
"I will definitely come check in with you ... if you continue to refuse my request to visit." She straightens up to her full 5' 6'' height and looks up to his face with a playful imperious look, that is likely the cause of all this Lady nonsense, "And you better not leave without saying goodbye." She holds the look for a few seconds longer before breaking out into soft giggles and placing a small hand on Xondario's arm in friendship.
Alyssa is a svelte, tall half-elf. Her skin is light, almost as alabaster white as her long hair, while her eyes are a striking ice blue behind thin rimmed glasses. Swirling grey tattoos cover her body from her collar bone downwards; they can be seen through the unique armour which leaves her left shoulder, upper thighs, as well as her right forearm and left calf uncovered. Though to the trained eye, the various protective chainmail weave wrappings, with shin and arm guards set asymmetrically about her person, were actually strategically designed to protect the most vulnerable parts of the body. However even expertly crafted, there was still the telltale chime of chainmail as she moved. Enormous feathers have been tucked into her left upper armband, and also adorn the left side of her belt, where snapped enclosure pouches rest. Something like a small knife has been strapped to her right wrist, and she wears a fingerless gauntlet on one hand, a black fingerless glove on the other. An ornate pendant adorned with gems hangs low from her neck, and a slate-blue cloak with white fur lining has been clipped across her chest, hanging elegantly down her back, hiding much of her remaining gear.
Face:
(Artwork not mine. Credit to original artist.)
Armour style reference:
(Artwork not mine. Credit to the original artist.)
(Variations: Alyssa would have blue motifs, not red. Technically carries a shield, sword, crossbow.)
Thumbing through an elaborate tome as she walks along, Alyssa felt quite alone so far on this long journey, which only made it feel that much longer. Or maybe she was just dragging her feet? Either way, she had been left to fend for herself now. It was time for her to find her own way through this life instead of mooching off her parents. Even though it logically made complete sense, and it was probably time for her to step out of their shadows, Lyssa still felt a lot of pressure. It didn't make for enthusiastic strides forward. Lost deep in her thoughts, she was entirely guilty of not paying as much attention to her surroundings as she should. She could almost hear her mother's voice chastising her. And besides, it's not like she's come across any one yet. It'd be nice to hear another voice besides her own, or her mothers, in her head though. Alyssa goes to exhale a sigh.
“Saheeda,” - “Greetings to you.”
"Wuuh-ooop-ack!" The half-elf practically jumps out of her skin, almost sending her book into the air as she fumbles it in her surprise. Oh no! Was she hogging the road? "S-sorry!" Catching and clinging onto it before it hits the dirt, she hugs it to her chest. Alyssa hastily collects herself, correcting her posture as she turns to meet the voice. Blue hues blink as they scan to look up to meet his gaze. "Hi." She corrects her glasses. Feeling warmth hit her cheeks, she glances down in her embarrassment and prepares to take a tentative step back to move out of the way before glancing back up again.
If the man continues on his way, Alyssa pauses a moment to watch him carry on so naturally. While she hasn't met any tieflings in her lifetime, even she knew from her studies he was unique for these parts. The half-elf clears her throat and trots forward. "Um... Are... Are you traveling to town?" Practically nipping at his heels, she adds. "You're not from around here, are you?" Her eyes watch for his tail to not step on it. Doing so, she gets caught up in her string of curiosity and begins stringing together more questions. "May I ask your name? Are you cold? Do you usually travel alone? What brings you this far? What do you do? Are you a warrior? An adventurer? Can I ask where you're from?" Should he suddenly stop abruptly, Alyssa would be too close to stop and walk into him. And should he look down to her to meet her gaze, she'd grin a sheepish dimpled smile and correct her glasses. "Can I touch your horns?"
just an unstable unicorn.
Gorm cannot help but smile at how he surprised the girl. Not that he surprised her, he finds no pleasure in that and chastises himself for not more apparently making his presence known so as to avoid it. But the way she was surprised, so flustered and stumbling. It was... cute. As her blue eyes catch his own and she says "Hi" he bows his head. He keeps moving, perhaps at a slightly slower pace but unwanted company of strangers can be quite alarming to some so he continues on. Until he hears her hurried footsteps and then call after him.
Turning to watch the girl catch up Gorm Diabhal is once again is amused and charmed. He quick list of questions are dizzying but it welcomed instead of the distrust and fear he might expect from a long woman on the road in these 'civilized' lands.
"Yes, but no longer it seems..." He answers even as her next question comes.
"No, I am from east of here, a land called..." But her questions keep coming.
"Gorm of the Diabhal," He answers quickly. "Yes but not very. These days, yes. That is... Do? Yes, I suppose.... Yes. Yes." Gorm answers in quick succession to her questions, doing his best to keep up and not lose track of the questions. Gorm stops and turns to the girl, perhaps too abruptly, and she all but runs into him. Gorm does not think he smiled this much since leaving home but once again he found himself quite charmed. Then the girl smiles up at him, dimples showing, and corrects her glasses and asks the real stunner of a question...
"Ye... No... Touch my what? Excuse me?" He'd been trying to answer her questions so quickly that her asking to touch his horns caught him totally off guard. It was his turn to feel heat rise in his cheeks.
"Perhaps we complete the exchanging of names before we move on to the touching or one another's... parts." Gorm suggests with a smirk before turning back towards Nightstone once more and setting a slightly slower pace than before.
"As I said" he goes on, assuming she will join him. "I am Gorm of the Diabhal. Al-Hadhar, city dwellers, generally just call me Gorm or Gorm Diabhal. My people come from the sands of the Anauroch desert. From below the Scimitar Spires to the very rim of the High Ice itself is our home. We are Al-Badia. Nomads, as you would say. Travelers and tribesmen. We are as scattered as the sands in a storm but we always come back together when needed..."
Gorm turns to the girl and gives his hand a gentle turn towards her, still awaiting her name.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Xondario let's out a sigh with a slight grin on his face. "Probably works better if your mother hears about me before meeting me. First impressions are hard to fix if you make a bad one, so best to set up for success then waste time cleaning up the mess." A saying the farmer's wife used to always say to them when they were in a rush. On more then one occasion Xondario considered telling Lady Jenira more of his situation and ask for her help. She seems eager to adventure and live out some of the stories she tells about, and he doesn't blame her, he himself used to daydream of roaming the land and righting the world's wrongs. But now with one of those adventures sitting at his doorstep, he's not sure what to do. He knows he needs help, as much as he wanted to grab his maul and follow the goblin horde, he knew it would solve nothing wxcept getting himself killed. Being dead wouldn't be the vengeance he seeks. He worries the grim nature of what he'll be getting into might damper her sunny disposition, and he won't want to do that to her. She as well as the rest of the caravan, but her most of all, has done so much for him already, he would hate to ask more of her already. Best stick with his original plan and go from there. Maybe if she does seek him out at the brew house, he will bring it up to her then.
"Hmmm ... You may be right." Jenira says seemingly pondering it over. "I am sure she would love you though. I don't know if she has ever met someone she didn't at least like. That is my mom's gift." Then the last part of what Xondario said catches up to her and a knowing glint enters her eyes. "Now, that is an interesting phrase. There must be a story there. You know, I would love to hear it."
She pauses for a second reading the underlying tension within Xondario and adds, "I mean, only if you want to." She gives him another small touch on the arm and facing him with a look of understanding and patience. Those mysterious freckles sparkling across the bridge of her nose.
Swept up in her own enthusiasm, Alyssa had gotten a little ahead of herself when the tiefling was so reciprocative with her curiosity. She had started to reach up when he'd politely remind her that they have yet to exchange names. Face flushing further, blue hues widen in realization of her over excitement and she'd move to tuck some stray hair behind her pointed ear as if that's what she intended to do all along. "Ye-yes! Yes of course." She couldn't help but glance down at her toes briefly in a poor attempt to hide her gentle embarrassment.
That quickly melts away as Gorm begins sharing about himself again, carrying on at his own pace, from the start. Alyssa immediately perks back up, pulling out her quill to make notes in her book as she habitually does. She scurries a bit to close the small gap to walk at his side, pausing just in time this time before running into him again when he goes to turn to address her once again. "Oop!" 'Recovering' quickly, she reaches for his hand without thinking. It's an awkward handshake considering the half-elf realized too late that he was gesturing to her, not offering his hand. She was committed to the formality at this point and inhales a short breath. "Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia." The blonde blurts almost as if it's formally rehearsed. When her smaller hand releases them of the exchange, she quickly corrects her glasses. "But please... just Alyssa." She'd present a genuine smile. "If you prefer less syllables, Lyssa, or simply A, is more than acceptable." She adds.
"May I accompany you on this shared path, Gorm Diabhal?" Lyssa asks her first question when he continues walking again, keeping up to follow along side. Wow he was all the way from the desert! "So you're not lost or anything then? Are you sure you sure you're not cold? You can borrow my cloak if the wind gets too much for you." She gestures with it, however continues her inquiries without skipping a beat. "Do you mind if I record notes? Do I have permission to draw your likeness?" And here she goes, launching into thinking all her questions out loud as she reopens her journal. "Do you have a favourite colour? Ouu, what about favourite food? Is there a main dish of Diabhal?" As Alyssa asks her questions she weaves a little as she walks, occasionally bumping arms with Gorm which then guides and corrects her for a bit before she starts drifting and naturally gravitating towards him again. "What brings a traveling nomad from the sands this way? Have you been this way before? Do you just wander the land or do you travel with somewhere in mind? Are you looking for work too?!" Alyssa bobs with that question before adding. "Do you mind if I ask questions?" She adjusts her glasses. Perhaps she could have asked that one much sooner... "Do you know the best place to look? Can I come too?" What if she couldn't keep up with Gorm's strides in the long run? "Are you in a rush?" He's been more than accommodating thus far though. "Would a piggy back ride offend you?" Maybe she's getting ahead of herself again. "What kind of work do you look for? Do you have any hobbies? How do you pass the time?..." It was more than clear that the half-elf was plenty capable of filling the air with conversation, well currently questions, for as long as he'd continue to entertain her by engaging. The longer A spent in the tiefling's patient company, the more comfort she found in his presence and would have her hovering close. In that time, most likely with reminders from Gorm (one at a time), Alyssa would eventually remember to start taking breaths between her questions and actually give him the opportunity to respond without feeling rushed.
just an unstable unicorn.
Gorm raises an eyebrow as she grasps his hand but smiles and returns the hold for a moment. He is unaccustomed to all of the Al-Hadhar customs so was unsure exactly what the make of this but her hand in his felt natural. As she bows her head he does so as well assuming it is part of a greeting ritual or such and he hopes he does it correctly.
"Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia," Gorm says slowly and carefully, trying to shape each name correctly. "May it be the good fortunes of fate which have intertwined our paths."
"I would be honored to share your path," Gorm answers her and slows his walk to accomodate the girl now that it is clear that she will be joining him... And that her questions will not be ending anytime soon. Much amused by her endless questioning Gorm Diabhal does his best to answer each and every question. His first attempts are to be fully open and answer with detail but he soon realizes that short, concise answers are best so that he can fit them in before the next answer being them off track entirely.
"No, I am not lost. I am on a kind of trial of my people that..."
"I would not mind it warmer but I am trying to get used to the..."
"Notes? Strange... But no, I do not mind. I would not share if I..."
"Are you an artist then? By trade? Do you have examples I could see?" Gorm answers, trying to turn at least some questions back at the Alyssa. She is an intriging girl and he cannot help but wonder if she ever runs out of steam.
"Favorite color? I do not think so. Do you?" He answers.
"Food? It all depends on how it is prepared, no? As wanderers we tend to make meals of what we can find where we find ourselves. In the desert there is not always a lot of options. I would say there is no main dish so much as a tradition of spices and seasoning which I have yet to taste since I have left my lands... Perhaps you can reccomend to me some of your favorite local meals?" He is happy to have find the time to squeeze in another question of his own.
As Alyssa becomes focused on her note taking and sketching she starts to weave and wander a bit, first away from Gorm and then seemingly unconsciously self correcting too much and back towards and eventually into him. Gorm does not mind and smiles the first couple of times it happens. Soon he is just as unconsciously putting a hand out and gently putting it on her arm and drawing her closer each time she begins to drift away, his touch light but lingering a bit longer each time.
"I am on a quest, of sorts," Gorm answers when Alyssa asks why he is traveling this way. "A trial is perhaps more correct. My people... One takes up a sword when they dedicate themselves to being a protector of the Diabhal," his hand briefly moves to his first sword as he says this as a kind of unintentional demonstration. "Most take up the sword even if they do not dedicate their life to it. If one can it is expected, yes?"
"The second sword is a different issue. Only the few take on a second sword." His hand does not move to the second sword but his eyes do. "To take the second sword is to dedicate your life to it, and more. It is a declaration that you are more than a protector of the people... You are a protector of all things just and worthy. One must be capable of mind and body and of spirit. Those worthy to wield the two swords become Qadi - impartial arbiters or all things. Not only must you be impartial and fair in all decisions but you must also be strong and capable enough to enforce them..."
"It is hubris to think oneself worthy of such a role. Arrogance. Yet the role is needed and no person can set anothers destiny before them."
"And so when one takes up the sword... The second sword... They are banished from the tribes and the land. For their arrogance, yes? Do you understand? Who is any person to set themselves up to be such a figure? How dare they declare themselves worthy to decide for other people? So they are cast out and may not return until they have proven themselves worthy of the second sword. That is why I am here, young Alyssa. To prove myself worthy to the gods, to my people and to myself..."
Gorm's hand once more reaches out to gently take Alyssa's arm and pull her closer yet she drift away.
"A job?" he answers with a bit of a chuckle. "Only when necessary. We Diabhal have a different mindset, perhaps, about jobs and works. We all do what we can where we can to help the tribe. No Diabhal employs another for the purpose of enriching themselves for that would harm the tribe as a whole, yes? So I will take on tasks when the need arises, of course, but I am not looking for a job. A job does not make one worthy of the sword. No, I suppose as the City Dweller would think of it my job is to earn the second sword. To challenge myself and grow and do greats deeds until I am worthy... For now I head to Nightstone. I have hear tell they have a problem with bandits and raiders of some sort. It will not earn me my sword bit it will perhaps be a step on the path perhaps."
"Of course you may come," Gorm replies, unsure if Alyssa means to Nightstone or after whatever threat it is that plagues the city. "Each sets their own destiny with their own decisions. Your accompanying me would be like rain in the desert... Most welcome."
Reaching out to correct the girl's course once more, Gorm gently places his hand on the small of her back and uses the lightest of pressure to pull her back alonside him, forgetting to remove his hand once she is. He answers many other of her questions, providing details when inquired after or sharing his thoughts on topics varied and sometimes confounding. The time passes far faster than it has any right to and much distance is passed in the comfort and pleasure of Alyssa's company.
"What is a 'piggy back ride'?" Gorm asks slowly, unsure if he heard Alyssa correctly. He believed he knew the animal she spoke of but he saw none in the area and so was unsure of what she meant. "I'm afraid I am ignorant of this."
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"Well Lady Jenira, though the saying is nothing more then that, Maybe someday I'll tell you about the person who repeated it to me." Just as he expected as they starting to crest a little hill, he could start to see the top of the sign post to Nightstone. Knowing Lady Jenira wouldn't quite see it yet he waited a sec before saying "but I'm afraid today won't be that today. For there it is... our turn to Nightstone."
His heart started to race a bit, Nightstone was close enough he felt he coukd see it. Soon enough he can seek Adelle out, she will know what he will need to do next. She always just seemed to know how things worked that Xondario couldn't understand. He knew the instant he walked out of those burning barns that he was going to go after those who did it, but after a couple of steps towards the direction they went, he somehow knew running off after them wouldn't be the right way to do it. The only one he knew to talk to is here in Nightstone. Now that he's here, that pressing need to find her filling his head again. He starts to pick up the pace a little without realizing it. His short time with the caravan made the trip go by quicker, though he probably could have made quicker on his own. His talks with Lady Jenira seemed to calm his nerves a little and was a welcome change, but now that Nightstone was so near, his nerves rose up again. The pit in his stomach return and he tighten his grip on the maul's handle. His slight grin disappearing, and he stands a bit straighter. She will know what to do, then we begin, then they die.
(Edited to fit Nightstone location/direction)
As the respective pairings make their way north, or south, along the High Road, you see figures in the distance. Other travellers, not uncommon. Likely heading from Waterdeep to Daggerford, or vice versa. Eventually you will pass, and nod, and continue your journeys. Except, that is not what happens.
A path splits away from the High Road and continues to the East, into the low hill country. Jenira and Xondario, you know this to be the path to Nightstone, and I imagine Alyssa has memorised the route from a map. Perhaps Gorm did the same, or is just waiting for a sign. And a sign there is, a tall wooden one.
The two groups meet at the junction and, knowing this is the turning, politely wait for the others to pass you and continue on their way. Instead all four of you find yourselves standing at the junction, waiting.
(Where the source book gives some text for the DM to read aloud, I will include it in a quote block, but will usually narrate around it to better fit it into our own story. Here's the first one:)
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
When Xondario mentions the turn to Nightstone, a smile lights up Jenira's face. "It's been so long since I have last visited home, and we are almost there!!" A small squeal escapes as she gives a happy skip. "Oh, I must go say good-bye to everyone. I think it will be just the two of us from here, they will continue on to Daggerford." At that she rushes off weaving between the various carts, hair whipping in the wind and robe whisking behind her.
She is so busy saying her goodbyes to each and every single one of the caravan members that she initially misses the figures approaching from the opposite direction. Jenira is all sunny smiles as she tells her final tales to the friendly caravan. Both her hair and her open frock flow in the wind as she waves goodbye. Soon enough it is just her and Xondario standing at the turn to Nightstone. 'Or maybe not.' Jenira finally notices the other two figures standing there seemingly waiting for them to pass.
Jenira is never one for awkward moments or meetings and turns to the two with a genuine smile, "Hello, I am Jenira and this is my friend Xondario. I take it you are headed to Nightstone as well. It is nice little town and it's been too long since I was last here. Have either of you been before?" Jenira presents her hand for a handshake to the two standing opposite her and Xondario.
As Lady Jenira ran off to say her farewells, Xondario figured she would be a bit, being the friendly sort she wouldn't stick to a goodbye and a wave to each. So he decided to walk over to the direction post and sit with his back against it. Had he stayed on his feet, he might not resist the urge to start walking before Lady Jenira returned. Plus he sees other travelers coming down the road as well, and he didn't make as big of a scene when sitting down.
As the two travelers approached Xondario coukd here them talking, they weren't close enough to make out the conversation, but close enough to hear their voices. They must have been singing, there was no pauses in their conversation just a music lesson, rhythmless song.
He kept his eyes pointed down, he could hear them well enough to not feel the need to watch them, they certainly weren't shy about what they were talking about with strangers about. He purposely didn't try toisten to what they were saying as they neared, and seemly walked pasted him down the pathway to Nightstone.
He did notice when they stopped talking however, which made him focus his attention without looking on what they were doing. Then he heard the all to familiar voice of Lady Jenira talking to them, and there was his name. So much for trying to blend in with scenery. He had nothing to hide, and it wasn't that he distrusted people, but he finds meeting new people rarely goes well for him.
He picks his head up towards them and finally take a inspection of them. They were an even more unlikely pair then him and Lady Jenira. That was the fittest tiefling he had ever saw, not that he seen many but there were a few he remembered on the streets of Waterdeep. Xondario didn't fail to notice those mean looking blades at his side either. And she was ... drawing? Well this is going to be an interesting last bit of the journey. Just need to get to Nightstone. Well let's get this over with.
As he sees them glance over at the mention of him he stands up, straighter then he normally does meeting new people but he felt the need to let this new comer with the nasty blades know he's there. Best keep close to Lady Jenira, just incase. He simply nods to them.
"I'm afraid I am ignorant of this,” Gorm was just finishing saying as he notices the carts and people all paused up the road a ways. Unconsciously he steps half in front of Alyssa and slows their pace. “Company ahead,” he explains.
Seeing that it just appeared to be a train of travelers Gorm kept their pace slowed but did not grow alarmed. “Looks like they’re letting a couple off at our turn,” he notes. He finds he has mixed feelings on potentially sharing the road to Nightstone with others - On one hand there will be others for Alyssa to ask endless questions of but on the other hand there’ll be others for Alyssa to ask endless questions of.
Arriving before the main throng of people have started off, Gorm brings himself and Alyssa off to the side of the road so as to be out of their way. It’s impossible not to note the rather large man sitting against the sign post, nor the teacher social woman who is also apparently departing from the others here but for different reasons. Gorm was still deciding if he should be social or not when the woman decides the issue for them all…
Gorm nods to these new individuals as their names are given and responds “I am Gorm or the Diabhal…” and pauses awkwardly. Should he present Alyssa to them as if she is part of his group and under his protection or would that be overly presumptuous? He takes Jenira’s proffered hand, it is the usual greeting clasp, not the variant Alyssa had used earlier, and he turns to Alyssa to get a read on how to proceed based upon her expression… Meanwhile the man-giant is left all but behind Gorm. This does not make the warrior happy but he certainly was no going to show weakness, or even wariness, in front of the City Dwellers.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Soft coos of acknowledgement and happy hums leave Alyssa as she makes notes and listens to Gorm answer her questions one by one. When he’d flip a question back at her, she’d glance up with a genuine look of surprise first, then a soft smile. “No…” She’d push her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “I’m a scholar by trade.” Lyssa admits. “I sketch to accompany my notes what words do not accurately describe.” She explains. “However, I do draw during leisure…” Her cheeks grow warm again. “To practice preserving details for memories…” A glances back at her pages. “Perhaps when we aren’t motion?” She’d offer to share some of her work when not walking.
”Sky blue?” Alyssa tilts her head, figuring that she gravitates to the cool colour as a favourite. Almost how she imagines the colour of her magic.
Lyssa looks thoughtful to Gorm’s answer to her question about food. ”I can absolutely agree with that!” She found herself enjoying that perspective. What that meant, is that she can have multiple kinds of favourite food. She liked that. “Happy to give my recommendations should we share a meal sometime.”
Alyssa was happy to continue to jot down her annotations and sketch her drafts as she’s gently and safely guided along. She listened to what Gorm was sharing, practically hanging onto every word he shares of his cultures and their customs. Absorbed in it, she hugs his side not to miss anything or stray off the path. To not interrupt him, she’d write down her questions for a later time.
“It originally started via ‘pickpack’ actually, like a backpack, however eventually muddled and changed in modern word play, or slang, to ‘piggyback’.” Alyssa begins to explain that it’s not about an animal, and gestures to her back like packs adventurers would have. She glances up and corrects her glasses. “Would I have permission to mount you?” She tries to summarize her ask when he’d point out company.
”Oh!” Alyssa pops up on her tip toes, poking out a little to look out from Gorm’s side. She peeks out to the pair being pointed out to her and gives a little wave. “Hi!” The half-elf‘s blue hues meets the charismatic woman’s. “Yes! We’re heading to Nightstone.” She steps forward. “I’ve never been.” Lyssa admits. “Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia.“ She offers her hand in the traditional manner to Janira. “But please... just Alyssa." She'd present her dimpled smile. "If you prefer less syllables, Lyssa, or simply A, is more than acceptable." She adds. “Are you familiar with this route?”
just an unstable unicorn.
Jenira smiles brightly at the two of them. She shakes Gorm's hand firmly and without hesitation, "Well met. Gorm of the Diabhal." She then both sees and hears Alyssa from behind Gorm. "To you as well Alyssa Alyssin Anastasia Amastacia. I will start with just Alyssa."
She gives a slight turn to Xondario to include him in the conversation. "I think Alyssa is more likely the Lady you think I am,." She turns to Alyssa and gives her a wink mysterious freckles twinkling, "Especially with a name like that. As to your question, yes. I am very familiar with this route."
She turns and begins walking the road to Nightstone, wind catching here unbound hair and open robe. She gives a playful head nod to Xondario gesturing him to follow her. And without glancing behind her she gives a little shout, "You are more than welcome to join us. Gorm of the Diabhal and just Alyssa. I promise I am a more than adequate traveling companion. I have stories to tell as I am sure you do as well."
As Xondario joins her on the road, Jenira turns to him mischief sparking in her green eyes, "So Nightstone ... It isn't far now. Are you absolutely sure I can't convince you to at least join me and my family for dinner?"