Aeran bows his head slightly, in appreciation of the blessing. Then he lifts his head, golden locks ruffling around his face. "Thank you, Sister Garaele, " he looks at her face again (Insight: 23). "I will make sure to talk to my comrades and see what they think about making a stop at Conybery on our way back".
You piece the morsels of information that Elmira and the innkeep had let slip about Sister Garaele together with your own observations now that you have met her. She is certainly not telling the whole truth, but her desire to keep the dangers supposedly contained in the book away from evildoers definitely seems genuine. You are sure that her motives are pure. You do however get the impression that when she mentions her 'superiors' she is referring to more than one group of people. Perhaps she is a cleric of Tymora whilst also working for another organisation as well. It would not be beyond the realms of possibility. Clerics have been known to align themselves with certain factions from time to time and it does not necessarily clash with their divine commitments.
Nodding to herself as if she has come to the conclusion of an internal debate, she holds up her hand and says, 'pray wait here one moment. I shall give you something that may be of use on your journey, which may just ensure your safe return.'
She turns, her robes whirling around her ankles, and enters the doorway from which she emerged when you arrived in the square. A moment later she emerges holding a vial of red liquid. 'This is a potion of healing,' she says, 'if you drink it, it can invigorate you and sometimes even stave off death. I sincerely hope you or your companions do not need it, but I would feel better knowing that it is in your hands where it might be of some use rather than in my home.' She holds out the vial, offering it to you.
Aeran, with a genuine and grateful smile, accepts the healing potion from Sister Garaele's outstretched hands. "Why, thank you, Sister Garaele. Your kindness and thoughtfulness will not be forgotten. This potion may indeed become a much-needed aid on our journey, and we appreciate your gesture."
He carefully puts the vial in a pocket of his travelling cloak, ensuring it's readily accessible when required. Hopefully, there won't be a need for it now that he knows about the goblins and the Redbrands lurking in the area, but one can never be too safe nowadays it seems. "May Lady Tymora bless you for your generosity and grant us all the fortune needed for our endeavours," he adds respectfully, bowing his head slightly in appreciation once more.
The paladin makes sure to look around the square, his companions should be coming back soon. Time is of the essence, after all.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Thank you, my dearest, we have experienced it first hand. We were escorting a wagon for gundren and Elmira when we made the acquaintance of your goblins - or rather they made the acquaintance of luk's axe, said the ranger and laughed. While we're here, we'll look into the goblin problem a bit.
Alden turned to Luk and said, "Come on, my friend, before we lose track of time. Aeron is probably already waiting for us. The axe is on me - after all, I still owe you one.
Alden put 3 gold pieces on the counter
A pleasure to do business with you. And I'll see you again soon
Linene's face softens slightly at the mention of both Elmira and Gundren. 'I may be able to help a friend of Elmira's,' she says. 'Arrows I can do.' She eyes Alden's longbow to get an idea of the correct size. Then looks at Lukuth. 'Axes might be trickier. Unless it's a wood cutting axe you want. I guess it'll split a goblin as good as it'll split a log.'
*Good enough, I can’t crop quote chains.*
”As long as it can deal with goblins I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”
'Right-o,' says Linene, as she turns and fishes a bunch of keys from a pouch in her apron. She walks to a sturdy door behind the counter and unlocks two separate locks before swinging it open into a dark room beyond. She steps in and emerges a few moments later with a bundle of long arrows in one hand and a utilitarian-looking wood axe in the other. Placing both on the counter, she looks from Alden to Luk and back again. 'That'll be three gold for the axe, and five silver for ten arrows. How many goblins are you planning on splitting?'
Luk hefts the axe and smiles, “This will do, in answer to how many goblins I’ll spilt it’ll be all I find.”
Linene nods in satisfaction. 'Best thing to do with them, I find. Three gold for the axe then.'
Thank you my dearest - these will serve us well said the ranger with a smile after examining the well-crafted arrowheads.
Whilst we have a moment to chat - what does the latest village rash say? Any unusual occurrences lately? Alden asked curiously So apart from stray goblins in the woods?
'Unusual occurrences? I'll say. It's pretty unusual these days that I've got any stock to sell you. Our supply wagons keep getting hit by bandits and there's no authority here with the balls to do anything about it. I don't know who's doing it, but the latest lot of supplies I was expecting never got here. It's getting to the point where we need to hire a small army to protect a single wagon, and then the numbers just don't add up. Plus we've now got a shipment of weapons in the wrong hands. We've actually put up a reward for that one. Hopefully fifty gold will be enough to tempt one of the scumbags to turn on his mates and bring our stuff back.' Linene sounds quite bitter about the struggles of getting supplies through to Phandalin.
'Anyway, what are you two doing here? You don't look much like miners to me. And going looking for goblins? Most try to steer clear if they can.'
Luk pulls out his pockets. “Oh, I don’t have anything to pay with. Perhaps I can work for the axe?” His usually happy face is downcast.
The group meets up again in the town square, Lukuth hefting his new axe and Alden with a full quiver. Sister Garaele has retreated back inside her home by the time they arrive at the shrine. Agreeing to head on foot back to the site of the ambush, you set off to retrace your steps from the previous evening. It is cool and misty and there is a slight drizzle in the air by mid-morning as you turn from the Phandalin road left onto the Triboar trail. Mayres is still trying to read the book that has captured his attention so thoroughly for the past day or so, and keeps muttering angrily as the light rain dampens his pages. He tries ineffectually to shield the book with one arm whilst reading through the crook of his elbow. The trees loom up on either side of you, reminding you of yesterday's events. The gloom between the trunks could be hiding anything.
It will take until early afternoon to reach the ambush site. I will leave it here to allow you to have a conversation on the road if you wish to discuss anything you've found out, or let us all know how your character is feeling or what they are thinking.
As they get back on the road, Aeran's mind swirls with thoughts, mapping the various pieces of information gathered in Phandalin. The encounters with the locals, from the worried Elmira to the apprehensive Sister Garaele, have left an impression on him. There is something about this area, something untold, hidden behind the town's calm façade, and he feels the strong need to investigate it further.
"Has anyone heard of the village of Conybery or a wizard called Bowgentle?" the paladin turns his head to look at his companions, his golden eyes flitting between them. Since he isn't very familiar with the continent, he hopes that one of them might have more information to give him some context of the favour that Sister Garaele asked.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
As you reach the junction where the Phandalin road meets the Triboar trail, where you will turn left, you see a peculiar sight approaching you. A young female human in blue robes and a large brimmed, pointed hat sits side saddle on the back of a donkey, which is placidly plodding along the road toward you from the direction of the ambush site. There is a cascade of blonde hair emerging from under the hat. The woman seems to be doing an admirable job of remaining seated somewhat precariously on the donkey whilst simultaneously reading a book that she is cradling in her left arm. Her right hand is tracing gestures in the air, almost as if she is conducting an invisible orchestra. There is a crystal-topped staff and a traveler's pack secured to the back of the donkey behind her. Absorbed in her book as she is, she seems not to have noticed you. She is about 80ft away as you sight her approaching the junction. As you continue on your journey, you will pass her heading in the opposite direction.
Aeran explains to his companions about his earlier encounter with Sister Garaele, detailing how she asked for a favour to find a mysterious spell book, possibly guarded by a banshee residing in Conyberry. When he mentions the banshee, he turns to observe their reactions, curious about their thoughts on the matter. 'I told Sister Garaele that I'll see what I can do, but I thought I'd see if you friends would be keen to make an extra stop once we get Gundrun back,' he finishes with a polite smile. Of course, the high elf doesn't expect the rest of the party to just agree to this, and in the case they didn't, he would eventually make his own way to Conybery to try and find out more about the whole thing. He purposefully doesn't mention his wary feeling that something is off about Sister Garaele's plea, not with the intent to deceive, but because he is a bit unsure himself if he is reading too much into it. Better let them form their own impressions.
His gaze focuses on the road ahead again as he lets the others think about his story. But shortly, his brow furrows yet again and his eyes narrow as he tries to make sense of what is in front of him. Is that a woman? Alone? On the road they got attacked not a day ago?
Aeran hesitates briefly but decides to call out to her. 'Excuse me, Miss!' he raises his voice, though she is still some distance away, ensuring she's aware of their presence ahead.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Mayres looks up from his own spellbook, more so alerted to the woman's presence by the clattering of the donkey's hooves and the faint smell of burning cinnamon than Aeran's yell. He wouldn't say that he entirely been aware of what had happened this morning, but he hadn't been entirely unaware either, although it was certainly a fact that he had been pulled along on this second leg of the quest to go save that fellow (whose name Mayres could not remember) mostly by the others’ resolve, like a leaf in a stream.
Ranger looked at Aeren So Connyberry - hmm sounds interesting. We should pay the villages a visit once we've rescued gundren. And assuming, of course, that we get out of this whole thing in one piece. Alden laughed. I think the lady in front of us is just as engrossed in her book as our good mayres he smiled and repeated Aeron's call
As the distance between you and the woman closes, Aeran and Alden's greetings snap her out of her concentration on the book. She looks up, somewhat startled, and the book slips from is position in the crook of her arm. She tries unsuccessfully to catch it, fumbles it, and it falls to the dusty road in a cartwheel of pages.
"Oh, rats!" she exclaims, then makes a clicking sound to the donkey, which halts and dips its head. She slides off its back, landing lightly on her feet on the road, and bends to pick up the book. She fusses and flattens pages as she checks over it. Finally satisfied that she has it in order, she clutches it to her chest and looks at you again, giving a broad smile.
"Oh, gosh! Hello! You're an interesting bunch." She says brightly. She looks at each of you in turn and takes in the armour, the weapons, and Mayres with his own book. "You look like you mean business." Suddenly the smile drops, replaced by a slight frown. "Oh, no, you're not baddies, are you?"
As the distance between you and the woman closes, Aeran and Alden's greetings snap her out of her concentration on the book. She looks up, somewhat startled, and the book slips from is position in the crook of her arm. She tries unsuccessfully to catch it, fumbles it, and it falls to the dusty road in a cartwheel of pages.
"Oh, rats!" she exclaims, then makes a clicking sound to the donkey, which halts and dips its head. She slides off its back, landing lightly on her feet on the road, and bends to pick up the book. She fusses and flattens pages as she checks over it. Finally satisfied that she has it in order, she clutches it to her chest and looks at you again, giving a broad smile.
"Oh, gosh! Hello! You're an interesting bunch." She says brightly. She looks at each of you in turn and takes in the armour, the weapons, and Mayres with his own book. "You look like you mean business." Suddenly the smile drops, replaced by a slight frown. "Oh, no, you're not baddies, are you?"
"I suppose that would depend on your perspective," Mayres said without thinking, "to those I regard as confidants, I am generally on their side, but to those who do not gain my friendship or act without morals often find themselves cursed or dead." He paused. "Although not necessarily in that order."
"We seem to share a similar magical aptitude, and I assume you are fairly new at it -- since you ride a donkey rather than a horse -- but perhaps you simply have always been poor?" Mayres' words were rather rude, although he had not intended them that way. Spend too many centuries with only books and the dead, and one's social skills did not improve, in fact they notably worsened.
"I suppose that would depend on your perspective," Mayres said without thinking, "to those I regard as confidants, I am generally on their side, but to those who do not gain my friendship or act without morals often find themselves cursed or dead." He paused. "Although not necessarily in that order."
"We seem to share a similar magical aptitude, and I assume you are fairly new at it -- since you ride a donkey rather than a horse -- but perhaps you simply have always been poor?" Mayres' words were rather rude, although he had not intended them that way. Spend too many centuries with only books and the dead, and one's social skills did not improve, in fact they notably worsened.
The woman looks around theatrically, doing a full spin and coming back to face you. She says with a mischievous grin and a wink, "Have you left your horse at the castle with your servants, then?"
She looks at Aeran for a moment and then says in Elvish,
"Is he always this rude, or did I catch him on a bad day?"
Aeran stares for a long moment at this strange woman, wondering what she is doing in such a dangerous area on her own. His gaze flickers from her face to the donkey, then to the book in her hands before stopping on her face again. In fact, he gets so distracted that he doesn't even hear the words spilling out of Mayres' mouth at first. Eventually his hearing catches up and the paladin's head snaps so fast to look at the wizard that it's a wonder his neck doesn't break. Eyes wide with disbelief and confusion as he now stares at Mayres, wondering what prompted this... exchange, Aeran awkwardly clears his throat and uncomfortably shifts in place. "Ugh..." the high elf manages to turn his gaze back towards the woman. "Apologies, Miss. Didn't mean to scare you, " she doesn't exactly appear scared to him, but in his mind this sounded better than putting his companion on the spot. "We are just travellers passing through, no baddies among us, " he mutters a bit unsure, before clearing his throat again. "Ahem, my name is Aeran. Pardon me asking, Miss, but what are you doing all alone on the road? This area isn't particularly safe for any lone travellers..." he inquires, his gaze briefly flitting to the the staff secured to the rest of her belongings on the donkey before returning to meet her eyes.
Caught off guard by her fluency in Elvish, Aeran's initial surprise softens into an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders. He meets her eyes, his expression slightly bemused yet amiable.
"Oh," she says, "I'm not alone. I've got Malcolm here," she sort of swivels her hips to indicate the donkey, as her hands are still wrapped around her book, "and Willow." She nods to indicate a sleek tabby cat that is currently circling Aeran's ankles. You could have sworn it wasn't there a moment ago.
"As to what we're doing, well, um... we're sort of, well... looking for trouble, you could say. I mean, studying books is all well and good, and I do love studying books, but if that's all you ever do it's soooooo booooooring! Ugh!" She draws out the words to indicate just how boring she finds it, while throwing back her head in rather dramatic disgust.
"Elara would have me doing it til I die of old age, I think. But that's just a afternoon to an elf, isn't it? You probably think we humans are terribly impetuous and impatient, but we sort of have to be, don't we? Being so short-lived and all. Anyway, I wanted to find out what it's like to use the spells I've learned for real, and you can't get that from a book. I figured that out here on the edge of civilisation would be a good place to look. You know, for trouble." The wide grin is back. She seems to have a girlish enthusiasm for finding things that might kill her.
"I'm glad you're not baddies," she continues, "but you look a bit like you might be looking for some. Do you mind if we come with you?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Y-you... I... W-we...," Aeran stammers, caught off guard by her unexpected request. His initial impulse is to firmly decline her proposition and send her back to whoever this Elara is. The weight of their impending journey, fraught with dangers lurking in every shadow, floods his mind. The goblins, the Redbrands, even the banshee... they already have a plate too full with risks and perils to add another variable, another person he has to look out for. Yet, as she speaks with an almost childish excitement, something within Aeran stirs.
Her enthusiasm, however naïve, seems to reach within his mind and body, evoking a memory hidden deep beneath the layers of grief and duty. For a fleeting moment, it's as if he sees Elowen standing before him, her emerald eyes ablaze with an adventurous spark he once knew so well.
He hesitates, the word "No" forms on his lips, yet his voice falters, almost lost in the turmoil of conflicting thoughts. Unable to resist the pull of her infectious determination, Aeran finds himself nodding almost mechanically, the decision slipping out before he fully registers it. "Of course," he hears himself say, "You are more than welcome."
He blinks and Elowen disappears again but for some reason, something inside his chest feels warmer. The paladin focuses again on the stranger's face, searching for any sign of deceit or regret in her features (Insight: 11), suddenly concerned by his own response. "Of course, my companions w-would also need to consider it." He stammers again, realising his failure to consult the rest of the party. But to be fair, he forgot all about their existence for a moment there.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Mayres stood awkwardly, clutching his spellbook as if he were downing and it was a piece of driftwood. "I did not mean to offend you. I --"
Blue as the ocean or green as the sea, Mayres could never quite decide what color Annabel's eyes were. He loved them all the same, of course. Loved everything about his only friend. Still, he wished she wouldn't hug him so tightly.
"I can't breathe," he complained, holding himself stiff in her grasp. He, not for the first time, marveled at how short she was actually was, which was strange becouse she loomed so large in his mind: brave and beautiful, awesome in the most archaic sense of the word.
"I don't care if you can breath, Mayres. I care that you don't understand that that shopkeeper was going to stab you!"
"He was?"
"You called him ugly!"
"No, I said that if he was selling beauty potions they should at least work."
Annabel shoulders shook, and for a terrifying moment Mayres was worried he made her cry, before her laughter bounced around the room.
"You can't say that --" She wheezed, almost smiling. Mayres felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Why did it feel like such a victory to make Annabel laugh? To make Annabel smile?
Mayres stared at the woman blankly, swept up in the memory. It wasn't that she looked like his Annabel, or even acted like her, but there was something in that sarcastic response that was exactly like something Annabel would say.
"I'm sorry, I do not belive I finished my sentence. My name is Mayres Sigil, and I see no problem with you accompanying us." He finally managed to say, smiling at the woman.
The pleasure is also on my side too. Alden smiled. A helping hand with good intentions is always welcome I've rarely seen my elven friend here as taciturn as he is right now. Alden's grin widened and he nudged aeron lightly with his elbow
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
You piece the morsels of information that Elmira and the innkeep had let slip about Sister Garaele together with your own observations now that you have met her. She is certainly not telling the whole truth, but her desire to keep the dangers supposedly contained in the book away from evildoers definitely seems genuine. You are sure that her motives are pure. You do however get the impression that when she mentions her 'superiors' she is referring to more than one group of people. Perhaps she is a cleric of Tymora whilst also working for another organisation as well. It would not be beyond the realms of possibility. Clerics have been known to align themselves with certain factions from time to time and it does not necessarily clash with their divine commitments.
Nodding to herself as if she has come to the conclusion of an internal debate, she holds up her hand and says, 'pray wait here one moment. I shall give you something that may be of use on your journey, which may just ensure your safe return.'
She turns, her robes whirling around her ankles, and enters the doorway from which she emerged when you arrived in the square. A moment later she emerges holding a vial of red liquid. 'This is a potion of healing,' she says, 'if you drink it, it can invigorate you and sometimes even stave off death. I sincerely hope you or your companions do not need it, but I would feel better knowing that it is in your hands where it might be of some use rather than in my home.' She holds out the vial, offering it to you.
Aeran, with a genuine and grateful smile, accepts the healing potion from Sister Garaele's outstretched hands. "Why, thank you, Sister Garaele. Your kindness and thoughtfulness will not be forgotten. This potion may indeed become a much-needed aid on our journey, and we appreciate your gesture."
He carefully puts the vial in a pocket of his travelling cloak, ensuring it's readily accessible when required. Hopefully, there won't be a need for it now that he knows about the goblins and the Redbrands lurking in the area, but one can never be too safe nowadays it seems. "May Lady Tymora bless you for your generosity and grant us all the fortune needed for our endeavours," he adds respectfully, bowing his head slightly in appreciation once more.
The paladin makes sure to look around the square, his companions should be coming back soon. Time is of the essence, after all.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
Thank you, my dearest, we have experienced it first hand. We were escorting a wagon for gundren and Elmira when we made the acquaintance of your goblins - or rather they made the acquaintance of luk's axe, said the ranger and laughed. While we're here, we'll look into the goblin problem a bit.
Alden turned to Luk and said, "Come on, my friend, before we lose track of time. Aeron is probably already waiting for us. The axe is on me - after all, I still owe you one.
Alden put 3 gold pieces on the counter
A pleasure to do business with you. And I'll see you again soon
Luk pulls out his pockets. “Oh, I don’t have anything to pay with. Perhaps I can work for the axe?” His usually happy face is downcast.
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
The group meets up again in the town square, Lukuth hefting his new axe and Alden with a full quiver. Sister Garaele has retreated back inside her home by the time they arrive at the shrine. Agreeing to head on foot back to the site of the ambush, you set off to retrace your steps from the previous evening. It is cool and misty and there is a slight drizzle in the air by mid-morning as you turn from the Phandalin road left onto the Triboar trail. Mayres is still trying to read the book that has captured his attention so thoroughly for the past day or so, and keeps muttering angrily as the light rain dampens his pages. He tries ineffectually to shield the book with one arm whilst reading through the crook of his elbow. The trees loom up on either side of you, reminding you of yesterday's events. The gloom between the trunks could be hiding anything.
It will take until early afternoon to reach the ambush site. I will leave it here to allow you to have a conversation on the road if you wish to discuss anything you've found out, or let us all know how your character is feeling or what they are thinking.
As they get back on the road, Aeran's mind swirls with thoughts, mapping the various pieces of information gathered in Phandalin. The encounters with the locals, from the worried Elmira to the apprehensive Sister Garaele, have left an impression on him. There is something about this area, something untold, hidden behind the town's calm façade, and he feels the strong need to investigate it further.
"Has anyone heard of the village of Conybery or a wizard called Bowgentle?" the paladin turns his head to look at his companions, his golden eyes flitting between them. Since he isn't very familiar with the continent, he hopes that one of them might have more information to give him some context of the favour that Sister Garaele asked.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
Hmm it rattled in the ranger's head.
I've travelled around a bit but neither the place nor the name mean anything to me
What's it all about?
Luk frowns as he tries to remember then shrugs. ”That’s a funny name, I can’t remember hearing it before though. Has something happened there?”
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
As you reach the junction where the Phandalin road meets the Triboar trail, where you will turn left, you see a peculiar sight approaching you. A young female human in blue robes and a large brimmed, pointed hat sits side saddle on the back of a donkey, which is placidly plodding along the road toward you from the direction of the ambush site. There is a cascade of blonde hair emerging from under the hat. The woman seems to be doing an admirable job of remaining seated somewhat precariously on the donkey whilst simultaneously reading a book that she is cradling in her left arm. Her right hand is tracing gestures in the air, almost as if she is conducting an invisible orchestra. There is a crystal-topped staff and a traveler's pack secured to the back of the donkey behind her. Absorbed in her book as she is, she seems not to have noticed you. She is about 80ft away as you sight her approaching the junction. As you continue on your journey, you will pass her heading in the opposite direction.
Aeran explains to his companions about his earlier encounter with Sister Garaele, detailing how she asked for a favour to find a mysterious spell book, possibly guarded by a banshee residing in Conyberry. When he mentions the banshee, he turns to observe their reactions, curious about their thoughts on the matter. 'I told Sister Garaele that I'll see what I can do, but I thought I'd see if you friends would be keen to make an extra stop once we get Gundrun back,' he finishes with a polite smile. Of course, the high elf doesn't expect the rest of the party to just agree to this, and in the case they didn't, he would eventually make his own way to Conybery to try and find out more about the whole thing. He purposefully doesn't mention his wary feeling that something is off about Sister Garaele's plea, not with the intent to deceive, but because he is a bit unsure himself if he is reading too much into it. Better let them form their own impressions.
His gaze focuses on the road ahead again as he lets the others think about his story. But shortly, his brow furrows yet again and his eyes narrow as he tries to make sense of what is in front of him. Is that a woman? Alone? On the road they got attacked not a day ago?
Aeran hesitates briefly but decides to call out to her. 'Excuse me, Miss!' he raises his voice, though she is still some distance away, ensuring she's aware of their presence ahead.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
Mayres looks up from his own spellbook, more so alerted to the woman's presence by the clattering of the donkey's hooves and the faint smell of burning cinnamon than Aeran's yell. He wouldn't say that he entirely been aware of what had happened this morning, but he hadn't been entirely unaware either, although it was certainly a fact that he had been pulled along on this second leg of the quest to go save that fellow (whose name Mayres could not remember) mostly by the others’ resolve, like a leaf in a stream.
Ranger looked at Aeren
So Connyberry - hmm sounds interesting. We should pay the villages a visit once we've rescued gundren. And assuming, of course, that we get out of this whole thing in one piece.
Alden laughed.
I think the lady in front of us is just as engrossed in her book as our good mayres he smiled and repeated Aeron's call
Miss excuse us
As the distance between you and the woman closes, Aeran and Alden's greetings snap her out of her concentration on the book. She looks up, somewhat startled, and the book slips from is position in the crook of her arm. She tries unsuccessfully to catch it, fumbles it, and it falls to the dusty road in a cartwheel of pages.
"Oh, rats!" she exclaims, then makes a clicking sound to the donkey, which halts and dips its head. She slides off its back, landing lightly on her feet on the road, and bends to pick up the book. She fusses and flattens pages as she checks over it. Finally satisfied that she has it in order, she clutches it to her chest and looks at you again, giving a broad smile.
"Oh, gosh! Hello! You're an interesting bunch." She says brightly. She looks at each of you in turn and takes in the armour, the weapons, and Mayres with his own book. "You look like you mean business." Suddenly the smile drops, replaced by a slight frown. "Oh, no, you're not baddies, are you?"
"I suppose that would depend on your perspective," Mayres said without thinking, "to those I regard as confidants, I am generally on their side, but to those who do not gain my friendship or act without morals often find themselves cursed or dead." He paused. "Although not necessarily in that order."
"We seem to share a similar magical aptitude, and I assume you are fairly new at it -- since you ride a donkey rather than a horse -- but perhaps you simply have always been poor?" Mayres' words were rather rude, although he had not intended them that way. Spend too many centuries with only books and the dead, and one's social skills did not improve, in fact they notably worsened.
The woman looks around theatrically, doing a full spin and coming back to face you. She says with a mischievous grin and a wink, "Have you left your horse at the castle with your servants, then?"
She looks at Aeran for a moment and then says in Elvish,
"Is he always this rude, or did I catch him on a bad day?"
Aeran stares for a long moment at this strange woman, wondering what she is doing in such a dangerous area on her own. His gaze flickers from her face to the donkey, then to the book in her hands before stopping on her face again. In fact, he gets so distracted that he doesn't even hear the words spilling out of Mayres' mouth at first. Eventually his hearing catches up and the paladin's head snaps so fast to look at the wizard that it's a wonder his neck doesn't break. Eyes wide with disbelief and confusion as he now stares at Mayres, wondering what prompted this... exchange, Aeran awkwardly clears his throat and uncomfortably shifts in place. "Ugh..." the high elf manages to turn his gaze back towards the woman. "Apologies, Miss. Didn't mean to scare you, " she doesn't exactly appear scared to him, but in his mind this sounded better than putting his companion on the spot. "We are just travellers passing through, no baddies among us, " he mutters a bit unsure, before clearing his throat again. "Ahem, my name is Aeran. Pardon me asking, Miss, but what are you doing all alone on the road? This area isn't particularly safe for any lone travellers..." he inquires, his gaze briefly flitting to the the staff secured to the rest of her belongings on the donkey before returning to meet her eyes.
Caught off guard by her fluency in Elvish, Aeran's initial surprise softens into an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders. He meets her eyes, his expression slightly bemused yet amiable.
He is just a bit... quirky like that
He responds with a wry smile.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
"Oh," she says, "I'm not alone. I've got Malcolm here," she sort of swivels her hips to indicate the donkey, as her hands are still wrapped around her book, "and Willow." She nods to indicate a sleek tabby cat that is currently circling Aeran's ankles. You could have sworn it wasn't there a moment ago.
"As to what we're doing, well, um... we're sort of, well... looking for trouble, you could say. I mean, studying books is all well and good, and I do love studying books, but if that's all you ever do it's soooooo booooooring! Ugh!" She draws out the words to indicate just how boring she finds it, while throwing back her head in rather dramatic disgust.
"Elara would have me doing it til I die of old age, I think. But that's just a afternoon to an elf, isn't it? You probably think we humans are terribly impetuous and impatient, but we sort of have to be, don't we? Being so short-lived and all. Anyway, I wanted to find out what it's like to use the spells I've learned for real, and you can't get that from a book. I figured that out here on the edge of civilisation would be a good place to look. You know, for trouble." The wide grin is back. She seems to have a girlish enthusiasm for finding things that might kill her.
"I'm glad you're not baddies," she continues, "but you look a bit like you might be looking for some. Do you mind if we come with you?"
"Y-you... I... W-we...," Aeran stammers, caught off guard by her unexpected request. His initial impulse is to firmly decline her proposition and send her back to whoever this Elara is. The weight of their impending journey, fraught with dangers lurking in every shadow, floods his mind. The goblins, the Redbrands, even the banshee... they already have a plate too full with risks and perils to add another variable, another person he has to look out for. Yet, as she speaks with an almost childish excitement, something within Aeran stirs.
Her enthusiasm, however naïve, seems to reach within his mind and body, evoking a memory hidden deep beneath the layers of grief and duty. For a fleeting moment, it's as if he sees Elowen standing before him, her emerald eyes ablaze with an adventurous spark he once knew so well.
He hesitates, the word "No" forms on his lips, yet his voice falters, almost lost in the turmoil of conflicting thoughts. Unable to resist the pull of her infectious determination, Aeran finds himself nodding almost mechanically, the decision slipping out before he fully registers it. "Of course," he hears himself say, "You are more than welcome."
He blinks and Elowen disappears again but for some reason, something inside his chest feels warmer. The paladin focuses again on the stranger's face, searching for any sign of deceit or regret in her features (Insight: 11), suddenly concerned by his own response. "Of course, my companions w-would also need to consider it." He stammers again, realising his failure to consult the rest of the party. But to be fair, he forgot all about their existence for a moment there.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
Mayres stood awkwardly, clutching his spellbook as if he were downing and it was a piece of driftwood. "I did not mean to offend you. I --"
Blue as the ocean or green as the sea, Mayres could never quite decide what color Annabel's eyes were. He loved them all the same, of course. Loved everything about his only friend. Still, he wished she wouldn't hug him so tightly.
"I can't breathe," he complained, holding himself stiff in her grasp. He, not for the first time, marveled at how short she was actually was, which was strange becouse she loomed so large in his mind: brave and beautiful, awesome in the most archaic sense of the word.
"I don't care if you can breath, Mayres. I care that you don't understand that that shopkeeper was going to stab you!"
"He was?"
"You called him ugly!"
"No, I said that if he was selling beauty potions they should at least work."
Annabel shoulders shook, and for a terrifying moment Mayres was worried he made her cry, before her laughter bounced around the room.
"You can't say that --" She wheezed, almost smiling. Mayres felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Why did it feel like such a victory to make Annabel laugh? To make Annabel smile?
Mayres stared at the woman blankly, swept up in the memory. It wasn't that she looked like his Annabel, or even acted like her, but there was something in that sarcastic response that was exactly like something Annabel would say.
"I'm sorry, I do not belive I finished my sentence. My name is Mayres Sigil, and I see no problem with you accompanying us." He finally managed to say, smiling at the woman.
The pleasure is also on my side too. Alden smiled.
A helping hand with good intentions is always welcome
I've rarely seen my elven friend here as taciturn as he is right now. Alden's grin widened and he nudged aeron lightly with his elbow