The ratatosk’s whiskers twitch as he studies Ludwig’s wavering talons. With deliberate calm he prises a whet-stone from his belt, draws one claw across it—shhhck—then lets the stone vanish again. His thoughts ripple outward, precise and toneless: “Marquis von Graff.” A faint inclination of the head acknowledges the title, though the crossbow remains half-raised. “Not long ago, a band of black-feathered cut-purses fell upon us outside the road. Was that you?”
He lets the implication hang before continuing.“We patched the ‘random ass deer-thing’, as you style him. He answers to Starry in this shape, and he is calm in our company. Your approach drove him into the dark; your friend should note that.”
Syed’s tail coils tighter round the stock, but the muzzle dips a finger-width lower—an overture of truce rather than threat. “State your intent, Marquis. If you plan chains or vivisection, we part ways now. If you seek a cure—or simply a safe escort—speak it plainly. We will not hunt your brother’s kin for you, yet neither will we hinder a just retrieval… provided your knives stay sheathed and your flock leaves travelers unmolested.”
To his party he adds, softer, “Hold perimeter. He quavers, but cornered birds peck sharply and viciously.”
Mellow shifts, planting himself squarely beside Ludwig’s dropped dagger; one heavy paw settles on the hilt with a quiet clink. Syed’s black eyes never leave the wereraven’s.
“Choose, Marquis. Parley and partnership—or vanish into the treeline and pray Endra still trusts the shape that frightened him.”
The silence that follows is razor-keen, waiting for the bird-man’s next move.
Sorry, I'm beginning to enter a vacation period and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
"Finally... our group is already quite... Diverse... What's one more member of our crew..." William replies before adjusting his pack.
The ratatosk’s whiskers twitch as he studies Ludwig’s wavering talons. With deliberate calm he prises a whet-stone from his belt, draws one claw across it—shhhck—then lets the stone vanish again. His thoughts ripple outward, precise and toneless: “Marquis von Graff.” A faint inclination of the head acknowledges the title, though the crossbow remains half-raised.
“Not long ago, a band of black-feathered cut-purses fell upon us outside the road. Was that you?”
He lets the implication hang before continuing.“We patched the ‘random ass deer-thing’, as you style him. He answers to Starry in this shape, and he is calm in our company. Your approach drove him into the dark; your friend should note that.”
Syed’s tail coils tighter round the stock, but the muzzle dips a finger-width lower—an overture of truce rather than threat. “State your intent, Marquis. If you plan chains or vivisection, we part ways now. If you seek a cure—or simply a safe escort—speak it plainly. We will not hunt your brother’s kin for you, yet neither will we hinder a just retrieval… provided your knives stay sheathed and your flock leaves travelers unmolested.”
To his party he adds, softer, “Hold perimeter. He quavers, but cornered birds peck sharply and viciously.”
Mellow shifts, planting himself squarely beside Ludwig’s dropped dagger; one heavy paw settles on the hilt with a quiet clink. Syed’s black eyes never leave the wereraven’s.
“Choose, Marquis. Parley and partnership—or vanish into the treeline and pray Endra still trusts the shape that frightened him.”
The silence that follows is razor-keen, waiting for the bird-man’s next move.
Sorry, I'm beginning to enter a vacation period and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus ||