Vydar gasps as his eyes snap open, and he flails his arms around then tries to scotch backwards reflexively away from the dagger. However, something holding him keeps him from moving. With the intense fear he was just subjected to, it takes several moments for his eyes to adjust. Dazed and breathing heavily, he finds both Lev and Iolinder looking down at him. Sweat rolls down his face as he shakes his head trying to re orient himself. He flails his arms again as the two faces start coming back into focus, and he notices the dagger awfully close to his hand. “Gah! Let go of me!” Once again scooting backwards but this time out of Iolinder’s grasp. Still panting, his brain reeling from fear and surprise at the support from these two elves, he hears Iolinder’s question.
“I….Tried to use a spell to identify… I-I don’t know exactly….it put me in a vision…there was a demon.”
Shivering, he stares at the dagger until he hears Amdaeg’s voice and suddenly feels Charlie nuzzle him. His breathing starts to slow, and that is when he realizes his trousers are far more damp than they’d been after wading in the river. His face and ears heat up, turning redish with embarrassment. Though this new emotion aids in dissipating the fear, it doesn’t make him any more inclined to talk about what he saw.
Rubbing Charlie’s head, he stands up placing the donkey between himself and the rest of the group in an attempt to hide his shame.
Then he sees Iolinder pick up the dagger and momentarily forgets about his wet trousers. He takes a step forward, opening his mouth to object. However, the half-elf already placed it inside his pack. Shutting his mouth, he steps back behind Charlie. Despite now being thoroughly terrified of that demonic knife, he still wanted to keep it. Just based on that….vision…clearly Natalie was mixed up in things no one should ever be a part of.
Then he remembers his wet pants, mainly because it’s cold outside…
“I…need to check something.”
With that he rushes back over and snatched up his satchel…when there he glances at the pile of notes he’d recovered from the wagon, and realizes that someone had already gone through them. Shaking his head, he dashes into the bushes a short distance away from the group.
After a few moments, he returns wearing his only other pair of trousers and with his arms full of stones. Wordlessly, he helps bury Natalie. Though it’s clear that he’s still shaken from whatever happened with the dagger and likely the fact that he’s having to bury one of the few people he could have called a friend.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Amdaeng watched the others build the cairn, as a dwarf the professor likely followed Throff.....Kerellim in their tongue if she recalled her studies properly. Though she suspected that a prayer dedicated to Titan...Throffs father and Lord of the Heavens would not be unappreciated.
As Vydar returned she moved over to him and inspected him for injury, then her eyebrow raised at the change of pants, " Don't worry about it....had to change mine twice before my first cage fight...", she grinned.
Lev watches the events unfold around him, still standing with that look of disapproval on his face and his arms crossed. His expression doesn't change as Vydar gets up and eventually makes his way off to the woods, or when Iolinder puts the dagger away. However, once Vydar returns and they begin burying Natalie his expression fades to plain weariness before he too moves to help pile rocks. Once that is finished he silently approaches Vydar and holds out Natalie's hat to him, "Here." The dark elf might not have been super close friends with the dwarf, but he is the only one here who knew her much. Lev wouldn't feel right about keeping the hat.
If Vydar doesn't take the hat, he'll just set it on top of the grave.
Sighing, he looks to the cart. From the sound of things everyone is more than ready to start looking for whatever it was Natalie was after. Well, if they are going to be chasing Storm's trail he'd better start fixing the wagon. Since they found the donkey... Charlie, it wouldn't make sense to leave behind such an opportunity.
Survival: 7
Moving towards the cart he mutters under his breath about how to get it out of the water before saying, "Bring the donkey." And gesturing towards the overturned wagon. They will need to pull it out of the riverbank before he can start doing anything with it. Hopefully the wheels are all alright cause if not... well his tools won't do much if more than a few spokes are broken.
'Demon?' Iólinder asked rather quizzically as he watched Vydar walk off to change into a fresh pair of pants. His mind flashed to the dagger tucked away in his backpack. Dark magic was one thing; demonic dark magic was an entire ballpark all together, to the extent that most clergy explicitly forbade anything related to demons and the Pit to be studied or even seen by anyone not of sufficient standing. Of course that never stopped Iólinder...
Iólinder has heard of demonic rituals in which human sacrifice with special daggers is part of the summoning. Getting more information from the embarrassed Vydar and what he experienced may be helpful to you. He clearly "saw" something.
With the group's help and the extra strength of Charlie, you can recover 2 of the 4 wagon wheels and enough wood to construct a primitive two-wheeled cart to carry the large boxes. (Did you want to have Charlie the Donkey pull it or will you design it to pull by hand?)
Iólinder has his doubts that it will survive any difficult mountain trails but it will suffice for now.
You finish burying the professor keeping her belongings out as you decide how to disperse them. Looking closer at the tracks further from the bridge, you also figure the large group that passed through may have 50 or so humanoids, possibly goblins and several giants. You guess they are 12 hours ahead of you, likely headed in the direction of the Icefinger mountains, bad map in their hands.
(Vydar can addSTORMS HATto your inventory: It's a custom homebrew. Who is taking the magic bolts?)
As the group finish preparations and secure the boxes to the cart, you notice a strange sight, coming from the road behind you from the port.
A person, far off, is running toward you. A small cloud of dust behind him as he seems to be moving at great speed.
As he gets closer you see a young man, in his 20s with black hair, maybe 6 feet tall. He wears travel clothes and carries a backpack. He has more than several sheathed daggers attached to various areas of his body.
Zarbyn: Make a perception roll
(Magic empowering your movement, Zarbyn approaches at a rate 60 feet, the speed of a horse.)
As Zarbyn approaches, he sees a strange sight indeed. Across the covered bridge, a strange assortment of elves and a human tend to a primitive two-wheeled cart. The broken remains of a larger cart lie on the bank of the river. To your left, you see a pile of stones. Clearly, they just buried someone. You do not see any dwarves. They seem a bit disorganized and confused.
Zarbyn will stop running when he reaches his side of the bridge and call out in a croaking voice, "Hail there!" then proceed to take a drink from his waterskin.
Pausing briefly to take in the scene before him he wonders if this could be a group of bandits. He quickly dismisses that idea as bandits don't usually spend the time to bury those they kill. Seeing mostly elves he begins to fear something almost as dire, perhaps old hatreds came into play and out of respect they just finished burying whoever they killed.
STOP IT! Stop thinking the worse. For all you know they arrived moments before you did. Yeah right, wishful thinking, try talking first, if that doesn't work you can always run away, I doubt they could catch up to me with just a mule.
"Having trouble with your wagon? What happened here? Are there just the five of you then?"
Stupid, stupid, stupid! What are you doing asking rapid-fire questions of them? Instead of trying to run some half-assed investigation from the other side of a bridge try being more friendly, maybe offer help or aid of some kind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
Iólinder has heard of demonic rituals in which human sacrifice with special daggers is part of the summoning. Getting more information from the embarrassed Vydar and what he experienced may be helpful to you. He clearly "saw" something.
With the group's help, you can recover 2 of the 4 wagon wheels and enough wood to construct a primitive two-wheeled cart to carry the large boxes. (Did you want to have Charlie the Donkey pull it or will you design it to pull by hand?)
Iólinder has his doubts that it will survive any difficult mountain trails but it will suffice for now.
You finish burying the professor keeping her belongings out as you decide how to disperse them. Looking closer at the tracks further from the bridge, you also figure the large group that passed through may have 50 or so humanoids, possibly goblins and several giants. They guess they are 12 hours ahead of you, likely headed in the direction of the Icefinger mountains, bad map in their hands.
(Vydar can addSTORMS HATto your inventory: It's a custom homebrew. Who is taking the magic bolts?)
Well, the crimson haired elf seems friendly at least, but perhaps her disarming nature is part of a ploy.
(ooc: Zarbyn will begin to walk across the bridge... how long is the bridge?)
"My condolences on your loss," Zarbyn will gesture toward the cairn, "perhaps I can help right your wagon, I have rope." Before he gets half way across the bridge he will take his rope off the side of his backpack and also draw one of his knives to begin cutting a ten foot length. Be careful here, you don't know what their true intentions are yet and the odds are 5 to 1. At least this way you have a weapon in hand if things go south, but if it is an ambush your best bet is to race back across the bridge.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
(Bridge is 50 feet across, a fast moving river. Fish jump out constantly Salmon). It appears they are salvaging a 4-wheeled wagon, and building a makeshift 2 wheeled wagon to carry a few large crates. They are almost done. They appear to be somewhat disorganized, and their general mood is almost demoralized. There is a donkey walking around, eating various things.)
'Vydar,'Iólinder said with firm but soft voice, 'you have had a harrowing experience. I will not press you at the moment but could we discuss whatever it it you saw later today? After you've got your bearing.'He gave the elf a smile. 'I would not ask this of you if I did not think it is important.'
With Professor Storm buried and their last respects given, the group prepared to venture forth. There was a plan and with the maps and journal pages in hand they could continue Professor's dream. But before any of that could happen, they needed to address the person, a human from the looks of it, running full speed at them.
Paevira addressed the stranger in what Iólinder could by now only describe as "in her Paevirian manner." For his part he slid his arm through the leather strap of his shield and gripped the handle. The guy was decked out in knives and after everything Iólinder had seen in the past hour, he was not taking any chances.
When Amdaeng approaches him, Vydar's lips tighten and he gives her a flat look before turning away from her. "I don't think that's something to brag about," He grumbles, refusing to look at the woman's grinning face.
Survival: 18
The young elf stands over the finished grave staring into nothingness. He jumps slightly when Lev walks over and gruffly shoves the hat in his direction. This shakes him out of whatever thought's he'd been lost in, and he takes the hat. Staring at it for a moment, he considers what he should actually do with it. Part of him wants to place it on the so far unmarked grave, but the rest of him tells him she wouldn't want it to rot with her corpse. He grimaces at that morbid thought, then opts for placing the hat neatly in his satchel alongside his grimoire. Once he does this he walks over to Charlie to stroke the donkey's neck while watching the others start working on the cart. As he does so, his heart can't decide if the animal's presence is calming or only making his negative emotions worse.
He frowns noticing Iolinder starting to walk over. Despite this, he doesn't take his eyes of Charlie, pretending he didn't notice the half-elf's approach. He's not sure he likes that tone, it makes him feel like a child...though he'd be considered one to other elves. After a moment, he turns his sour expression towards the older man, "Yeah whatever, but I do want that...thing...back eventually. Now that I know what it is I'm sure I can safely study it farther." His frown deepens, "I also noticed that someone read Natalie's notes and at least looked at the ones in that other language. You look like the only one here who could have read those, so if you did I want to know what they said."
The young elf may have said more, if not for the sudden arrival of another human. Vydar gives the man a flat look as he starts jabbering of questions, the answers to which shouldn't be any of this guy's business in the dark elf's book. The guy seems jumpy, and from experience, Vydar can tell he's not just getting that knife out to cut rope. He's surrounded by strangers, and now he feels cornered. The thought makes the young elf smirk. At least the guy has some sense.
Vydar is a slim, but well built young man with a roguish look to him. His shaggy black hair fades to white at the tips, and occasionally covers his dark red eyes. He is tall for an elf, and wears a tattered scarf around his neck. He carries no weapons other than a banged up dagger, though he has a traveler's pack and a satchel that hangs at his side. His clothing is dark in color and is rather worn.
( Damian_Mays backup account- My account is currently buggered like quite a few others and when I post or PM I get this- " You can only make 1 post every 1 sec.") I have reported and will try and muddle through until they can fix. No go on the suggested fix, but thanks.)
Lev grumbles as he begins working on the new cart, finding that the old one is beyond repair. "I told him to bring the donkey..."he mutters under his breath as he hammers one wheel into place. "...Don't need it now anyways..." he continues muttering as he finishes up the cart, ignoring whatever conversations are going on around him, though still completely aware of Vydar and Iolinder talking about the dagger. He can't really blame the dark elf. The fellow doesn't seem like the type who would be easily frightened, so whatever he saw in that vision had to have been bad. "Still..." he mutters something unintelligible, looking towards the old wreckage in search of anything he can use to better their newer yet more primitive vehicle.
He doesn't seem to pay much attention as someone comes racing towards them only to stop and shout at them from the other side of the bridge. He's engrossed in his work after all, so it isn't until the stranger actually starts approaching that he looks up at him. Zarbyn would see an elf with grey skin and green eyes looking at him from over the edge of the primitive cart. The elf has a weary and rather grumpy expression, likely not helped by the fact they just buried someone. His hair is white, though there is some black visible at his scalp, and he's wearing black leather armor, a light tan undershirt, and a silver amulet that stands out starkly against the rest of his well worn outfit. A glaive rests against a nearby bolder alongside a pack with a longbow, quiver, and light crossbow. These likely belong to this... dark elf? No... Black elf, even though he is also armed with a saber.
Seeing the stranger approaching and... cutting a rope? As if that's not obvious. What do you need rope for in this situation? In spite of the offer of help, Lev leans forward over the cart and says, "What do you want? You look like you're going to wet yourself." He clearly doesn't see this newcomer as a threat, whether because it would be five against one or because this human looks like a mouse backed into a corner is up for anyone's guess. Regardless, it's pretty obvious by his posture that he has no intention of jumping Zarbyn...but he also doesn't seem to be the most welcoming member of the party either.
He does perk up a little as Paevira approaches first, suddenly eyeing Zarbyn with a look that says 'you better not do anything with that knife or you'll regret it.' Though he doesn't move from his position, knowing that if something did happen he could be over there in a flash...
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Vydar gasps as his eyes snap open, and he flails his arms around then tries to scotch backwards reflexively away from the dagger. However, something holding him keeps him from moving. With the intense fear he was just subjected to, it takes several moments for his eyes to adjust. Dazed and breathing heavily, he finds both Lev and Iolinder looking down at him. Sweat rolls down his face as he shakes his head trying to re orient himself. He flails his arms again as the two faces start coming back into focus, and he notices the dagger awfully close to his hand. “Gah! Let go of me!” Once again scooting backwards but this time out of Iolinder’s grasp. Still panting, his brain reeling from fear and surprise at the support from these two elves, he hears Iolinder’s question.
“I….Tried to use a spell to identify… I-I don’t know exactly….it put me in a vision…there was a demon.”
Shivering, he stares at the dagger until he hears Amdaeg’s voice and suddenly feels Charlie nuzzle him. His breathing starts to slow, and that is when he realizes his trousers are far more damp than they’d been after wading in the river. His face and ears heat up, turning redish with embarrassment. Though this new emotion aids in dissipating the fear, it doesn’t make him any more inclined to talk about what he saw.
Rubbing Charlie’s head, he stands up placing the donkey between himself and the rest of the group in an attempt to hide his shame.
Then he sees Iolinder pick up the dagger and momentarily forgets about his wet trousers. He takes a step forward, opening his mouth to object. However, the half-elf already placed it inside his pack. Shutting his mouth, he steps back behind Charlie. Despite now being thoroughly terrified of that demonic knife, he still wanted to keep it. Just based on that….vision…clearly Natalie was mixed up in things no one should ever be a part of.
Then he remembers his wet pants, mainly because it’s cold outside…
“I…need to check something.”
With that he rushes back over and snatched up his satchel…when there he glances at the pile of notes he’d recovered from the wagon, and realizes that someone had already gone through them. Shaking his head, he dashes into the bushes a short distance away from the group.
After a few moments, he returns wearing his only other pair of trousers and with his arms full of stones. Wordlessly, he helps bury Natalie. Though it’s clear that he’s still shaken from whatever happened with the dagger and likely the fact that he’s having to bury one of the few people he could have called a friend.
Amdaeng watched the others build the cairn, as a dwarf the professor likely followed Throff.....Kerellim in their tongue if she recalled her studies properly. Though she suspected that a prayer dedicated to Titan...Throffs father and Lord of the Heavens would not be unappreciated.
As Vydar returned she moved over to him and inspected him for injury, then her eyebrow raised at the change of pants, " Don't worry about it....had to change mine twice before my first cage fight...", she grinned.
Arcana-7
Religion- 5
( My account is currently affected by this- https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/bugs-support/204199-friend-cant-post-on-forums-or-pms so I can only edit existing posts and not make new ones.)
Amdaeng: roll arcana and religion checks.
Iólinder: roll religion check
As you gather to decide on next steps and Vydar’s strange comment and reaction, each of you can roll one survival check.
Paevira survival: 5..
Lev watches the events unfold around him, still standing with that look of disapproval on his face and his arms crossed. His expression doesn't change as Vydar gets up and eventually makes his way off to the woods, or when Iolinder puts the dagger away. However, once Vydar returns and they begin burying Natalie his expression fades to plain weariness before he too moves to help pile rocks. Once that is finished he silently approaches Vydar and holds out Natalie's hat to him, "Here." The dark elf might not have been super close friends with the dwarf, but he is the only one here who knew her much. Lev wouldn't feel right about keeping the hat.
If Vydar doesn't take the hat, he'll just set it on top of the grave.
Sighing, he looks to the cart. From the sound of things everyone is more than ready to start looking for whatever it was Natalie was after. Well, if they are going to be chasing Storm's trail he'd better start fixing the wagon. Since they found the donkey... Charlie, it wouldn't make sense to leave behind such an opportunity.
Survival: 7
Moving towards the cart he mutters under his breath about how to get it out of the water before saying, "Bring the donkey." And gesturing towards the overturned wagon. They will need to pull it out of the riverbank before he can start doing anything with it. Hopefully the wheels are all alright cause if not... well his tools won't do much if more than a few spokes are broken.
'Demon?' Iólinder asked rather quizzically as he watched Vydar walk off to change into a fresh pair of pants. His mind flashed to the dagger tucked away in his backpack. Dark magic was one thing; demonic dark magic was an entire ballpark all together, to the extent that most clergy explicitly forbade anything related to demons and the Pit to be studied or even seen by anyone not of sufficient standing. Of course that never stopped Iólinder...
Religion: 19
Survival: 20
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Iólinder has heard of demonic rituals in which human sacrifice with special daggers is part of the summoning. Getting more information from the embarrassed Vydar and what he experienced may be helpful to you. He clearly "saw" something.
With the group's help and the extra strength of Charlie, you can recover 2 of the 4 wagon wheels and enough wood to construct a primitive two-wheeled cart to carry the large boxes. (Did you want to have Charlie the Donkey pull it or will you design it to pull by hand?)
Iólinder has his doubts that it will survive any difficult mountain trails but it will suffice for now.
You finish burying the professor keeping her belongings out as you decide how to disperse them.
Looking closer at the tracks further from the bridge, you also figure the large group that passed through may have 50 or so humanoids, possibly goblins and several giants. You guess they are 12 hours ahead of you, likely headed in the direction of the Icefinger mountains, bad map in their hands.
(Vydar can add STORMS HAT to your inventory: It's a custom homebrew. Who is taking the magic bolts?)
As the group finish preparations and secure the boxes to the cart, you notice a strange sight, coming from the road behind you from the port.
A person, far off, is running toward you. A small cloud of dust behind him as he seems to be moving at great speed.
As he gets closer you see a young man, in his 20s with black hair, maybe 6 feet tall. He wears travel clothes and carries a backpack. He has more than several sheathed daggers attached to various areas of his body.
Zarbyn: Make a perception roll
(Magic empowering your movement, Zarbyn approaches at a rate 60 feet, the speed of a horse.)
As Zarbyn approaches, he sees a strange sight indeed. Across the covered bridge, a strange assortment of elves and a human tend to a primitive two-wheeled cart. The broken remains of a larger cart lie on the bank of the river. To your left, you see a pile of stones. Clearly, they just buried someone. You do not see any dwarves. They seem a bit disorganized and confused.
(OOC: Group, please describe your appearance to Zarbyn, anything you are doing, and feel free to interact with this new curious individual).
Zarbyn will stop running when he reaches his side of the bridge and call out in a croaking voice, "Hail there!" then proceed to take a drink from his waterskin.
Pausing briefly to take in the scene before him he wonders if this could be a group of bandits. He quickly dismisses that idea as bandits don't usually spend the time to bury those they kill. Seeing mostly elves he begins to fear something almost as dire, perhaps old hatreds came into play and out of respect they just finished burying whoever they killed.
STOP IT! Stop thinking the worse. For all you know they arrived moments before you did. Yeah right, wishful thinking, try talking first, if that doesn't work you can always run away, I doubt they could catch up to me with just a mule.
"Having trouble with your wagon? What happened here? Are there just the five of you then?"
Stupid, stupid, stupid! What are you doing asking rapid-fire questions of them? Instead of trying to run some half-assed investigation from the other side of a bridge try being more friendly, maybe offer help or aid of some kind.
( Paevira snagged the bolts)
Paevira, seeing the speedy fellow on the other side of the bridge and seeing he is alone and does not have a weapon drawn will shout,
“ HELLO THERE FRIEND. IF YOU COME IN PEACE FEEL FREE TO APPROACH “
she will wave, and hope the more surly of her companions do not mind some new company.
Well, the crimson haired elf seems friendly at least, but perhaps her disarming nature is part of a ploy.
(ooc: Zarbyn will begin to walk across the bridge... how long is the bridge?)
"My condolences on your loss," Zarbyn will gesture toward the cairn, "perhaps I can help right your wagon, I have rope." Before he gets half way across the bridge he will take his rope off the side of his backpack and also draw one of his knives to begin cutting a ten foot length. Be careful here, you don't know what their true intentions are yet and the odds are 5 to 1. At least this way you have a weapon in hand if things go south, but if it is an ambush your best bet is to race back across the bridge.
(Bridge is 50 feet across, a fast moving river. Fish jump out constantly Salmon). It appears they are salvaging a 4-wheeled wagon, and building a makeshift 2 wheeled wagon to carry a few large crates. They are almost done. They appear to be somewhat disorganized, and their general mood is almost demoralized. There is a donkey walking around, eating various things.)
(OOC: I logged out of D&D beyond, logged back in, and was able to post on the forum without an error)
'Vydar,' Iólinder said with firm but soft voice, 'you have had a harrowing experience. I will not press you at the moment but could we discuss whatever it it you saw later today? After you've got your bearing.' He gave the elf a smile. 'I would not ask this of you if I did not think it is important.'
With Professor Storm buried and their last respects given, the group prepared to venture forth. There was a plan and with the maps and journal pages in hand they could continue Professor's dream. But before any of that could happen, they needed to address the person, a human from the looks of it, running full speed at them.
Paevira addressed the stranger in what Iólinder could by now only describe as "in her Paevirian manner." For his part he slid his arm through the leather strap of his shield and gripped the handle. The guy was decked out in knives and after everything Iólinder had seen in the past hour, he was not taking any chances.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Paevira will the first to meet the newcomer ensuring she is in between him and the group if something were to go awry.
When Amdaeng approaches him, Vydar's lips tighten and he gives her a flat look before turning away from her. "I don't think that's something to brag about," He grumbles, refusing to look at the woman's grinning face.
Survival: 18
The young elf stands over the finished grave staring into nothingness. He jumps slightly when Lev walks over and gruffly shoves the hat in his direction. This shakes him out of whatever thought's he'd been lost in, and he takes the hat. Staring at it for a moment, he considers what he should actually do with it. Part of him wants to place it on the so far unmarked grave, but the rest of him tells him she wouldn't want it to rot with her corpse. He grimaces at that morbid thought, then opts for placing the hat neatly in his satchel alongside his grimoire. Once he does this he walks over to Charlie to stroke the donkey's neck while watching the others start working on the cart. As he does so, his heart can't decide if the animal's presence is calming or only making his negative emotions worse.
He frowns noticing Iolinder starting to walk over. Despite this, he doesn't take his eyes of Charlie, pretending he didn't notice the half-elf's approach. He's not sure he likes that tone, it makes him feel like a child...though he'd be considered one to other elves. After a moment, he turns his sour expression towards the older man, "Yeah whatever, but I do want that...thing...back eventually. Now that I know what it is I'm sure I can safely study it farther." His frown deepens, "I also noticed that someone read Natalie's notes and at least looked at the ones in that other language. You look like the only one here who could have read those, so if you did I want to know what they said."
The young elf may have said more, if not for the sudden arrival of another human. Vydar gives the man a flat look as he starts jabbering of questions, the answers to which shouldn't be any of this guy's business in the dark elf's book. The guy seems jumpy, and from experience, Vydar can tell he's not just getting that knife out to cut rope. He's surrounded by strangers, and now he feels cornered. The thought makes the young elf smirk. At least the guy has some sense.
Vydar is a slim, but well built young man with a roguish look to him. His shaggy black hair fades to white at the tips, and occasionally covers his dark red eyes. He is tall for an elf, and wears a tattered scarf around his neck. He carries no weapons other than a banged up dagger, though he has a traveler's pack and a satchel that hangs at his side. His clothing is dark in color and is rather worn.
( Damian_Mays backup account- My account is currently buggered like quite a few others and when I post or PM I get this- " You can only make 1 post every 1 sec.") I have reported and will try and muddle through until they can fix. No go on the suggested fix, but thanks.)
Lev grumbles as he begins working on the new cart, finding that the old one is beyond repair. "I told him to bring the donkey..." he mutters under his breath as he hammers one wheel into place. "...Don't need it now anyways..." he continues muttering as he finishes up the cart, ignoring whatever conversations are going on around him, though still completely aware of Vydar and Iolinder talking about the dagger. He can't really blame the dark elf. The fellow doesn't seem like the type who would be easily frightened, so whatever he saw in that vision had to have been bad. "Still..." he mutters something unintelligible, looking towards the old wreckage in search of anything he can use to better their newer yet more primitive vehicle.
He doesn't seem to pay much attention as someone comes racing towards them only to stop and shout at them from the other side of the bridge. He's engrossed in his work after all, so it isn't until the stranger actually starts approaching that he looks up at him. Zarbyn would see an elf with grey skin and green eyes looking at him from over the edge of the primitive cart. The elf has a weary and rather grumpy expression, likely not helped by the fact they just buried someone. His hair is white, though there is some black visible at his scalp, and he's wearing black leather armor, a light tan undershirt, and a silver amulet that stands out starkly against the rest of his well worn outfit. A glaive rests against a nearby bolder alongside a pack with a longbow, quiver, and light crossbow. These likely belong to this... dark elf? No... Black elf, even though he is also armed with a saber.
Seeing the stranger approaching and... cutting a rope? As if that's not obvious. What do you need rope for in this situation? In spite of the offer of help, Lev leans forward over the cart and says, "What do you want? You look like you're going to wet yourself." He clearly doesn't see this newcomer as a threat, whether because it would be five against one or because this human looks like a mouse backed into a corner is up for anyone's guess. Regardless, it's pretty obvious by his posture that he has no intention of jumping Zarbyn...but he also doesn't seem to be the most welcoming member of the party either.
He does perk up a little as Paevira approaches first, suddenly eyeing Zarbyn with a look that says 'you better not do anything with that knife or you'll regret it.' Though he doesn't move from his position, knowing that if something did happen he could be over there in a flash...