Rynle stops at the edge of the crowd, feeling a little out of place and a touch awkward as she leans against the base of the statue to finish tying her laces. It's odd, but for a public event, she feels oddly like she's intruding; the sense of panic and the small knots of friends and families leave her feeling more like an outsider than she had since she arrived. There's no one immediately around her whose name she can remember -- oh, she knows a face or two, maybe an anecdote, but beyond that? She sighs, and shrugs uncomfortably, trying to hear over the press of people and upset of small children.
Attack near the broderwood, she thinks she hears, before it's buried under a landslide of demands about the weather. As though the weather was going to pounce on them today! Yes it should probably be talked about, yes it might in the larger picture be a bigger problem, but if an attack was happening, then it was a problem now, where as the weather was more long term. But oh, sure, let's all run around like headless chickens focusing on a problem besides the one currently hanging a blade over their necks.
She doesn't spot Menander or Kale, but Aki's head suddenly rears above the crowd. Ryn doesn't know her that well, but she's been a frequent patron of the Stoat in the time she's been here and they've chatted enough that Rynle at least remembers her name, which puts her - excuse the pun - head and shoulders above the rest of the people Rynle can see nearby, and maybe she heard something Rynle didn't. "Did they say 'attack'?" She doesn't know Aki's companion, besides seeing him hide behind a book a couple of times, so she limits herself to a polite nod to him as moves up on the red-head's other side. "Shouldn't someone be doing something about that?"
In spite of such uplifting words, Rathakk still found himself tugging at the corners of his hood subconsciously, and studiously avoid meeting anyone else's gaze in the crowd. Incidentally, he turns in time to catch traces of the nod from Zylsys. Uncertain, however, if it was merely a trick of the eyes or some weird elf thing, he kind of blinks owlishly, and then stares with his head half-cocked to the side.
"Hu-wha? Slender le-ohh…. Hm... Depends." He states mysteriously, the faintest playing at the corner of his lips. The instant Ryn speaks up, all traces of humor -- not that there was much to begin with -- drop at the sound of her voice. The hand on the quarterstaff starts tightening until the wood faintly begins moaning its complaints. This time there were no traces of concern or nonchalance to disrupt the natural menace that came with him looming over with eyes faintly glowing red amidst the shadows of his hood. He holds the dead-eye stare for a few heartbeats, and then... nods mechanically in acknowledgement before turning his gaze back on to the forefront of the crowd.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
When Aki watches Zylsys turn and nod, revealing her pointed elvish ears, it finally hits her. This was the folk hero of Heldren.
She remembers how her father used to speak of her, how she lived for far longer than any normal human could. She remembers her work at the temple, her reputation for being one of the most talented, most skilled individuals in all of Heldren. People would come to her to hunting and training, and she would teach them all, old or young.
She also remembers how they first met.
Aki takes a deep inhale, then another draw from her waterskin. When she lowers it, she sees the finely-dressed woman with the leather jerkin and the shortbow over one shoulder. She fights the urge to stiffen up. "Stain-scrubber," she nods back to Rynle. "This is the first time I saw you outside of the Sloat. I didn't take you for one who'd attend town events."
She twists her mouth downward. "That's what I heard. 'Attack'. Cat Ears over there is trying to find out what kind of attack." She rests an elbow against Rathakk's shoulder, then sets her head upon it. Her fingers drum against her thigh before she speaks again. "To be honest, I have a mind to check out what's out there. All this, it's... it's too close for comfort."
Sitting on Rathakk's shoulders, Aki could feel the muscles in his body tighten up. She tilts her head in the half-orc's direction. "Something wrong, magic-dabbler? Is Ryn scaring you?"
For his part, Rathakk largely tried to tune out the conversation; but, that was a task easier said than done. Just as he began entertaining the notion of risking Aki's wrath by abruptly setting her back down on the ground, beady black eyes widen to the size of tea cup saucers, and cheeks darken ever so much.
Every instinct demanded a swift denial, and recompense for the insult. But, he didn't spend so many quiet moments over the years staring into any reflective surface available just to lose his cool. Otherwise, there would been a few more notable scars on his body (besides the one just below from resulting from the one-time prank incident), or one less half-orc in town ages ago.
So, after sucking in another deep breath, he forcefully relaxes his shoulders. Not so much that Aki would go spilling off of them at any second, but enough to ease the tension."Not as scared as Aki earlier." He deadpans. A few seconds passes before he dares to break the stoic façade to glance warily over to his red-haired rider.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
As Rathakk glances over, Aki doesn't have a scowl on her face, but rather, a raised eyebrow.
The girl didn't understand where the snip came from. She felt his muscles tighten up. She saw the slow, almost mechanical nod, one of someone who acted upon habit and not pure, intentional thought. It was a motion she knew well, too well in her opinion. The memory it arose brought a sour taste to her tongue.
"Easy, half-orc," Aki says, after readjusting her balance on Rathakk's shoulders. "If you wish for me to not ask about your well-being, that's fine. You do not need to be a milk-livered moldwarp about it."
She huffs as she crosses her arms over, then returns to her search through the crowd. The girl had to admit though: as much as she scoffed at the idea of her being scared, it was nice seeing the orc with some backbone for once. The boy was learning, she thinks to herself.
Aki, you continue to scan the crowd for your mother and sister, but even with your vantage point, you are unable to find them.
Ionnia nods in reply to you, Zylsys, wiping a tear from her eye. "Yes. And I am afraid that this attack is unlike any of the previous bandit attacks." Feeling brave again, she speaks up loud enough to be heard over the crowd, almost forcing them into silence. "The bandits have attacked the caravan of Lady Argentea Malassene outside the Border Wood as she was en route from Zimar to Oppara!" The silence of the crowd turned to murmurs and hushed whispers. "A survivor of the attack was discovered early this morning, and he has grave news. He claims that the bandits were not acting alone, but were aided by a group of fey creatures wielding powerful, cold magic. Together, the two groups kidnapped Lady Argentea and brought her deeper into the Wood."
Silence again.
"We are too far from Oppara to rely on timely military aid in this matter, and the High Sentinels have not been heard from for days. We are short on options here. He wishes to speak to any able-bodied person that is willing to attempt a rescue. He is currently being seen by Elder Natharen and Zaarida at the temple." Ionnia turns to Zylsys again. "I am sure they would appreciate your help as well."
There is an ever so subtle change in the color of Zylsys face as she hears those words. She thinks back to the visions which haunted her dreams the past night. Frozen countrysides. Are these fae responsible for what comes? Is this what Erastil warns me of?
Looking her old acquaintance in the eye, Zylsys assures her, "Did you say powerful cold magic? Perhaps our two problems aren't so unrelated. Rest assured, I think Erastil is with us on this, and I will do all I can to help."
Zylsys turns to the half-orc nearby. "Rathakk, if there's anyone in the town that can help figure out this magic it's you. Perhaps you should come as well." With those words, she quickly makes her way back to the temple. These visions I've been having must be getting to me. I must have walked right past them at some point.
Weariness turns to brow-knitting confusion, for in the first time in many moons, Rathakk was struct genuinely speechless over something NOT pertaining to an epiphany. Short of a jest, and sometimes even then, fiery Aki took lip from no one. Or at least, so the half-orc heard repeated at one point or another. After hearing her actually speak however, and following a muttered "aye, aye" as he turned away immediately after, all the tension leaves him in a small sigh of relief.
The world was right again.
Rathakk snaps to attention as the crowd goes silent. As others murmured and whispered among themselves, the half-orc just stares in wide-eyed shock. Shock so deep, the man doesn't even fully realize he was moments away from trying to grab and lift Aki off his shoulders when Zylsys melodious words cut into the fog. At first he just stares at her blankly, his hands having fall to the wayside in much the same fashion as his staff. But given another few seconds to come to, Rathakk tucks in his top lip in distaste, but gives a quick nod in acknowledgement all the same.
As he starts to pass by Rynle, he pauses to regard her again at length, giving Aki plenty of time to try and jump ship should she choose to on her own. Because outside of voicing a complaint, there was little chance of him paying her sleight weight much mind now that half-orc had a mission in mind. "You come as well, outsider." He doesn't wait for an answer before briskly making his way to the temple.
All thoughts of still finding his mother vanishes from the forefront.
Alarm bells clank in Aki's head, but no movement comes to her face.
It was not the first time she heard an announcement of the bandits' crimes. Purses stolen, caravans raided, it was all typical. Sometimes she'd hear of her own crimes, so she'd have to stand there, chin up, pretending like she didn't know a thing. It brought a heat to her cheeks and a storm to her belly, like they were announcing her offenses before hanging her. Eventually, she learned how to hide it, but the fear never died down.
This was different though. As a chill runs through the crowd, a chill rams through Aki's chest. She lifts a hand, presses it against the spinning top she had for a head. Kidnapping? The fey? She thought the raiders were a simple, "Give us the coin, and everyone lives" troupe. Abductions were never something the bandits did. They only wanted the money. At least, that's what Aki thought. There was the odd rumor she heard of, but Rohka was always reading and toying about with strange things.
Was he the reason for the chilly weather?
Aki's balance stumbles as Rathakk steps forward. She gives one last look through the crowd, but once again, is unable to find her family. They must be in bed, Aki thinks to herself. Nursing Estaria's sickness, no doubt. She slings a leg around, slides off Rathakk's shoulders. When her feet hit the ground, the girl stares at Rathakk and Zylsys making their way to the temple. She then turns, stares back in the direction of her two-room cabin.
This was a terrible, terrible idea.
Aki lowers her head and follows the half-orc and the elf to the temple.
As the group approaches the temple, you notice that you are among the only ones. The majority of the villagers stay behind, shuffling their feet.
You who are Heldren natives find the temple with no problem, especially Zylsys, and Rynle can reliably follow your lead.
The door to the temple is open, and there is some commotion inside. You see Elder Natharen, a half-elf man with short, gray hair and sunken features, leaning over a large human male lying on the altar. The man has braided blond hair and a bushy beard, but probably the most striking thing about him are the patches of deep purple covering his skin, as well as various small cuts. Natharen's hands glow with a warm light as he moves them over the man's body. Without looking up at him, he calls out, "Grandmother! I could use your expertise!"
The man on the altar, with what seems to be considerable effort, turns to view you as you enter. "Is this... the rescue effort?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Zylsys walked right to the wounded man. "In times of crisis, you must make do with what you have. These are capable individuals."
As she's saying this, Zylsys is examining him, looking at the worst of the bruises and the wounds. Lifting up his arm to view his side. She's methodical and clinical in her mannerisms, and you can tell that she and Nathander have done this before. Nothing she does interferes with his healing in the slightest.
Medicine to determine the nature of his wounds and best care procedures: 14.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Rathakk glowers at the man, but bit back a retort once Zylsys steps in to talk.
In through the nose... Out again....
Twice over the half-orc repeated the action alongside a silent mantra with eyes clenched tight, and hands occasionally flexing at his side. As soon as a semblance of calm settles over the young man, he quietly approaches the altar, but keeps in mind to give both elves plenty of breathing room to do their magic. During the interim he studies the man's injury as best as he could from a distance, drudging up every scrap of lore that might point to magical or natural inference.
History:18 (same bonus if Arcana is more applicable)
"Talk." He states flatly as he learned down at the man. "Places. Number. Goal. When... Where. Talk, quickly." Rathakk questions. While not the most pleasant way to go about things, he nevertheless hoped to distract the man from Zylsys plying of her trade.
Aki glances about, stares at the small group of people who gathered in the temple.
She had to admit: the response was pretty pitiful. Her eyes pour over the ragtag individuals rallied from the town square, the hodgepodge of hunters, wanderers, and old veterans crowded in the single room. Some were old, others far too young, with gear that seemed more fit for rabbits than the Fey. Heldren was far from a sizable town with iron-plated adventurers and elite spearman guards, and it showed.
This was going to be a slaughter.
Aki leans against a worn, wooden pew. Her arms twist over her chest, while her lips twist toward the ground. This is not your fight, a voice echoes in her head. Go home. And yet, she couldn't move. Something stuck to the soles of her feet, anchored her in-place as Zylsys and Rathakk spoke. She didn't like the rumor of the bandits meddling with the Fey; rather, she hated it. The feeling was far from something she'd die over, however.
She sighs as she sets aside the mystery, then looks up. "Answer the blunt-tongue. I'd like to know of this Lady Argentea Malassene as well. Who is she? Why would she be a valuable target to kidnap? Merely for coin, or is there something more?"
"I highly doubt the Fey have the same monetary goals as we do."
Ryn had wondered, once or twice when the half-orc had come into the Stoat if he actually was glowering at her or if his face had simply frozen in that expression, but the flat look she receives as she moves next to him and Aki answers that neatly in its clear unwelcomeness -- and its contrast to the look he gives Aki. Her chin lifts imperiously, but her half-formed demand for an explanation is cut off by the woman starting to speak again.
So it's somewhat disconcerting when the half-orc turns and basically orders her to follow him. Indignant, she meets his glower levelly, challenging, almost daring him to dismiss her or write her off.
"You come as well, outsider." He doesn't wait for an answer before briskly making his way to the temple.
She scowls at his back, appreciating neither the command nor the diss - and appreciating even less that now he's going to think she's obeying him if she does what she wanted to do anyway. Still, she's not stupid enough to cut off her nose to spite her face, so she does follow -- if only because it seems likely to be the only way for her to get any actual information about what is going on.
Still, it rankles, and for someone who'd had no issue with the half-orc ten minutes ago, she seems to have gathered a number of them in a short time.
The temple is quiet and the man is heavily marked. Curiously so, and she moves as close as she can without interfering with the healers, paying close attention to examining one of the larger patches as she keeps half an ear on the conversation.
Aki glances over, sees Rynle making her way to the front. Again, she fights the urge to stiffen up at the familiar woman. Instead, she raises a hand, then gives a nod in her direction. "New girl," she says, with an uncharacteristic lack of bite in her voice. "Good to see you didn't get lost. Are you here for the suicide squad? Or did you simply wish to learn about the attack?"
She crosses both arms over her chest, her gaze out the tall, temple windows. "I do not know why I am still here. I should be back home, nursing my little sister and my 'baby'," she scoffs. "Perhaps it is morbid curiosity. The attraction one gets from watching a fight or a dead body. It is hard to pull your eyes away from." Again, the strange feeling rises, welling up her body and lodging itself in her throat, making it hard to speak. She takes a deep inhale, then exhales. The lodge lowers, settling in her chest instead.
Aki pushes off the pew, approaches Rynle toward the front of the crowd. With a lowered voice, she says, "Do yourself, Menander and Kale a favor: stay in Heldren. I know of your injuries. I know you are far from full recovery. Stay home." She looks at Rynle's eyes, then down at her chest. Something flickers in Aki's pair of eyes, but it quickly vanishes.
"In times of crisis, you must make do with what you have. These are capable individuals."
The man groans in pain. "The men and women I traveled with were capable individuals as well. Until those blasted fey showed up."
Zylsys, your Medicine check lets you know that the many cuts across the man's body were likely caused by smaller-than-average slashing and piercing weapons. He also seems to be frostbitten on his fingers and nose.
Rathakk, your History check does not reveal much more about the nature of his injuries. He seems to be covered in mundane, if small, wounds, which are definitely indicative of the tiny weapons of the fey. Without more to go on, however, you do not get much more than that.
"We were attacked right at the lip of the Border Wood last night, just south of here. There were... a dozen or so bandits that attacked us, but I couldn't get a good number on the fey. They turn invisible until they attack you, so there could have been as few as three that kept weaving through the trees, or a great many more that took turns firing at us from stationary positions."
"Answer the blunt-tongue. I'd like to know of this Lady Argentea Malassene as well. Who is she? Why would she be a valuable target to kidnap? Merely for coin, or is there something more?"
"Lady Argentea is a young noblewoman from Oppara. That is where we were headed when we were attacked, returning home from Zimar. If it were just bandits, I imagine she would be a valuable hostage, and I would expect a ransom note to be sent to Oppara demanding payment for her safe return. But with these winter-touched... who can tell?"
Noticing some raised eyebrows at the mention of "winter-touched", he continues.
"Ah. The winter-touched are fey creatures from the far northern country of Irrisen. They are fey who have pledged themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen. Legends say they have taken a sliver of ice into their hearts, and their touch bears the harsh bite of winter." He groans as he sits up to better see you all, much to the protest of Natharen. "Do not let their small stature fool you. They are fierce creatures. I was one of nine bodyguards in that caravan, and we never stood a chance against them. I did not mean to insult you earlier, I merely wish to express my... concern that such a small party may not be up to the job of rescuing and protecting Lady Argentea where nine trained soldiers failed."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Her inventory completed, Zylsys placed her hands lightly on the worst of the man's wounds, praying in some lyrical celestial language. A white light emanates from her palms, and the smallest of the wounds close up instantly, while the larger ones scab over with an unnatural speed.
Zylsys casts Cure Wounds on the soldier to heal 6.
Her work completed, Zylsys grasps the soldiers shoulder. "We'll have surprise on our side, and we don't have to take on the whole camp to rescue a captive. Did you perchance see which way they went with the Lady Melassene?"
Rathakk was better prepared this time around. Though it still takes time for some of the natural menacing aura to simmer down during the explanation, at least by the end the man no longer had to cling on to that lingering concern of an outburst. His curiosity peeked, nonetheless, Rathakk goes from fidgeting in place to stepping away from the others, and furiously combing a hand through the man tangled knots of black hair adorning much of his scalp.
It is a sight at least Zylsys might be familiar with from poor attempts at masking an insatiable curiosity. And yet, and with a gruff huff after a solid minute of pacing, he starts to approach the altar again, but stops short after seeing and hearing the blessing with mouth agape. It takes a good deal of willpower, but somehow noone is bowled over in an excited rush from the half-orc infamous delight at executed magic. Instead, he just snaps it closed, and turns to Aki and Rynle with an expectant look and arms folded across his chest. Granted, in Aki's case it was more so by proximity to Rynle.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"The old elf's right," Aki mutters under her breath. "I haven't heard of this 'tea lady' before. But if she's worth any amount of salt, she'd have guards worth ten sad excuses from any town around here, including Heldren. It would have to be in, then out." She finds a bit of dirt on her shoulder, flicks it away before looking up. "I'm not interested in bandit hunting. I have enough on my plate already."
"I have a feeling Tea Girl knows more about than she gives off though. Especially if the otherworldly is involved."
Her eyes watch as the light flashed from Zylsys' palms, followed by the man's wounds healing over. Aki grew up as a simple girl, with simple wants and a simple life. She knew little of the arcane or the divine. All she knew was if someone was speaking odd things to you, it was either a boon or a curse. Granted, there was a significant spectrum between the two, so it was hard to decide whether to begrudgingly thank someone or cut them in half, but it was something she could worry about after the fact.
The last time she saw that particular magic, however, it was used upon her after an attack from an owlbear.
She looks to Rathakk's expectant gaze and his crossed arms. The redhead sighs and runs a hand through her hair, beneath her hood the color of ash. This was all so stupid, she thinks to herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had a family to take care of. A little sister who just recently fell ill. She can't afford to go on some wild goose chase, searching for a noble who very well may be dead, against creatures who very well can't die.
On the other hand, she was a noble. A figure of high society and riches. If she saved her, she could easily pull Aki and her family out of poverty. Out of cold nights with nothing to eat. Out of hunting and crime. She could be an ordinary, everyday girl again. The thought made her throat go dry, put pressure on the backs of her eyes. She takes another deep breath in, then out.
"Okay," she says to Rathakk. "Okay. I'll come with you. But only to find the woman. That's it." She turns her gaze to Zylsys, still over the wounded man. "And I need some time. I have some... errands... to finish running." Her voice betrays a hint of a quiver.
"I also know a friend who can help us find our woman."
Aki glances over, sees Rynle making her way to the front. Again, she fights the urge to stiffen up at the familiar woman. Instead, she raises a hand, then gives a nod in her direction. "New girl," she says, with an uncharacteristic lack of bite in her voice. "Good to see you didn't get lost. Are you here for the suicide squad? Or did you simply wish to learn about the attack?"
Stain scrubber. Outsider. New girl. "I have a name," She says, with a scowl. "And I certainly didn't come for the welcoming atmosphere." Desna's Star! The sailor's on the Yellowfin, while rough, crude and in need of a refresher course in hygiene, had had better manners than these two. She'd have left, if that didn't feel like admitting defeat, because it wasn't her problem, really, but the bit was between her teeth now.
Aki pushes off the pew, approaches Rynle toward the front of the crowd. With a lowered voice, she says, "Do yourself, Menander and Kale a favor: stay in Heldren. I know of your injuries. I know you are far from full recovery. Stay home." She looks at Rynle's eyes, then down at her chest. Something flickers in Aki's pair of eyes, but it quickly vanishes.
Her gaze sharpens a little, measuring the other girl. The fact that she'd been injured in the bandit raid was well-known through town, but the extent of it, the lingering aches and twangs, she hadn't thought was that well known. Zylsys, certainly, and Kale and Menander, but she wasn't the type to complain about her sore ribs and determinedly walked with the same straight posture as always. And there was something tickling at the back of her mind that she couldn't quite put her finger on, something jarring about the way the girl had said 'the same monetary concerns as us' that niggled at her. "I'm hardly going to get home if the bandits get worse, am I? I've already been here longer than I wanted - and quite clearly longer than most of you wanted. I have a job to get back to, and it won't wait forever."
Instead, he just snaps it closed, and turns to Aki and Rynle with an expectant look and arms folded across his chest. Granted, in Aki's case it was more so by proximity to Rynle.
She stares back at him, arms crossed and raises a pointed eyebrow. She'll be damned if she's going to continue to put up with being treated like an enemy to someone she's never shared more than ten words with. "Yes? Did you want something? In case you were never taught you better, it's rude to stare."
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Rynle stops at the edge of the crowd, feeling a little out of place and a touch awkward as she leans against the base of the statue to finish tying her laces. It's odd, but for a public event, she feels oddly like she's intruding; the sense of panic and the small knots of friends and families leave her feeling more like an outsider than she had since she arrived. There's no one immediately around her whose name she can remember -- oh, she knows a face or two, maybe an anecdote, but beyond that? She sighs, and shrugs uncomfortably, trying to hear over the press of people and upset of small children.
Attack near the broderwood, she thinks she hears, before it's buried under a landslide of demands about the weather. As though the weather was going to pounce on them today! Yes it should probably be talked about, yes it might in the larger picture be a bigger problem, but if an attack was happening, then it was a problem now, where as the weather was more long term. But oh, sure, let's all run around like headless chickens focusing on a problem besides the one currently hanging a blade over their necks.
She doesn't spot Menander or Kale, but Aki's head suddenly rears above the crowd. Ryn doesn't know her that well, but she's been a frequent patron of the Stoat in the time she's been here and they've chatted enough that Rynle at least remembers her name, which puts her - excuse the pun - head and shoulders above the rest of the people Rynle can see nearby, and maybe she heard something Rynle didn't. "Did they say 'attack'?" She doesn't know Aki's companion, besides seeing him hide behind a book a couple of times, so she limits herself to a polite nod to him as moves up on the red-head's other side. "Shouldn't someone be doing something about that?"
In spite of such uplifting words, Rathakk still found himself tugging at the corners of his hood subconsciously, and studiously avoid meeting anyone else's gaze in the crowd. Incidentally, he turns in time to catch traces of the nod from Zylsys. Uncertain, however, if it was merely a trick of the eyes or some weird elf thing, he kind of blinks owlishly, and then stares with his head half-cocked to the side.
"Hu-wha? Slender le-ohh…. Hm... Depends." He states mysteriously, the faintest playing at the corner of his lips. The instant Ryn speaks up, all traces of humor -- not that there was much to begin with -- drop at the sound of her voice. The hand on the quarterstaff starts tightening until the wood faintly begins moaning its complaints. This time there were no traces of concern or nonchalance to disrupt the natural menace that came with him looming over with eyes faintly glowing red amidst the shadows of his hood. He holds the dead-eye stare for a few heartbeats, and then... nods mechanically in acknowledgement before turning his gaze back on to the forefront of the crowd.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
When Aki watches Zylsys turn and nod, revealing her pointed elvish ears, it finally hits her. This was the folk hero of Heldren.
She remembers how her father used to speak of her, how she lived for far longer than any normal human could. She remembers her work at the temple, her reputation for being one of the most talented, most skilled individuals in all of Heldren. People would come to her to hunting and training, and she would teach them all, old or young.
She also remembers how they first met.
Aki takes a deep inhale, then another draw from her waterskin. When she lowers it, she sees the finely-dressed woman with the leather jerkin and the shortbow over one shoulder. She fights the urge to stiffen up. "Stain-scrubber," she nods back to Rynle. "This is the first time I saw you outside of the Sloat. I didn't take you for one who'd attend town events."
She twists her mouth downward. "That's what I heard. 'Attack'. Cat Ears over there is trying to find out what kind of attack." She rests an elbow against Rathakk's shoulder, then sets her head upon it. Her fingers drum against her thigh before she speaks again. "To be honest, I have a mind to check out what's out there. All this, it's... it's too close for comfort."
Sitting on Rathakk's shoulders, Aki could feel the muscles in his body tighten up. She tilts her head in the half-orc's direction. "Something wrong, magic-dabbler? Is Ryn scaring you?"
For his part, Rathakk largely tried to tune out the conversation; but, that was a task easier said than done. Just as he began entertaining the notion of risking Aki's wrath by abruptly setting her back down on the ground, beady black eyes widen to the size of tea cup saucers, and cheeks darken ever so much.
Every instinct demanded a swift denial, and recompense for the insult. But, he didn't spend so many quiet moments over the years staring into any reflective surface available just to lose his cool. Otherwise, there would been a few more notable scars on his body (besides the one just below from resulting from the one-time prank incident), or one less half-orc in town ages ago.
So, after sucking in another deep breath, he forcefully relaxes his shoulders. Not so much that Aki would go spilling off of them at any second, but enough to ease the tension."Not as scared as Aki earlier." He deadpans. A few seconds passes before he dares to break the stoic façade to glance warily over to his red-haired rider.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
As Rathakk glances over, Aki doesn't have a scowl on her face, but rather, a raised eyebrow.
The girl didn't understand where the snip came from. She felt his muscles tighten up. She saw the slow, almost mechanical nod, one of someone who acted upon habit and not pure, intentional thought. It was a motion she knew well, too well in her opinion. The memory it arose brought a sour taste to her tongue.
"Easy, half-orc," Aki says, after readjusting her balance on Rathakk's shoulders. "If you wish for me to not ask about your well-being, that's fine. You do not need to be a milk-livered moldwarp about it."
She huffs as she crosses her arms over, then returns to her search through the crowd. The girl had to admit though: as much as she scoffed at the idea of her being scared, it was nice seeing the orc with some backbone for once. The boy was learning, she thinks to herself.
Aki, you continue to scan the crowd for your mother and sister, but even with your vantage point, you are unable to find them.
Ionnia nods in reply to you, Zylsys, wiping a tear from her eye. "Yes. And I am afraid that this attack is unlike any of the previous bandit attacks." Feeling brave again, she speaks up loud enough to be heard over the crowd, almost forcing them into silence. "The bandits have attacked the caravan of Lady Argentea Malassene outside the Border Wood as she was en route from Zimar to Oppara!" The silence of the crowd turned to murmurs and hushed whispers. "A survivor of the attack was discovered early this morning, and he has grave news. He claims that the bandits were not acting alone, but were aided by a group of fey creatures wielding powerful, cold magic. Together, the two groups kidnapped Lady Argentea and brought her deeper into the Wood."
Silence again.
"We are too far from Oppara to rely on timely military aid in this matter, and the High Sentinels have not been heard from for days. We are short on options here. He wishes to speak to any able-bodied person that is willing to attempt a rescue. He is currently being seen by Elder Natharen and Zaarida at the temple." Ionnia turns to Zylsys again. "I am sure they would appreciate your help as well."
Reign of Winter Groups A and B - DM
793.93 DUN
There is an ever so subtle change in the color of Zylsys face as she hears those words. She thinks back to the visions which haunted her dreams the past night. Frozen countrysides. Are these fae responsible for what comes? Is this what Erastil warns me of?
Looking her old acquaintance in the eye, Zylsys assures her, "Did you say powerful cold magic? Perhaps our two problems aren't so unrelated. Rest assured, I think Erastil is with us on this, and I will do all I can to help."
Zylsys turns to the half-orc nearby. "Rathakk, if there's anyone in the town that can help figure out this magic it's you. Perhaps you should come as well." With those words, she quickly makes her way back to the temple. These visions I've been having must be getting to me. I must have walked right past them at some point.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Alarm bells clank in Aki's head, but no movement comes to her face.
It was not the first time she heard an announcement of the bandits' crimes. Purses stolen, caravans raided, it was all typical. Sometimes she'd hear of her own crimes, so she'd have to stand there, chin up, pretending like she didn't know a thing. It brought a heat to her cheeks and a storm to her belly, like they were announcing her offenses before hanging her. Eventually, she learned how to hide it, but the fear never died down.
This was different though. As a chill runs through the crowd, a chill rams through Aki's chest. She lifts a hand, presses it against the spinning top she had for a head. Kidnapping? The fey? She thought the raiders were a simple, "Give us the coin, and everyone lives" troupe. Abductions were never something the bandits did. They only wanted the money. At least, that's what Aki thought. There was the odd rumor she heard of, but Rohka was always reading and toying about with strange things.
Was he the reason for the chilly weather?
Aki's balance stumbles as Rathakk steps forward. She gives one last look through the crowd, but once again, is unable to find her family. They must be in bed, Aki thinks to herself. Nursing Estaria's sickness, no doubt. She slings a leg around, slides off Rathakk's shoulders. When her feet hit the ground, the girl stares at Rathakk and Zylsys making their way to the temple. She then turns, stares back in the direction of her two-room cabin.
This was a terrible, terrible idea.
Aki lowers her head and follows the half-orc and the elf to the temple.
As the group approaches the temple, you notice that you are among the only ones. The majority of the villagers stay behind, shuffling their feet.
You who are Heldren natives find the temple with no problem, especially Zylsys, and Rynle can reliably follow your lead.
The door to the temple is open, and there is some commotion inside. You see Elder Natharen, a half-elf man with short, gray hair and sunken features, leaning over a large human male lying on the altar. The man has braided blond hair and a bushy beard, but probably the most striking thing about him are the patches of deep purple covering his skin, as well as various small cuts. Natharen's hands glow with a warm light as he moves them over the man's body. Without looking up at him, he calls out, "Grandmother! I could use your expertise!"
The man on the altar, with what seems to be considerable effort, turns to view you as you enter. "Is this... the rescue effort?"
Reign of Winter Groups A and B - DM
793.93 DUN
Zylsys walked right to the wounded man. "In times of crisis, you must make do with what you have. These are capable individuals."
As she's saying this, Zylsys is examining him, looking at the worst of the bruises and the wounds. Lifting up his arm to view his side. She's methodical and clinical in her mannerisms, and you can tell that she and Nathander have done this before. Nothing she does interferes with his healing in the slightest.
Medicine to determine the nature of his wounds and best care procedures: 14.
Rathakk glowers at the man, but bit back a retort once Zylsys steps in to talk.
In through the nose... Out again....
Twice over the half-orc repeated the action alongside a silent mantra with eyes clenched tight, and hands occasionally flexing at his side. As soon as a semblance of calm settles over the young man, he quietly approaches the altar, but keeps in mind to give both elves plenty of breathing room to do their magic. During the interim he studies the man's injury as best as he could from a distance, drudging up every scrap of lore that might point to magical or natural inference.
History:18 (same bonus if Arcana is more applicable)
"Talk." He states flatly as he learned down at the man. "Places. Number. Goal. When... Where. Talk, quickly." Rathakk questions. While not the most pleasant way to go about things, he nevertheless hoped to distract the man from Zylsys plying of her trade.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Aki glances about, stares at the small group of people who gathered in the temple.
She had to admit: the response was pretty pitiful. Her eyes pour over the ragtag individuals rallied from the town square, the hodgepodge of hunters, wanderers, and old veterans crowded in the single room. Some were old, others far too young, with gear that seemed more fit for rabbits than the Fey. Heldren was far from a sizable town with iron-plated adventurers and elite spearman guards, and it showed.
This was going to be a slaughter.
Aki leans against a worn, wooden pew. Her arms twist over her chest, while her lips twist toward the ground. This is not your fight, a voice echoes in her head. Go home. And yet, she couldn't move. Something stuck to the soles of her feet, anchored her in-place as Zylsys and Rathakk spoke. She didn't like the rumor of the bandits meddling with the Fey; rather, she hated it. The feeling was far from something she'd die over, however.
She sighs as she sets aside the mystery, then looks up. "Answer the blunt-tongue. I'd like to know of this Lady Argentea Malassene as well. Who is she? Why would she be a valuable target to kidnap? Merely for coin, or is there something more?"
"I highly doubt the Fey have the same monetary goals as we do."
Ryn had wondered, once or twice when the half-orc had come into the Stoat if he actually was glowering at her or if his face had simply frozen in that expression, but the flat look she receives as she moves next to him and Aki answers that neatly in its clear unwelcomeness -- and its contrast to the look he gives Aki. Her chin lifts imperiously, but her half-formed demand for an explanation is cut off by the woman starting to speak again.
So it's somewhat disconcerting when the half-orc turns and basically orders her to follow him. Indignant, she meets his glower levelly, challenging, almost daring him to dismiss her or write her off.
She scowls at his back, appreciating neither the command nor the diss - and appreciating even less that now he's going to think she's obeying him if she does what she wanted to do anyway. Still, she's not stupid enough to cut off her nose to spite her face, so she does follow -- if only because it seems likely to be the only way for her to get any actual information about what is going on.
Still, it rankles, and for someone who'd had no issue with the half-orc ten minutes ago, she seems to have gathered a number of them in a short time.
The temple is quiet and the man is heavily marked. Curiously so, and she moves as close as she can without interfering with the healers, paying close attention to examining one of the larger patches as she keeps half an ear on the conversation.
The man groans in pain. "The men and women I traveled with were capable individuals as well. Until those blasted fey showed up."
Zylsys, your Medicine check lets you know that the many cuts across the man's body were likely caused by smaller-than-average slashing and piercing weapons. He also seems to be frostbitten on his fingers and nose.
Rathakk, your History check does not reveal much more about the nature of his injuries. He seems to be covered in mundane, if small, wounds, which are definitely indicative of the tiny weapons of the fey. Without more to go on, however, you do not get much more than that.
"We were attacked right at the lip of the Border Wood last night, just south of here. There were... a dozen or so bandits that attacked us, but I couldn't get a good number on the fey. They turn invisible until they attack you, so there could have been as few as three that kept weaving through the trees, or a great many more that took turns firing at us from stationary positions."
"Lady Argentea is a young noblewoman from Oppara. That is where we were headed when we were attacked, returning home from Zimar. If it were just bandits, I imagine she would be a valuable hostage, and I would expect a ransom note to be sent to Oppara demanding payment for her safe return. But with these winter-touched... who can tell?"
Noticing some raised eyebrows at the mention of "winter-touched", he continues.
"Ah. The winter-touched are fey creatures from the far northern country of Irrisen. They are fey who have pledged themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen. Legends say they have taken a sliver of ice into their hearts, and their touch bears the harsh bite of winter." He groans as he sits up to better see you all, much to the protest of Natharen. "Do not let their small stature fool you. They are fierce creatures. I was one of nine bodyguards in that caravan, and we never stood a chance against them. I did not mean to insult you earlier, I merely wish to express my... concern that such a small party may not be up to the job of rescuing and protecting Lady Argentea where nine trained soldiers failed."
Reign of Winter Groups A and B - DM
793.93 DUN
Her inventory completed, Zylsys placed her hands lightly on the worst of the man's wounds, praying in some lyrical celestial language. A white light emanates from her palms, and the smallest of the wounds close up instantly, while the larger ones scab over with an unnatural speed.
Zylsys casts Cure Wounds on the soldier to heal 6.
Her work completed, Zylsys grasps the soldiers shoulder. "We'll have surprise on our side, and we don't have to take on the whole camp to rescue a captive. Did you perchance see which way they went with the Lady Melassene?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"The old elf's right," Aki mutters under her breath. "I haven't heard of this 'tea lady' before. But if she's worth any amount of salt, she'd have guards worth ten sad excuses from any town around here, including Heldren. It would have to be in, then out." She finds a bit of dirt on her shoulder, flicks it away before looking up. "I'm not interested in bandit hunting. I have enough on my plate already."
"I have a feeling Tea Girl knows more about than she gives off though. Especially if the otherworldly is involved."
Her eyes watch as the light flashed from Zylsys' palms, followed by the man's wounds healing over. Aki grew up as a simple girl, with simple wants and a simple life. She knew little of the arcane or the divine. All she knew was if someone was speaking odd things to you, it was either a boon or a curse. Granted, there was a significant spectrum between the two, so it was hard to decide whether to begrudgingly thank someone or cut them in half, but it was something she could worry about after the fact.
The last time she saw that particular magic, however, it was used upon her after an attack from an owlbear.
She looks to Rathakk's expectant gaze and his crossed arms. The redhead sighs and runs a hand through her hair, beneath her hood the color of ash. This was all so stupid, she thinks to herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had a family to take care of. A little sister who just recently fell ill. She can't afford to go on some wild goose chase, searching for a noble who very well may be dead, against creatures who very well can't die.
On the other hand, she was a noble. A figure of high society and riches. If she saved her, she could easily pull Aki and her family out of poverty. Out of cold nights with nothing to eat. Out of hunting and crime. She could be an ordinary, everyday girl again. The thought made her throat go dry, put pressure on the backs of her eyes. She takes another deep breath in, then out.
"Okay," she says to Rathakk. "Okay. I'll come with you. But only to find the woman. That's it." She turns her gaze to Zylsys, still over the wounded man. "And I need some time. I have some... errands... to finish running." Her voice betrays a hint of a quiver.
"I also know a friend who can help us find our woman."
Stain scrubber. Outsider. New girl. "I have a name," She says, with a scowl. "And I certainly didn't come for the welcoming atmosphere." Desna's Star! The sailor's on the Yellowfin, while rough, crude and in need of a refresher course in hygiene, had had better manners than these two. She'd have left, if that didn't feel like admitting defeat, because it wasn't her problem, really, but the bit was between her teeth now.
Her gaze sharpens a little, measuring the other girl. The fact that she'd been injured in the bandit raid was well-known through town, but the extent of it, the lingering aches and twangs, she hadn't thought was that well known. Zylsys, certainly, and Kale and Menander, but she wasn't the type to complain about her sore ribs and determinedly walked with the same straight posture as always. And there was something tickling at the back of her mind that she couldn't quite put her finger on, something jarring about the way the girl had said 'the same monetary concerns as us' that niggled at her. "I'm hardly going to get home if the bandits get worse, am I? I've already been here longer than I wanted - and quite clearly longer than most of you wanted. I have a job to get back to, and it won't wait forever."
She stares back at him, arms crossed and raises a pointed eyebrow. She'll be damned if she's going to continue to put up with being treated like an enemy to someone she's never shared more than ten words with. "Yes? Did you want something? In case you were never taught you better, it's rude to stare."