Vardi notes the silence that follows her interjection and steps back with an amused smile on her face that does not reach her eyes. Skoggi does not take his eyes off the standing pair, but neither does he bristle in borrowed anger. The big lass gives Freya a wordless moment of thanks for that, glad that the leash in feline form that she keeps on her temper still holds fast.
Her expression does not change at Ser Almeric's words, nor does her silence.
What little pity she can summon is for Dochartaigh, and with that in mind she composes a neutral expression on her face, keeps her mouth shut (Even as she briefly regrets that she can't shut her nostrils.) then falls in with Sargeant Ori, keeping a wall of turned backs between the woebegone lad and his unhelpful companions.
The weariness Vardi feels creeping up on her wins out over her simmering anger at the injustice of it all, and the fact that the lass is still missing for all the hissing and growling done, so she quietly asks "Ser Ori, where can a woman park her bedroll hereabouts, afore she falls asleep on her feet like a horse?"
Whilst her words seem to have no effect on the other two, Dochartaigh meets her eyes and composes himself momentarily and gives a slight nod....though Famh cannot tell exactly which query or statement he is agreeing with.
Thatch moves up silently behind and to the side of the group as Sir Almeric puts on his show of force. One hand slips toward the hilt of his gladius as it looks like there will be a fight. But as the youngest guard falls to the floor weeping and Sir Almeric turns away, Thatch leans down to help the poor lad up to his feet. Why he couldn’t be much younger than Thatch was when he first set out from the stables. “Come now, mate. Let’s get you cleaned up. The good knight’s bark is worse than his bite tonight it seems.”Thatch leads the lad out of the mess on the floor and out toward the barrel outside to get cleaned up. “Though if you did see the lass they are talking about or anything on the way in you should tell them.”
With Famh and Thatchs kind voices seemingly allowing the boy to become a little more composed he is led out by Thatch, with Ori and Vardi closing off the rear as they follow Famh out, they note Cainneach waiting without having exchanged nods with Almeric on his way to Sheriff Brunn.
As the youngster began to wash himself, the two within began a furious whispered conversation and a contagious yawn circled around the companions.....the sun was rising higher and beds were beckoning.
( If enquiring within the manor there are five rooms put aside for the companions. Sir Almeric has one, the other four are up for grabs. )
Following Thatch and Dochartaig out, Famh hears the whispering begin within. Indicating Thatch with a tip of her hand, she says, "He's a kind man too, and very understanding about mortal frailty and how someone might get caught up in something they never meant to ... " Then, stifling another yawn, "Oh, but I do babble on when I'm tired. Ye'll be better off with our friend Thatch here anyway, at least until I can get some mair sense in my head.".
With that, she leans against the stable wall, just out of sight of the doorway, and closes her eyes ... but not her ears. Those are very busy seeing whether the whispers inside are furious enough for her to overhear any of them with her sharp faerie ears.
=========
(not sure if Perception or Investigation is more applicable here, Damian_May, so I'll give you both rolls and leave the choice to yourself as DM )
Perception 18
Investigation 7
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
With the tense confrontation having resolved for now, Cainneach is eager to speak with his friends to find out all they learned, but he notices Famh's closed eyes and the look of intense attention on her face. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder and back into the stable, the forester joins her in attempting to eavesdrop on the likely criminals. Salt waits patiently and obediently, though he will lick Famh's hand if they linger too long.
Perception18 (Cainneach listens and attempts to discreetly read lips if possible)
Whilst her words seem to have no effect on the other two, Dochartaigh meets her eyes and composes himself momentarily and gives a slight nod....though Famh cannot tell exactly which query or statement he is agreeing with.
Thatch moves up silently behind and to the side of the group as Sir Almeric puts on his show of force. One hand slips toward the hilt of his gladius as it looks like there will be a fight. But as the youngest guard falls to the floor weeping and Sir Almeric turns away, Thatch leans down to help the poor lad up to his feet. Why he couldn’t be much younger than Thatch was when he first set out from the stables. “Come now, mate. Let’s get you cleaned up. The good knight’s bark is worse than his bite tonight it seems.”Thatch leads the lad out of the mess on the floor and out toward the barrel outside to get cleaned up. “Though if you did see the lass they are talking about or anything on the way in you should tell them.”
With Famh and Thatchs kind voices seemingly allowing the boy to become a little more composed he is led out by Thatch, with Ori and Vardi closing off the rear as they follow Famh out, they note Cainneach waiting without having exchanged nods with Almeric on his way to Sheriff Brunn.
As the youngster began to wash himself, the two within began a furious whispered conversation and a contagious yawn circled around the companions.....the sun was rising higher and beds were beckoning.
( If enquiring within the manor there are five rooms put aside for the companions. Sir Almeric has one, the other four are up for grabs. )
Following Thatch and Dochartaig out, Famh hears the whispering begin within. Indicating Thatch with a tip of her hand, she says, "He's a kind man too, and very understanding about mortal frailty and how someone might get caught up in something they never meant to ... " Then, stifling another yawn, "Oh, but I do babble on when I'm tired. Ye'll be better off with our friend Thatch here anyway, at least until I can get some mair sense in my head.".
With that, she leans against the stable wall, just out of sight of the doorway, and closes her eyes ... but not her ears. Those are very busy seeing whether the whispers inside are furious enough for her to overhear any of them with her sharp faerie ears.
=========
(not sure if Perception or Investigation is more applicable here, Damian_May, so I'll give you both rolls and leave the choice to yourself as DM )
Perception 18
Investigation 7
Famh listens and is able to make some out but its hard to tell who's saying what.
" They were going to cut us down!"
" Never, there'd be hell to pay.....still, he's probably cut down a mess of Ta'ashim...perhaps he's a taste for it."
" They don't know anything. We keep quiet and it'll all blow over..."
With the tense confrontation having resolved for now, Cainneach is eager to speak with his friends to find out all they learned, but he notices Famh's closed eyes and the look of intense attention on her face. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder and back into the stable, the forester joins her in attempting to eavesdrop on the likely criminals. Salt waits patiently and obediently, though he will lick Famh's hand if they linger too long.
Perception12 (Cainneach listens and attempts to discreetly read lips if possible)
Cainneach attempts to listen in but both men are turned away from him currently and the proximity to Famh might be slightly distracting as he can make nothing out.
Just as the voices of the two within quieten beyond the reach of Famh's hearing, she feels a warm, wet tongue gently lick her hand and realizes who is by her. She reaches down to scratch Salt between his ears as she slowly opens her eyes to gaze into Cainneach's. Then she puts her fingers to his lips and draws him a little ways from the door. Bending to his ear, she murmurs quietly, "They were there, all right. But we're still na sure exactly whit happened, and at least one o' the twa in there seems tae think neither o' them bears the wyte o't. I dinna ken whit ye saw or heard just now, but this is whit I could make oot." In a few words, she fills him in on the rest of what she heard; then she sighs wistfully.
"And when we're finished here, our good Sergeant Orihas been instructed tae let us have a nice long rest. E'en nicer if we were already married, o'course; but I dinnae think anyone will grudge us a goodnight kiss, at least, when we do gae to our beds. E'en if it is the middle o' the mornin'." She chuckles suddenly as she gives Salt another ear rub. "'I'm afraid we wonae be sharing a room either, Salt, unless there's enough for Vardi tae have her own. Or unless ye and Skoggivardi can work something oot.""
Vardi, in her weariness and attention on Ori, does not notice the weight from her shoulders slip down and over towards the lad so undone in fear that even a kitten could knock them over. Skoggi, soft-footed in stealth, sits near the little man of great heart and the washing lad in his woe, and begins washing his paws with a surprisingly dainty air for so large a cat.
Though his most regal nostrils must surely be aware of the pungent scent of one sure sign of trouble, Skuggavardi seems more curious about the all-pervading stench of fear that underlies it, and even a cat might know a little pity for their prey if it cowered so abjectly before them. A gentle sound of purring can be heard in between licks and odd rasping sounds as the Forest Cat rids himself of cockleburs and mud, a comforting noise akin to a hive of contented bees on a summer's day.
The big lass looks over to Famh at the mention of her cat, and offers in reassurance "He's nay hound-shy, but he's nay hound-sharp either..." then stops short as she notices his absence from his lofty perch on her shoulders stops and looks about for him.
"Daft beast..." she mutters with a surprised smile when she lays eyes on him, and the company he's keeping, then looks back to Famh as she explains "...Still, he has more sense than me when it comes ta dealing wi' folk in fear of their lives. Long as Salt nay backs him inta a corner, there'll be nay cause for quarrel twixt them both."
The warrior woman smiles, a teasing glint in her eye as she suggests "If ye are afeared for tha safety of yer four-footed friend, Mistress Famh, then I will sleep in tha corridor wi' tha cause of yer concern, and Salt can be left in peace ta keep tha mice from nibbling yer toes if ye wish?"
Ori claps the young man on the back. "Ey, you see there, don't mind the the Sir gruff being. We are all a bit road wary and need of a good..." Looking at the result of the youngest of the three men" ...wash and recharging. Be good lads well be seeing ya." As Ori walks away and bends down to retrieve his spiked greatclub, he hears Almeric's words and nods. He leans back to Vardi "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too." After walking out side and standing next to Cainneach, without looking at the ranger he says, "Get a good read on them, if they have any smarts between the 3 of them, they will ride off whike we sleep and we will be back following their hoof prints again. Guilty or not, after that display, well hell I'd probably skip town too." Ori will start the sleepy march back to the bed Almeric promised.
Just as the voices of the two within quieten beyond the reach of Famh's hearing, she feels a warm, wet tongue gently lick her hand and realizes who is by her. She reaches down to scratch Salt between his ears as she slowly opens her eyes to gaze into Cainneach's. Then she puts her fingers to his lips and draws him a little ways from the door. Bending to his ear, she murmurs quietly, "They were there, all right. But we're still na sure exactly whit happened, and at least one o' the twa in there seems tae think neither o' them bears the wyte o't. I dinna ken whit ye saw or heard just now, but this is whit I could make oot." In a few words, she fills him in on the rest of what she heard; then she sighs wistfully.
"And when we're finished here, our good Sergeant Orihas been instructed tae let us have a nice long rest. E'en nicer if we were already married, o'course; but I dinnae think anyone will grudge us a goodnight kiss, at least, when we do gae to our beds. E'en if it is the middle o' the mornin'." She chuckles suddenly as she gives Salt another ear rub. "'I'm afraid we wonae be sharing a room either, Salt, unless there's enough for Vardi tae have her own. Or unless ye and Skoggivardi can work something oot.""
Cainneach sighs as Famh draws close and brushes her fingers across his lips and neck. In his weariness, he nearly forgets himself and takes her in a full embrace with an aim to plant a loving kiss on her perfect lips, but fortunately for their collective dignity, he notices the rest of the party and refrains for the time being. The forester is concerned by her quiet recounting of what transpired with the three ne'er-do-wells, but is glad at least some progress had been made in solving their current mystery. He murmurs back into her ear, "Thank you for your bravery and good judgement with those lads. I trust we'll yet find justice for the poor old man and his daughter. I'm just glad that Almeric didn't slay them where they stood! That look when he cradles that drum is frightful." Memories of their ride aboard that ship of the dead fill Cainneach's mind, his eyes lower and brow furrows. Catching a glimpse of the young, soiled, would-be watchmen, he shakes his head and admires Thatch's kindness.
The warrior woman smiles, a teasing glint in her eye as she suggests "If ye are afeared for tha safety of yer four-footed friend, Mistress Famh, then I will sleep in tha corridor wi' tha cause of yer concern, and Salt can be left in peace ta keep tha mice from nibbling yer toes if ye wish?"
"Many pardons, Vardi, but this disloyal hound belongs to me, a gift from the good Baron Aldred. I know it's hard to believe, given his affection for our friend Famh here. I guess Salt and I have both fallen under her spell, so to speak! Don't worry, I'll take this fellow for the night. We can share a room with Thatch or Ori. And Famh, don't let that giant cat smother you in your sleep!" He gives a Vardi a stern look, then breaks into a big smile and winks at her.
Ori claps the young man on the back. "Ey, you see there, don't mind the the Sir gruff being. We are all a bit road wary and need of a good..." Looking at the result of the youngest of the three men" ...wash and recharging. Be good lads well be seeing ya." As Ori walks away and bends down to retrieve his spiked greatclub, he hears Almeric's words and nods. He leans back to Vardi "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too." After walking out side and standing next to Cainneach, without looking at the ranger he says, "Get a good read on them, if they have any smarts between the 3 of them, they will ride off whike we sleep and we will be back following their hoof prints again. Guilty or not, after that display, well hell I'd probably skip town too." Ori will start the sleepy march back to the bed Almeric promised.
Cainneach nods his head a few times, thinking while Ori speaks. "I'll take a pass, see what I can of their boots, their horses and hooves. Hopefully will make it easier to track them in the future." He takes Salt with him into the stable after looking the youngest of their quarry over thoroughly.
"Oh, hello there, lads. Just looking for a place to clean up my hound here. Didn't realize this wasn't quite a stable at the moment. Nice place, though."Cainneach looks around a few times, making sure to get a good look at the two of them, then heads off to where their horses are located to see if anything noteworthy can be observed. He mutters to himself and to his hound, "We'll get some sleep at some point, Salt, but our friends need our skills. Take some good sniffs of those fellas and their horses." Finally, his mission complete, they head to their quarters to get some sleep.
Cainneach sighs as Famh draws close and brushes her fingers across his lips and neck. In his weariness, he nearly forgets himself and takes her in a full embrace with an aim to plant a loving kiss on her perfect lips, but fortunately for their collective dignity, he notices the rest of the party and refrains for the time being. The forester is concerned by her quiet recounting of what transpired with the three ne'er-do-wells, but is glad at least some progress had been made in solving their current mystery. He murmurs back into her ear, "Thank you for your bravery and good judgement with those lads. I trust we'll yet find justice for the poor old man and his daughter. I'm just glad that Almeric didn't slay them where they stood! That look when he cradles that drum is frightful." Memories of their ride aboard that ship of the dead fill Cainneach's mind, his eyes lower and brow furrows. Catching a glimpse of the young, soiled, would-be watchmen, he shakes his head and admires Thatch's kindness.
The warrior woman smiles, a teasing glint in her eye as she suggests "If ye are afeared for tha safety of yer four-footed friend, Mistress Famh, then I will sleep in tha corridor wi' tha cause of yer concern, and Salt can be left in peace ta keep tha mice from nibbling yer toes if ye wish?"
"Many pardons, Vardi, but this disloyal hound belongs to me, a gift from the good Baron Aldred. I know it's hard to believe, given his affection for our friend Famh here. I guess Salt and I have both fallen under her spell, so to speak! Don't worry, I'll take this fellow for the night. We can share a room with Thatch or Ori. And Famh, don't let that giant cat smother you in your sleep!" He gives a Vardi a stern look, then breaks into a big smile and winks at her.
...
Famh giggles merrily. "Och, I was but teasing ye all! I wasn't really meaning to steal Salt from you, 'neach ghraid. This time, anyway." She winks teasingly. "And to tell truth, Vardi, a cat was my very first friend and companion when I was wee; so I've been wanting to get to know Skoggi a little better some time now. It's only he's so ... dignified!" Her eyes open slightly wider, as if she'd been thinking something else and was herself a little surprised at the word she'd chosen to describe the Forest Cat. After a moment of thought, though, she nods. "Aye, it's no so much his size, though that's impressive too; it's his presence. I'd as soon think of taking liberties wi' Baron Aldred as wi' him."
Ori claps the young man on the back. "Ey, you see there, don't mind the the Sir gruff being. We are all a bit road wary and need of a good..." Looking at the result of the youngest of the three men" ...wash and recharging. Be good lads well be seeing ya." As Ori walks away and bends down to retrieve his spiked greatclub, he hears Almeric's words and nods. He leans back to Vardi "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too." After walking out side and standing next to Cainneach, without looking at the ranger he says, "Get a good read on them, if they have any smarts between the 3 of them, they will ride off whike we sleep and we will be back following their hoof prints again. Guilty or not, after that display, well hell I'd probably skip town too." Ori will start the sleepy march back to the bed Almeric promised.
Falling in behind Orias the retinue makes its way back to the manor house, Famh whispers to him, "I'm still no sure if they're guilty or not, but from what I heard the two inside saying while Thatch was cleaning the other up they ken mair than they're lettin' on. That was well thought to have Cainneach take another keek at their shoon; I'm no sure I wouldn't flee myself if I were in their place. When ye report a' this to Sir Almeric, tell him this is what they whispered between them when they thought they were alone." She checks to be sure the retinue has gotten out of earshot of the young men she is discussing, and then repeats their words as precisely as she can remember. (INT roll 18 to accurately remember and reproduce words and the 'affect' {as its called} ... basically how something is said as opposed to what is said)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Cainneachs keen eyes make note of the mens boots and as the others make their way back to the manor for the day and afternoon, he slips into the new stables near the gate and with curt nods to the stable boys and farriers makes a good inspection of the four palfrey's they rode in on.
The companions rest for the day and rouse in the evening where they are greeted with the evening meal in the great hall consisting mostly of mutton pies and buttered turnips, leeks and parsnips with brannock on the side. A cask of ale and a cask of mead were placed on the table as well.
Almeric considered what he had heard from the Sheriff as he ate with the companions at the communal tables, Sheriff Brunn seemed in no particular hurry to hustle them out the door in his estimation those who had been lost up north would be no more dead tomorrow than they were yesterday, a lot of the older huskarls and guards nodded to the companions as they passed as rumours and stories of who they were and their past deeds, mostly inferred or made up whole cloth at this point, spread through the outpost.
The four youngsters sat as far from the group as they were able amongst other younger men who were either local loads or who had been sent up earlier in the season.
The companions were left to themselves to talk and plan their evening departure or stay.
Ori: "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too."
Vardi looks most relieved at this knowledge, and a flicker of a smile crosses her face in unspoken response.
Cainneach:"Many pardons, Vardi, but this disloyal hound belongs to me, a gift from the good Baron Aldred. I know it's hard to believe, given his affection for our friend Famh here. I guess Salt and I have both fallen under her spell, so to speak! Don't worry, I'll take this fellow for the night. We can share a room with Thatch or Ori. And Famh, don't let that giant cat smother you in your sleep!"
"Nay offense taken, Cainneach, but I doubt Salt is disloyal." the big lass replies, amiable in tone, then offers in fairness "A wise hound knows their master's mind, even if they can nay speak of it."
Famh: "...And to tell truth, Vardi, a cat was my very first friend and companion when I was wee; so I've been wanting to get to know Skoggi a little better some time now. It's only he's so ... dignified! Aye, it's no so much his size, though that's impressive too; it's his presence. I'd as soon think of taking liberties wi' Baron Aldred as wi' him."
"I am right glad ta hear tha' Famh," Vardi replies cheerfully then raises a finger for emphasis as she adds "He is nay always as dignified as he aspires ta be. I should warn ye tha' there's tha rascal of a kitten tha' I remember somewhere under all tha' fur and fine manners, but for all tha' he is good wi' little 'uns and a gentleman ta tha ladies. Just dinnay leave cheese out around him. Tha mice won't stand a chance."
The Lyften lass waits for Skoggi to finish his ablutions then leans down as he leaps up onto her shoulders again, taking care not to disturb the lad nearby by looming over him suddenly. The lordly feline still purrs as she follows the others to a place of sleep before she emulates the horse of her earlier jest.
Later...
In the midst of the hall, Vardi, while apparently in search of her cat passes the musing Ser Almeric and murmurs "Whoever put the fear in that lad got ta them afore we did." then in louder voice says "There you are!"as she picks up Skoggi from beside her.
"I do hope he was nay pestering ye fer scaps, Ser." she explains in some embarrassment "He has been fed, and before any of us ate too!" then in an undertone "I dinnay know who did, but it stuck fast." before she sits back down.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Thatch pats the youngest guard on the back as he finishes cleaning himself at the water barrel. “Think on my words, don’t let those others lead you in trouble you have no part in. You will find me willing to listen.” Persuasion. 11.
.Thatch leaves the wet and still slightly soiled guardsman behind as he hurries to catch up with the others toward the manor house. “I will bunk with you and Ori, Cainneach. I can barely drag myself to the room, though the sky says we should be getting up, not going abed.” Thatch scratches Salt behind the ears as he comes up to them and stifles a yawn with his other hand.
Cainneachs keen eyes make note of the mens boots and as the others make their way back to the manor for the day and afternoon, he slips into the new stables near the gate and with curt nods to the stable boys and farriers makes a good inspection of the four palfrey's they rode in on.
The companions rest for the day and rouse in the evening where they are greeted with the evening meal in the great hall consisting mostly of mutton pies and buttered turnips, leeks and parsnips with brannock on the side. A cask of ale and a cask of mead were placed on the table as well.
Almeric considered what he had heard from the Sheriff as he ate with the companions at the communal tables, Sheriff Brunn seemed in no particular hurry to hustle them out the door in his estimation those who had been lost up north would be no more dead tomorrow than they were yesterday, a lot of the older huskarls and guards nodded to the companions as they passed as rumours and stories of who they were and their past deeds, mostly inferred or made up whole cloth at this point, spread through the outpost.
The four youngsters sat as far from the group as they were able amongst other younger men who were either local loads or who had been sent up earlier in the season.
The companions were left to themselves to talk and plan their evening departure or stay.
Cainneach's sleep during the day was halting, broken by haunting dreams of girls in wells, Famh among them. He was able to remember these scenes thanks to the frequent stirrings caused by his sensitivity to the unnatural noises of the town while trying to sleep during the unnatural hours of daylight. Thus, Cainneach awoke for the evening repast only slightly less weary than when they arrived in town, and immediately more disoriented. After shaking off the state caused by the last several unpleasant hours' rest, he confers with Thatch and Ori regarding the details he picked up from his quick reconnoiter of the watchmen. Hopefully, between the three of them, this knowledge would persist if they didn't find themselves back on their trail for some period of time. In general, though, Cainneach was fairly confident that he and Salt would be able to identify and follow them this time.
At dinner, Cainneach is reluctant to shift their travel to night time. Between his weariness and the inherent difficulties of tracking, defending, and attacking at night, he offers that while there may be advantages to doing so, there are certainly disadvantages as well. The forester will, however, go along with whatever the party agrees upon.
Thatch yawns as he sits at the table, still bleary eyed, but rested. He attacks a mutton pie and listens intently as Cainneach shares what he learned from his investigation earlier this morning. Nodding along with interest as he shares a relevant detail or bit of gossip. He throws a sideways glance at the four youth occasionally, but tries to do it discreetly to not be noticed watching them. He turns to Sir Almeric “Begging your pardon, sir. But you said we were to head north soon. Any word on what we are looking for yet? And what about the poor lass we couldn’t find, are we just to leave her?”
Thatch yawns as he sits at the table, still bleary eyed, but rested. He attacks a mutton pie and listens intently as Cainneach shares what he learned from his investigation earlier this morning. Nodding along with interest as he shares a relevant detail or bit of gossip. He throws a sideways glance at the four youth occasionally, but tries to do it discreetly to not be noticed watching them. He turns to Sir Almeric “Begging your pardon, sir. But you said we were to head north soon. Any word on what we are looking for yet? And what about the poor lass we couldn’t find, are we just to leave her?”
Almeric considers strategy while prompted by Thatch to arrive at a decision.
"North is where the disturbances occurred. This is our primary mission, given us by the Duke. Two days hence, where the road turns into a deer path, the is a hillsteader called Rory Mor who lives on a broch. He knows more of this. Everything points towards the unusual, a beastie or a bogie maybe. This does not fit the behaviours of Reivers. Never fear Huntsman, we have dealt with worse and survived. We will prevail, guided by Relics, Faith, Skill and Steel. You skill with the bow will be very useful.
Almeric addresses all the Retinue by their proposed or expected title, to be confirmed when they return to Gorham. Thatch will be a Huntsman, a master of horse and a hunter. Cainneach is a Forester, a Gamekeeper, hunter and enforcer of the natural flora and fauna. Ori is their Sergeant-at-Arms and the new Retinue deputy. Vardi, should she choose to accompany them, is too good to a simple 'Woman-at-Arms'? Tana is a Herbalist, creating potions, balms and poultices among other things. Then their was Famh, who defies categorisation, a Seer, Witch, whatever she chose to be...
The disappearance of Morag is disturbing, but not part of our primary mission. If the lads run, they declare their guilt and we would hunt them down like dogs chasing a fox. They must remain here until spring if they wish to maintain their innocence. We can wait till our return, to deal with them fully. Never fear Huntsman, Justice will be met!"
Almeric considers their tactics and opens the conversation up to everyone.
"We could remain here until dawn, resting as best we can, returning to day time operations. Travel during the day is safer, tracking is easier, but we lose a day in our mission. If we leave now, we could maintain nocturnal operations. This is more difficult, slower and more hazardous. My night vision is good and I can lead us through the night, taking on any hazards that present themselves. A third option would be to leave now, march through the night and all day tomorrow then rest. We risk exhaustion again but would return to daytime operations tomorrow. This is the fastest option, and we might reach Rory Mor's Hillstead by tomorrow, but also risk encountering nocturnal predators. Thoughts?"
Almeric suddenly realised the Shield Maiden might not be familiar or comfortable with their progressive style of operations. Ah Vardi, we always discuss tactics openly and usually reach a consensus before proceeding, unless there are matters of life or death concerned. Feel free to speak,"
A sad and troubled look comes into Famh's eyes at Sir Almeric's words concerning the missing lass, but after a moment she nods in assent. She sighs. "Ye're right. I suppose --- well, I suppose was hoping against hope that there was some hope we'd find her yet alive if we were only quick enow. And if there's a beast ravaging the country, o' course our duty is to take care of that first."
"As far as thoughts about that hunt go, most bogies and beasties in the auld tales tend to come out at night. Traveling then, we'd be mair likely to come across whatever we seek out and about instead o' having to hunt it down in its lair where they say a cornered beast is most dangerous. And now we're rested. At the least we should leave this e'en and get a start, and then next morn decide whether to carry on to Rory Mor's steading."
Almeric addresses all the Retinue by their proposed or expected title, to be confirmed when they return to Gorham. Thatch will be a Huntsman, a master of horse and a hunter. Cainneach is a Forester, a Gamekeeper, hunter and enforcer of the natural flora and fauna. Ori is their Sergeant-at-Arms and the new Retinue deputy. Vardi, should she choose to accompany them, is too good to a simple 'Woman-at-Arms'? Tana is a Herbalist, creating potions, balms and poultices among other things. Then their was Famh, who defies categorisation, a Seer, Witch, whatever she chose to be...
Famh smiles after her sadness, if a little diffidently. The idea of herself as someone with a title and role is a rather new and pleasant thought to her. "Well, I don't quite know what to call myself! I seem to weave together all these threads ... old stories, things the faeries tell me, clews and threads of all sorts --- Lorekeeper, maybe? No quite sure what the proper word would be. I'd be more than your storyteller, but without book learning 'scholar' doesna quite fit either. Or maybe a title from the Old Speech would work best...'filidh'?" She blushes briefly, then winks. "The lowest order to start of course, and even then I'd be rising a wee bit above the rank I was born to, but I'm learning to bear myself better in society so it might be possible."
(OOC: I am pretty sure that Cainneach already has the title of Forester, as he has served in that capacity for Baron Aldred and the Dayne household. Also, he most definitely does not wish to be addressed by that title. Cainneach will do just fine, thanks.)
"I've already made concerns my about travelling at night known. I should add one other danger I was warned of by a local veteran of the watch. He told me to beware of the wee lights dancing in the moorlands along the ridgeline. No further elaboration, but I imagine they are the tricks of some cruel temptation."
Vardi takes a generous portion of buttered vegetables along with the mutton pie, and sneaks a second bannock under the first one, along with a mug of mead. For all the dark thoughts and dire forbodings adrift in her head on the fate of Morag Cowherder, now her stomach is less concerned with forbodings and more with doing something more practical about them without falling over for lack of food in the process.
The fact it gives her hands something to do other than twitch in suppressed frustration helps, and keeps her mouth full and her ears and eyes free to absorb what goes on while she eats is a gift beyond hospitality, and at least one she can compliment with good appetite as a guest. The warrior woman sips the mead, enjoying its flavor in favor of a clear head to think on what she learns. Skoggi sits on her lap, apparently curled up asleep but with one ear poking up from the mass of purring gentleman that says otherwise.
Almeric: Ah Vardi, we always discuss tactics openly and usually reach a consensus before proceeding, unless there are matters of life or death concerned. Feel free to speak,"
The big lass looks up at the mention of her name, and she nods as she answers "Aye..." then stops as habit brings a "Ser" to her tongue to go with it, which she is not sure is quite the fashion for irregulars such as Almeric's troop. She recovers by adding "I will if I think of anything tha' might be of use, other than tha' I'd rather face trouble well rested than falling over from lack of sleep, given a choice about it."and sips her mead a moment.
Fahm: "Well, I don't quite know what to call myself! I seem to weave together all these threads ... old stories, things the faeries tell me, clews and threads of all sorts --- Lorekeeper, maybe? No quite sure what the proper word would be. I'd be more than your storyteller, but without book learning 'scholar' doesna quite fit either. Or maybe a title from the Old Speech would work best...'filidh'?" She blushes briefly, then winks. "The lowest order to start of course, and even then I'd be rising a wee bit above the rank I was born to, but I'm learning to bear myself better in society so it might be possible."
At Famh's suggestion, indeed her aspiration to be one of those for whom a place is always kept by the fire by those who value knowledge, Vardi nods silently but solemnly, in serious recognition of a fitting descriptor of the quick woman's sharp wits as well as a worthy ambition for a scholar of life nay the library.
When others have spoken their own minds on the matter of a hunt by night, Vardi offers three thoughts, namely "We will need a favorable moon, and no clouds at tha very least if we are ta travel wi'out torch or lantern by night. If wha' we seek fears fire then torches would be useful even if they're kept in reserve 'til needed. If ye think torches would give us away and warn tha quarry, then a hooded lantern may be yer best bet for light tha can be hid quick like."
She looks a little hesitant as she adds quietly "If the missing lass, Morag, is nay missing on account of those three, ah, four lads yonder, but she has come ta harm down the well..." then rapidly, as if she will lose her nerve to speak otherwise she explains "I wonder if maybe she'll wash up miles away from where she was last seen. I nay know how far the water runs from the well Famh found her embroidered finery in, nor where it emerges above ground, if it does, or even if tha' is what became of her. Someone tried ta polaxe tha bull tha is head o tha herd, and tha most likely person ta try ta stop 'em, whoever they be, is missing."
Vardi spreads her hands in acceptance but also warning as she concludes "I understand tha is nay our mission at tha moment, nay unless any of tha foxes run afore Spring, but I am nay sure if it is nay a fox ta blame so much as another beast hiding behind them."
OOC: Vardi, thinking on bogies by night and Cainneach's mention of wandering lights as well, makes an Arcana check (Total of 9.) and History check (Total of 13.) for any local tales she may have heard since leaving the Lyften Islands that may be useful.
Vardi can recall little but some vague recollections of tales of corpse-lights and St Elmos fire but is unsure whether they are the same thing or even relevant to Cainneachs tale. Looking to the sky and its skudding clouds earlier in the day she thinks it unlikely there will be much moonlight tonight.
With opinions seemingly balanced on travel options, eyes turned to Ori to speak his piece.....
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Vardi notes the silence that follows her interjection and steps back with an amused smile on her face that does not reach her eyes. Skoggi does not take his eyes off the standing pair, but neither does he bristle in borrowed anger. The big lass gives Freya a wordless moment of thanks for that, glad that the leash in feline form that she keeps on her temper still holds fast.
Her expression does not change at Ser Almeric's words, nor does her silence.
What little pity she can summon is for Dochartaigh, and with that in mind she composes a neutral expression on her face, keeps her mouth shut (Even as she briefly regrets that she can't shut her nostrils.) then falls in with Sargeant Ori, keeping a wall of turned backs between the woebegone lad and his unhelpful companions.
The weariness Vardi feels creeping up on her wins out over her simmering anger at the injustice of it all, and the fact that the lass is still missing for all the hissing and growling done, so she quietly asks "Ser Ori, where can a woman park her bedroll hereabouts, afore she falls asleep on her feet like a horse?"
Following Thatch and Dochartaig out, Famh hears the whispering begin within. Indicating Thatch with a tip of her hand, she says, "He's a kind man too, and very understanding about mortal frailty and how someone might get caught up in something they never meant to ... " Then, stifling another yawn, "Oh, but I do babble on when I'm tired. Ye'll be better off with our friend Thatch here anyway, at least until I can get some mair sense in my head.".
With that, she leans against the stable wall, just out of sight of the doorway, and closes her eyes ... but not her ears. Those are very busy seeing whether the whispers inside are furious enough for her to overhear any of them with her sharp faerie ears.
=========
(not sure if Perception or Investigation is more applicable here, Damian_May, so I'll give you both rolls and leave the choice to yourself as DM )
Perception 18
Investigation 7
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
With the tense confrontation having resolved for now, Cainneach is eager to speak with his friends to find out all they learned, but he notices Famh's closed eyes and the look of intense attention on her face. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder and back into the stable, the forester joins her in attempting to eavesdrop on the likely criminals. Salt waits patiently and obediently, though he will lick Famh's hand if they linger too long.
Perception 18 (Cainneach listens and attempts to discreetly read lips if possible)
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Famh listens and is able to make some out but its hard to tell who's saying what.
" They were going to cut us down!"
" Never, there'd be hell to pay.....still, he's probably cut down a mess of Ta'ashim...perhaps he's a taste for it."
" They don't know anything. We keep quiet and it'll all blow over..."
" Wasn't my fault anyway. Your's neither."
Cainneach attempts to listen in but both men are turned away from him currently and the proximity to Famh might be slightly distracting as he can make nothing out.
Just as the voices of the two within quieten beyond the reach of Famh's hearing, she feels a warm, wet tongue gently lick her hand and realizes who is by her. She reaches down to scratch Salt between his ears as she slowly opens her eyes to gaze into Cainneach's. Then she puts her fingers to his lips and draws him a little ways from the door. Bending to his ear, she murmurs quietly, "They were there, all right. But we're still na sure exactly whit happened, and at least one o' the twa in there seems tae think neither o' them bears the wyte o't. I dinna ken whit ye saw or heard just now, but this is whit I could make oot." In a few words, she fills him in on the rest of what she heard; then she sighs wistfully.
"And when we're finished here, our good Sergeant Ori has been instructed tae let us have a nice long rest. E'en nicer if we were already married, o'course; but I dinnae think anyone will grudge us a goodnight kiss, at least, when we do gae to our beds. E'en if it is the middle o' the mornin'." She chuckles suddenly as she gives Salt another ear rub. "'I'm afraid we wonae be sharing a room either, Salt, unless there's enough for Vardi tae have her own. Or unless ye and Skoggivardi can work something oot.""
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Vardi, in her weariness and attention on Ori, does not notice the weight from her shoulders slip down and over towards the lad so undone in fear that even a kitten could knock them over. Skoggi, soft-footed in stealth, sits near the little man of great heart and the washing lad in his woe, and begins washing his paws with a surprisingly dainty air for so large a cat.
Though his most regal nostrils must surely be aware of the pungent scent of one sure sign of trouble, Skuggavardi seems more curious about the all-pervading stench of fear that underlies it, and even a cat might know a little pity for their prey if it cowered so abjectly before them. A gentle sound of purring can be heard in between licks and odd rasping sounds as the Forest Cat rids himself of cockleburs and mud, a comforting noise akin to a hive of contented bees on a summer's day.
The big lass looks over to Famh at the mention of her cat, and offers in reassurance "He's nay hound-shy, but he's nay hound-sharp either..." then stops short as she notices his absence from his lofty perch on her shoulders stops and looks about for him.
"Daft beast..." she mutters with a surprised smile when she lays eyes on him, and the company he's keeping, then looks back to Famh as she explains "...Still, he has more sense than me when it comes ta dealing wi' folk in fear of their lives. Long as Salt nay backs him inta a corner, there'll be nay cause for quarrel twixt them both."
The warrior woman smiles, a teasing glint in her eye as she suggests "If ye are afeared for tha safety of yer four-footed friend, Mistress Famh, then I will sleep in tha corridor wi' tha cause of yer concern, and Salt can be left in peace ta keep tha mice from nibbling yer toes if ye wish?"
Ori claps the young man on the back. "Ey, you see there, don't mind the the Sir gruff being. We are all a bit road wary and need of a good..." Looking at the result of the youngest of the three men" ...wash and recharging. Be good lads well be seeing ya." As Ori walks away and bends down to retrieve his spiked greatclub, he hears Almeric's words and nods. He leans back to Vardi "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too." After walking out side and standing next to Cainneach, without looking at the ranger he says, "Get a good read on them, if they have any smarts between the 3 of them, they will ride off whike we sleep and we will be back following their hoof prints again. Guilty or not, after that display, well hell I'd probably skip town too." Ori will start the sleepy march back to the bed Almeric promised.
Cainneach sighs as Famh draws close and brushes her fingers across his lips and neck. In his weariness, he nearly forgets himself and takes her in a full embrace with an aim to plant a loving kiss on her perfect lips, but fortunately for their collective dignity, he notices the rest of the party and refrains for the time being. The forester is concerned by her quiet recounting of what transpired with the three ne'er-do-wells, but is glad at least some progress had been made in solving their current mystery. He murmurs back into her ear, "Thank you for your bravery and good judgement with those lads. I trust we'll yet find justice for the poor old man and his daughter. I'm just glad that Almeric didn't slay them where they stood! That look when he cradles that drum is frightful." Memories of their ride aboard that ship of the dead fill Cainneach's mind, his eyes lower and brow furrows. Catching a glimpse of the young, soiled, would-be watchmen, he shakes his head and admires Thatch's kindness.
"Many pardons, Vardi, but this disloyal hound belongs to me, a gift from the good Baron Aldred. I know it's hard to believe, given his affection for our friend Famh here. I guess Salt and I have both fallen under her spell, so to speak! Don't worry, I'll take this fellow for the night. We can share a room with Thatch or Ori. And Famh, don't let that giant cat smother you in your sleep!" He gives a Vardi a stern look, then breaks into a big smile and winks at her.
Cainneach nods his head a few times, thinking while Ori speaks. "I'll take a pass, see what I can of their boots, their horses and hooves. Hopefully will make it easier to track them in the future." He takes Salt with him into the stable after looking the youngest of their quarry over thoroughly.
"Oh, hello there, lads. Just looking for a place to clean up my hound here. Didn't realize this wasn't quite a stable at the moment. Nice place, though." Cainneach looks around a few times, making sure to get a good look at the two of them, then heads off to where their horses are located to see if anything noteworthy can be observed. He mutters to himself and to his hound, "We'll get some sleep at some point, Salt, but our friends need our skills. Take some good sniffs of those fellas and their horses." Finally, his mission complete, they head to their quarters to get some sleep.
(ROLL-O-RAMA!)
Deception 19 (Cainneach's a smooth operator)
Stealth 26
Perception 23 (Cainneach's very observant)
Survival 23
Investigation 8
Perception 21 (Salt's super sniffer)
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Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Cainneachs keen eyes make note of the mens boots and as the others make their way back to the manor for the day and afternoon, he slips into the new stables near the gate and with curt nods to the stable boys and farriers makes a good inspection of the four palfrey's they rode in on.
The companions rest for the day and rouse in the evening where they are greeted with the evening meal in the great hall consisting mostly of mutton pies and buttered turnips, leeks and parsnips with brannock on the side. A cask of ale and a cask of mead were placed on the table as well.
Almeric considered what he had heard from the Sheriff as he ate with the companions at the communal tables, Sheriff Brunn seemed in no particular hurry to hustle them out the door in his estimation those who had been lost up north would be no more dead tomorrow than they were yesterday, a lot of the older huskarls and guards nodded to the companions as they passed as rumours and stories of who they were and their past deeds, mostly inferred or made up whole cloth at this point, spread through the outpost.
The four youngsters sat as far from the group as they were able amongst other younger men who were either local loads or who had been sent up earlier in the season.
The companions were left to themselves to talk and plan their evening departure or stay.
Ori: "Sounds like our good Sir secured us a few stables to retreat too."
Vardi looks most relieved at this knowledge, and a flicker of a smile crosses her face in unspoken response.
Cainneach: "Many pardons, Vardi, but this disloyal hound belongs to me, a gift from the good Baron Aldred. I know it's hard to believe, given his affection for our friend Famh here. I guess Salt and I have both fallen under her spell, so to speak! Don't worry, I'll take this fellow for the night. We can share a room with Thatch or Ori. And Famh, don't let that giant cat smother you in your sleep!"
"Nay offense taken, Cainneach, but I doubt Salt is disloyal." the big lass replies, amiable in tone, then offers in fairness "A wise hound knows their master's mind, even if they can nay speak of it."
Famh: "...And to tell truth, Vardi, a cat was my very first friend and companion when I was wee; so I've been wanting to get to know Skoggi a little better some time now. It's only he's so ... dignified! Aye, it's no so much his size, though that's impressive too; it's his presence. I'd as soon think of taking liberties wi' Baron Aldred as wi' him."
"I am right glad ta hear tha' Famh," Vardi replies cheerfully then raises a finger for emphasis as she adds "He is nay always as dignified as he aspires ta be. I should warn ye tha' there's tha rascal of a kitten tha' I remember somewhere under all tha' fur and fine manners, but for all tha' he is good wi' little 'uns and a gentleman ta tha ladies. Just dinnay leave cheese out around him. Tha mice won't stand a chance."
The Lyften lass waits for Skoggi to finish his ablutions then leans down as he leaps up onto her shoulders again, taking care not to disturb the lad nearby by looming over him suddenly. The lordly feline still purrs as she follows the others to a place of sleep before she emulates the horse of her earlier jest.
Later...
In the midst of the hall, Vardi, while apparently in search of her cat passes the musing Ser Almeric and murmurs "Whoever put the fear in that lad got ta them afore we did." then in louder voice says "There you are!" as she picks up Skoggi from beside her.
"I do hope he was nay pestering ye fer scaps, Ser." she explains in some embarrassment "He has been fed, and before any of us ate too!" then in an undertone "I dinnay know who did, but it stuck fast." before she sits back down.
Thatch pats the youngest guard on the back as he finishes cleaning himself at the water barrel. “Think on my words, don’t let those others lead you in trouble you have no part in. You will find me willing to listen.” Persuasion. 11.
.Thatch leaves the wet and still slightly soiled guardsman behind as he hurries to catch up with the others toward the manor house. “I will bunk with you and Ori, Cainneach. I can barely drag myself to the room, though the sky says we should be getting up, not going abed.” Thatch scratches Salt behind the ears as he comes up to them and stifles a yawn with his other hand.
Cainneach's sleep during the day was halting, broken by haunting dreams of girls in wells, Famh among them. He was able to remember these scenes thanks to the frequent stirrings caused by his sensitivity to the unnatural noises of the town while trying to sleep during the unnatural hours of daylight. Thus, Cainneach awoke for the evening repast only slightly less weary than when they arrived in town, and immediately more disoriented. After shaking off the state caused by the last several unpleasant hours' rest, he confers with Thatch and Ori regarding the details he picked up from his quick reconnoiter of the watchmen. Hopefully, between the three of them, this knowledge would persist if they didn't find themselves back on their trail for some period of time. In general, though, Cainneach was fairly confident that he and Salt would be able to identify and follow them this time.
At dinner, Cainneach is reluctant to shift their travel to night time. Between his weariness and the inherent difficulties of tracking, defending, and attacking at night, he offers that while there may be advantages to doing so, there are certainly disadvantages as well. The forester will, however, go along with whatever the party agrees upon.
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Thatch yawns as he sits at the table, still bleary eyed, but rested. He attacks a mutton pie and listens intently as Cainneach shares what he learned from his investigation earlier this morning. Nodding along with interest as he shares a relevant detail or bit of gossip. He throws a sideways glance at the four youth occasionally, but tries to do it discreetly to not be noticed watching them. He turns to Sir Almeric “Begging your pardon, sir. But you said we were to head north soon. Any word on what we are looking for yet? And what about the poor lass we couldn’t find, are we just to leave her?”
Food and drink were consumed as the companions chatted and discussed options.....
Almeric considers strategy while prompted by Thatch to arrive at a decision.
"North is where the disturbances occurred. This is our primary mission, given us by the Duke. Two days hence, where the road turns into a deer path, the is a hillsteader called Rory Mor who lives on a broch. He knows more of this. Everything points towards the unusual, a beastie or a bogie maybe. This does not fit the behaviours of Reivers. Never fear Huntsman, we have dealt with worse and survived. We will prevail, guided by Relics, Faith, Skill and Steel. You skill with the bow will be very useful.
Almeric addresses all the Retinue by their proposed or expected title, to be confirmed when they return to Gorham. Thatch will be a Huntsman, a master of horse and a hunter. Cainneach is a Forester, a Gamekeeper, hunter and enforcer of the natural flora and fauna. Ori is their Sergeant-at-Arms and the new Retinue deputy. Vardi, should she choose to accompany them, is too good to a simple 'Woman-at-Arms'? Tana is a Herbalist, creating potions, balms and poultices among other things. Then their was Famh, who defies categorisation, a Seer, Witch, whatever she chose to be...
The disappearance of Morag is disturbing, but not part of our primary mission. If the lads run, they declare their guilt and we would hunt them down like dogs chasing a fox. They must remain here until spring if they wish to maintain their innocence. We can wait till our return, to deal with them fully. Never fear Huntsman, Justice will be met!"
Almeric considers their tactics and opens the conversation up to everyone.
"We could remain here until dawn, resting as best we can, returning to day time operations. Travel during the day is safer, tracking is easier, but we lose a day in our mission. If we leave now, we could maintain nocturnal operations. This is more difficult, slower and more hazardous. My night vision is good and I can lead us through the night, taking on any hazards that present themselves. A third option would be to leave now, march through the night and all day tomorrow then rest. We risk exhaustion again but would return to daytime operations tomorrow. This is the fastest option, and we might reach Rory Mor's Hillstead by tomorrow, but also risk encountering nocturnal predators. Thoughts?"
Almeric suddenly realised the Shield Maiden might not be familiar or comfortable with their progressive style of operations. Ah Vardi, we always discuss tactics openly and usually reach a consensus before proceeding, unless there are matters of life or death concerned. Feel free to speak,"
"As far as thoughts about that hunt go, most bogies and beasties in the auld tales tend to come out at night. Traveling then, we'd be mair likely to come across whatever we seek out and about instead o' having to hunt it down in its lair where they say a cornered beast is most dangerous. And now we're rested. At the least we should leave this e'en and get a start, and then next morn decide whether to carry on to Rory Mor's steading."
Famh smiles after her sadness, if a little diffidently. The idea of herself as someone with a title and role is a rather new and pleasant thought to her. "Well, I don't quite know what to call myself! I seem to weave together all these threads ... old stories, things the faeries tell me, clews and threads of all sorts --- Lorekeeper, maybe? No quite sure what the proper word would be. I'd be more than your storyteller, but without book learning 'scholar' doesna quite fit either. Or maybe a title from the Old Speech would work best...'filidh'?" She blushes briefly, then winks. "The lowest order to start of course, and even then I'd be rising a wee bit above the rank I was born to, but I'm learning to bear myself better in society so it might be possible."
=========
https://www.britannica.com/art/fili-ancient-Gaelic-poets
(from highest to lowest: Ollamh, Anrúth, Clí, Cano, Dos, Mac Fuirmid, Focloc.)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
(OOC: I am pretty sure that Cainneach already has the title of Forester, as he has served in that capacity for Baron Aldred and the Dayne household. Also, he most definitely does not wish to be addressed by that title. Cainneach will do just fine, thanks.)
"I've already made concerns my about travelling at night known. I should add one other danger I was warned of by a local veteran of the watch. He told me to beware of the wee lights dancing in the moorlands along the ridgeline. No further elaboration, but I imagine they are the tricks of some cruel temptation."
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Vardi takes a generous portion of buttered vegetables along with the mutton pie, and sneaks a second bannock under the first one, along with a mug of mead. For all the dark thoughts and dire forbodings adrift in her head on the fate of Morag Cowherder, now her stomach is less concerned with forbodings and more with doing something more practical about them without falling over for lack of food in the process.
The fact it gives her hands something to do other than twitch in suppressed frustration helps, and keeps her mouth full and her ears and eyes free to absorb what goes on while she eats is a gift beyond hospitality, and at least one she can compliment with good appetite as a guest. The warrior woman sips the mead, enjoying its flavor in favor of a clear head to think on what she learns. Skoggi sits on her lap, apparently curled up asleep but with one ear poking up from the mass of purring gentleman that says otherwise.
Almeric: Ah Vardi, we always discuss tactics openly and usually reach a consensus before proceeding, unless there are matters of life or death concerned. Feel free to speak,"
The big lass looks up at the mention of her name, and she nods as she answers "Aye..." then stops as habit brings a "Ser" to her tongue to go with it, which she is not sure is quite the fashion for irregulars such as Almeric's troop. She recovers by adding "I will if I think of anything tha' might be of use, other than tha' I'd rather face trouble well rested than falling over from lack of sleep, given a choice about it." and sips her mead a moment.
Fahm: "Well, I don't quite know what to call myself! I seem to weave together all these threads ... old stories, things the faeries tell me, clews and threads of all sorts --- Lorekeeper, maybe? No quite sure what the proper word would be. I'd be more than your storyteller, but without book learning 'scholar' doesna quite fit either. Or maybe a title from the Old Speech would work best...'filidh'?" She blushes briefly, then winks. "The lowest order to start of course, and even then I'd be rising a wee bit above the rank I was born to, but I'm learning to bear myself better in society so it might be possible."
At Famh's suggestion, indeed her aspiration to be one of those for whom a place is always kept by the fire by those who value knowledge, Vardi nods silently but solemnly, in serious recognition of a fitting descriptor of the quick woman's sharp wits as well as a worthy ambition for a scholar of life nay the library.
When others have spoken their own minds on the matter of a hunt by night, Vardi offers three thoughts, namely "We will need a favorable moon, and no clouds at tha very least if we are ta travel wi'out torch or lantern by night. If wha' we seek fears fire then torches would be useful even if they're kept in reserve 'til needed. If ye think torches would give us away and warn tha quarry, then a hooded lantern may be yer best bet for light tha can be hid quick like."
She looks a little hesitant as she adds quietly "If the missing lass, Morag, is nay missing on account of those three, ah, four lads yonder, but she has come ta harm down the well..." then rapidly, as if she will lose her nerve to speak otherwise she explains "I wonder if maybe she'll wash up miles away from where she was last seen. I nay know how far the water runs from the well Famh found her embroidered finery in, nor where it emerges above ground, if it does, or even if tha' is what became of her. Someone tried ta polaxe tha bull tha is head o tha herd, and tha most likely person ta try ta stop 'em, whoever they be, is missing."
Vardi spreads her hands in acceptance but also warning as she concludes "I understand tha is nay our mission at tha moment, nay unless any of tha foxes run afore Spring, but I am nay sure if it is nay a fox ta blame so much as another beast hiding behind them."
OOC: Vardi, thinking on bogies by night and Cainneach's mention of wandering lights as well, makes an Arcana check (Total of 9.) and History check (Total of 13.) for any local tales she may have heard since leaving the Lyften Islands that may be useful.
Vardi can recall little but some vague recollections of tales of corpse-lights and St Elmos fire but is unsure whether they are the same thing or even relevant to Cainneachs tale. Looking to the sky and its skudding clouds earlier in the day she thinks it unlikely there will be much moonlight tonight.
With opinions seemingly balanced on travel options, eyes turned to Ori to speak his piece.....