The Forgotten Wish

Nuria cringes when the elf speaks directly to her, and her face pales even more when her rapier is mentioned. However, she continues to look down rather than back at the noble woman. This trip just got ten times more stressful. At least she hadn't angered Lady Lark...

When Breldo falls in beside her, the girl looks down at him then simply nods to his words, afraid of trying to speak. That's how all nobles are? Of course, how else would they act? Isn't it their job to order around commoners? Yes, she will go along with whatever this noble lady says. Nobles have authority after all, and that means stay on their good side or end up behind bars. She shivers, thinking of all the times she narrowly avoided that fate. Back then, she only had to deal with those who ranked a bit higher than herself. Those who actually worked for their food rather than being forced to steal it...like herself. Breldo is right, better to stay obedient and quiet, unless things get ridiculous...then maybe she'll have to make a run for it. She tries to give him a small smile in return, though it fades quickly and she absentmindedly fingers the hilt of her rapier before brushing her hand over the hilt of her dagger.

Breldo watches as Nuria touches her hilts. "Not saying that's how it's gonna go here, but most nobles talk a big game about knowing how to use a blade, but they've never stuck more than a training dummy, and think that everyone follows the sparring rules their noble friends play by. You end up crossing blades with a noble, and you need to come out on top, you DON'T play nice. Fight as dirty as you need to so you come out the other side. And then probably get the hell out of there, even the nobles who don't have friends, there's plenty of folk that would help them out in hopes of their favor... or their next of kin's favor."

The otherwise jovial halfling's expression is grim and intense, but distant, his mind clearly in some part of his past as his own hand grips the stock of his crossbow. He shakes it off with a grin.

"But for now, heads up as we hit the road! Dangers aren't going to be coming from your toes! Unless you skipped giving them a scrub last night!"

Nuria's head snaps back to look at Breldo, "O-oh that's not..." She starts. Had he been thinking she wanted to hurt the noble? "I-I well...to be completely honest..." She glances at the two elves. She doesn't really want them to hear her say this. Then she notices the halflings expression. Had someone he cared about been hurt by a noble? She notes his grip on his crossbow. This man definitely has some memories haunting him. She nearly jumps again when he speaks up at his usual volume, then tries to cover her alarm with a nervous smile. Maybe she can tell him what was really bothering her later....or maybe not.

 With the confirmation of her participation, Khond adopts a broad smile and bends at the waist and forelegs in a bow, "Certainly, dear I possess a great fount of manner and honour, but it is firstmost my concern to ensure we not blindly accept an unknown factor within the group.  I am sure you well understand that words alone make no noble, for those of ill repute are as often adept at masking themselves.  Knowing of your upstanding name, now, I bear no further doubts as to your character, of course."

Moving from the bowing position, Khond lowers himself to the ground, twisting to extend a hand to Pallen, "If someone would offer an extra hand, I will carry our charge to the cart.  Do we have a horse to pull it, or shall I take that duty?"

Rick shrugs as he hand isn't accepted and winks at the Lark before shuffling over and lifting Pallen up.

"Rick thinks Mr. Pallen is most honored to get to ride a ponyman!"

"Some of us are far too proud to allow it, certainly, but I'm a more practical sort.  Of course, that doesn't mean I'll just let anyone climb on my back."

"Rick understands!"

Rick's eyes are firmly on the ponyman's back after having learned it to be a rare honor.

As the whole debacle continues, some murmuring among each other happening for obvious, noble-related reasons, things get moving soon regardless. Pallen seems grateful to Slick helping him up, the man surprisingly heavy until he manages to get up and provide some support himself. He still steps, but with difficulty, each step coming with a hefty "thunk".

It's also hard to say whether or not he's grateful partially because his current attire means there is no actual skin-to-grease contact with Slick, but one way or another the thanks is genuine. And a few moments later, he's loaded up on the cart, and after some back and forth Khond set to pull it. As long as it's just Pallen, an easy task, and spared the difficulty that could come from actual horse riding.

And with that, the journey is soon set off as the group heads out of the South gate. Ahead of them, the world sprawls out. Even in the slightly colder climate, lots of farmland can be seen in the distance, most of the road ahead simply plains and hills through which the road slowly snakes, the only reason they couldn't outright see the end of the road the fact of a shallow incline. Small enough to not be noticed, or coming in the form of small hills, but the same end result. Far to the East one can see distant mountain peaks only barely visible, while on either side of the path patches of forest lie in the distance, although it appears most of the route ahead lies clear of obstructions.

Pallen hesitates, looking about his current position, and seems about to remark on it, but eventually decides there's no need to call on pity, instead deciding to focus on the mission.

"I believe you've all been told where we're heading? Perhaps not the specifics. We're heading to one of the forests far South-West of here. As things stand, it'll probably take us most of today to reach the... City," he says with some hesitation, apparently not certain it's the right word, "Of Passley. From there, we go either West to Mossley and then into the forest, or South toward Mhurgot before branching West toward Somna. I don't think it takes much difference. Once we're closer I'll probably have to guide directions," he says, and there is an unspoken moment of doubt there, hidden in his voice. A moment later, a forced smile crosses his face.

"I hope you will all forgive me, but I would like some time to think about recent events. But... You probably all have questions about all this," he says, waving a frozen hand, seeing no need to further specify, before also half-glancing at Sylvera "And I promised to share what I know as well, so..."

"If there are questions, I'd be glad to answer them right now. I expect if it comes to questions about my conditions, lady Lark would already know everything I could say, but maybe I know a few stories not yet heard before."

"I'd be in favor of Mossley and the forest.", Breldo chimes in. "As far as that goes...", he gestures towards Pallen's hand. "No need to share more on my account, you need to get somewhere safe, a good scout on the roads is what you hired."

The elf offers Breldo at least a smile and a nod, though remains open to any other questions that may arise.

Sylvera eyes Khond as if trying to discern whether or not he was sincere, but after a moment she shrugs, flips her hair, and turns her attention back to Pallen. She watches with some interest as the party helps the dying peasant onto the centaur's back, but makes no comment or move to help with the matter. 

When they load him into the cart, Sylvera gives the vehicle a hesitant look as if considering boarding it herself. However, she quietly huffs as if finding the idea undesirable and instead moves to walk beside the wagon. When Pallen starts talking, she nods as if she already knew what he was going to say. 

She makes no comment about the route, though its unclear if she simply has no opinion, doesn't care, or simply knows nothing about the area but prefers to let everyone else remain ignorant on that fact. However, when Pallen offers to answer questions her attention fully shifts to him. Though she would prefer to wait and ask questions later when none of the other peasants were listening, she realizes that she is working with limited time. Better to get answers now then wait and have it be to late... 

"Yes, I expect I know most of what you will say. Though I am interested to know why your family chooses to allow the wasting to overtake you. Don't you fear being trapped in stone for eternity?" She hesitates for a moment, shuttering slightly, "Is it all in some hope that one day the cause of the wasting will be found, and that you could be revived?" Her eyes grow intent, "I am willing to listen to stories, though if I have heard one before I will tell you to move on." 

Rick smiles a friendly smile at Pallen.

"Rick is happy to go where friend Pallen decides is best!"

Khond mentions over his shoulder, "My people are familiar with Wasting, as well.  Likely the Lady and I can answer any questions of idle curiosity about the subject, if you would wish to avoid it."

Nuria nods along to what Breldo says. She doesn't know where any of these places are and clearly he does. Maybe this job was a good thing. It seems like it will be relatively easy, and she will get to see part of the world....though that in and of itself is scary. After all, prior to her journey to the city, she'd never been outside of her own town. She also doesn't press for more information on the wasting, though she is curious about it. She perks up a bit when both Pallen and Khond offer to answer questions about it. Of course, she will not be asking questions...most likely. However, she will listen to whatever answers they give this noble. She shrinks a little thinking of the woman. She's on an escort mission, with a noble. Is the elven woman expecting them to protect her as well? Oh why did she think about that? That is such a big responsibility! She shivers, then tries to straiten up while unconsciously grabbing her dagger.

Oren watches and takes in the arrival of the snooty elven woman.  He stays quiet and just watches everyone interact.

Finally he moves a bit closer to the newcomer and states in a flat tone.  "My name is Oren.  I'm signed on to help with this and am basically the brute muscle if needed."   

She sees a young mountain dwarf in chainmail, a shield strapped to his back and he has a warhammer easily seen as his main 'brute' weapon, if needed.

He moves a bit once he sees that Nuria is a bit intimidated from the rude words of the new elf and positions himself casually, just so he is nearby but between the two.

"This should be a good few days." he states looking at Nuria as he begins speaking, then expanding his looks to all the others.  "We will all get to walk, learn more about each other, more about the area around Mezzra, and get Pallen to his family resting place."  

Breldo shares an aside with Nuria and Oren. "Figure we'll likely have to let on eventually we've got a job in Mossley, but figure it doesn't hurt to plant the seed now, as it were."

((For LL's benefit, Breldo is an older halfling, somewhat grizzled and weathered, with bushy sidewiskers and well worn but in good repair leather armor and earth toned clothes. He has a well broken in backpack on his back, with a crossbow and case of bolts within easy reach, and a sheathed dagger along each thigh. He generally has a jovial, but 'I've seen it all before' sort of expression.))

Rick stays near Pallen, in case Pallen should need something which Rick could quickly and efficiently get him.

The girl looks down at the dwarf and gives him a nervous smile. Clearly he'd picked up on her discomfort towards the noble. She feels a wave of gratitude flood over her. When was the last time someone had actually cared about her feelings? Or about her in general? Perhaps Oren's words are right. Maybe these next few days will be good. She hopes so.

Nuria's thoughts are broken when Breldo speaks up. "O-oh! I'd nearly forgotten." She blushes. That weird vision thing from the previous night must have blurred her memories. She still has bags under her slightly blurry eyes from her lack of rest. She knows she slept, but that was clearly no normal dream. There is no way that a regular dream would leave her this tired....but what else could it have been? The words of that man echo through her head again. "This world is dying...." She shivers, then realizes that she had started to space off and shakes herself. "That was a g-good idea Breldo." She says, attempting to distract herself from her thoughts.

(I suppose I should follow Spider's example: Nuria is a slightly below average height human girl, who looks around 17-18 years old. She has long black hair that she wears down, and dark brown eyes. She's wearing some clearly used and slightly dirty looking leather armor, and a short well worn black cloak. Her cloths are also dark brown, though they may have been black at one point, and extremely worn. She carries an oddly new-looking shortbow on her back along with a quiver of new-ish arrows, a dagger on each hip, and a rapier on her left hip placed behind the dagger.)

For the most part the group seems content to let Pallen rest, to think over recent events, although only a few of them would know he was likely not as much bothered with their destination as other things, and talking among themselves over other matters. Something the elf at least doesn't seem to mind, instead turning to Sylvera as she does at least have a few questions. He nods, pondering over it for a second, before beginning to speak.

"Of course, I knew that was coming. Where to start... Well, first to apologize if I may seem insensitive but I believe at least a part of it is just general sensibilities. I believe back in Ghurna everyone is rather on one page about it all, but here... Opinions can differ."

"I don't really believe I'll be trapped in stone forever. I don't think anyone would if that is what they were expecting. Most honestly... Personally, I believe I'll just be dead."

"That's fine. I've already come to terms with that. It's just that if you look at it from that way, it makes no difference if I die in stone or flesh, does it? Although," he starts, trailing off while looking nowhere in particular as he says the next few words.

"Assuming it is true, and you get to face eternal sleep rather than go to an afterlife... Different destinations. Not that it used to matter for my family, as we all decided to head the same way," he starts, then quickly adds on.

"On that particular, I'm afraid the story I can deliver may be quite abridged, given how long it has passed down. It goes all the way back from the great collapse after all, when the Wasting first appeared. The place we're going, it used to be an elven outpost. One that was hit hard when this disease appeared. And so, the story goes that our ancestor long ago saw all his friends and family in this position, and when given the choice... Decided to stay."

"And so that tradition has been going, mostly unbroken, for a long, long time," he says, hesitating, as if there are parts there he's not mentioning. Only then does he realize that Sylvera asked a second question too, and hurriedly adds.

"As for a cure- Well, obviously. But... I'm not quite hopeful for me, if that makes sense. I think once you turn into a statue, it is too late. But maybe someday in the future, someone can prevent anyone else from falling to it. Just how the black plague eventually got cured, yes?"

His gaze remains on Sylvera, looking to see if that provides at least some measure of answer.

(Everyone please give me perception rolls while you travel!)

Rick's keen eyes: 16