"A little longer," Mydri replies, "just after the full moon. They were headed in the opposite direction at the time, but I don't know more than that. I was going north then, but they could have later turned in any other direction."
Mydri isn't particularly impressed by Arren's empty promise of help. "Don't worry about it. Either I'll find what I'm searching for, or I won't. Amnesia - that is, loss of memory - is usually caused by some trauma. If it's physical trauma which led to my unconscious state, then I'd like to remember who I am. But otherwise, perhaps I'm better off this way? If this really is a result of, as you believe, the work of someone else. Did they do it to hurt me, or was it my own request to forget?"
Mydri thanks Arren's offer to help in Pyorre, but at least at the moment, it sounds more like she's trying to be polite than that she truly intends to ask for his assistance, or Samira's. She'll then let Arren escort her back to her tent, where she'll briefly bid him good night and disappear inside.
Arren can get a rope around the scale, even tying it to his hand, but that configuration, he decides, won't be of use in battle. First, it takes him too long to tie the scale in this way, and strong knots that could actually hold against stronger blows will take a long time to undo. But beyond this minor difficulty, if a blow he deflects happens to cut the rope, the improvised shield could fall and cease to function entirely.
It takes Arren quite a long time to fall asleep. Much longer than it usually takes him. Several times, the idea to abandon the attempt to salvage as much sleep time as he can arises in Arren's mind, but each time, he pushes the idea aside. Slowly, he can feel his body relax, getting heavier, but his mind remains conscious. He has an itch, an unbearable itch, but he ignores it with sheer willpower. Eventually, after a long time, Arren starts losing consciousness of his surroundings, but remains conscious of himself. He feels himself lying down, but is it in his bedroll, or on a soft bed of grass and flowers? He hears the wind outside, but outside what exactly? Is Arren not in the open?
It doesn't take long before Arren finds himself in a field of flowers, just as he imagined while he was awake. Indeed, Arren is no longer awake. Perhaps a little disappointed, Arren realises that he is not aware of the area around his body, as the Elves describe their trance. If someone quietly entered his tent now, he'd have no idea. And yet, Arren is fully aware of not being awake. If he is asleep, then this must be a dream.
In recognising that he is dreaming, Arren achieves a state of lucidity. Please, describe what Arren experiences in this dream, and in particular, in the first moments of realising he is dreaming. Don't describe Arren waking up yet.
Wearing the magical trousers, Bryn finds that their size matches him perfectly. But beyond that, he feels a little light on his feet.
Bryn simply nods in return to the Sergeant, a little relieved that he didn't want to delve into other subjects. It had been a long day, and he is eager to turn in.
After Trance
Bryn isn't surprised that the trousers fit him perfectly, they had pretty much worked out that they would do that back in the cave. He does walk around a little, wondering if that was all they did. He also checks the pockets to see if they are empty, and even puts his hand through the one with the hole to see whether it would cause him much of a problem letting the cold in.
Seeing as it is still dark, he decides to wear them for a while longer, even though it looks a little odd now with his soldiers boots, leather armour and overcoat, Otis's shirt and now these dirty looking cargo pants.
It would be nice to be just one person, outside and in, but I have taken up so many roles...
He does get the feeling of being lighter on his feet as well, which he wants to explore. He jumps on the spot, as if trying to keep warm. I don't want to look too odd, after all.
It is a strange feeling, Arrenthinks, as he sits amid the grass and flowers.
He looks down at his right hand and closes it into a fist, then opens it again, several times. He feels the movement clearly, and yet, at the same time, he is aware of his body lying on its back in the tent, that same hand resting motionless against the floor.
Here, his muscles do not ache, and he does not feel the exhaustion from which his physical body is recovering at the slow rate his human half demands.
It is strange… and yet, he finds that he is enjoying it.
The sky above him is neither day nor night, but a pale, opalescent sky, like light seen through misted glass. The air—he realizes—had not been there a moment ago. It seems to have formed only once he thought to look for it. It is warm, and it carries the scent of fresh grass.
Wanting to feel the air more fully, he unbuttons his shirt slightly, letting the fabric fall looser against his chest. This is his dream. Here, he does not need his armor or clothing perfectly fastened, nor does he need to obey the ever-present rules of military etiquette.
After a moment, Arren stands and begins to walk, at first without any clear direction. The grass and flowers do not bend or break beneath his weight, which draws a faint smile to his face. Then he notices the lake. When he reaches it, he dips his hand into the water, expecting it to be crisp and cold, but finding it warm instead.
What he wouldn't give for a proper bath, and perhaps a swim as well ...
The hole shouldn't cause too much problem with cold, since the pocket's outer layer covers it. It's just located in the unfortunate position that anything small enough in the pocket will fall through. Fortunately, there are five other pockets, perfectly intact.
Walking around, Bryn feels very light on his feet. It's as if his legs are stronger, but also nimble. While hopping, Bryn is fortunate to attempt a very small jump at first, as he ends up jumping way higher than he intended. It might require some time to adjust if he doesn't want to accidentally jump off a cliff one day. (Check the item in your inventory, it has been updated.)
Arren had just reached to test the water. Whether or not he intended to commit to his wish for a swim, before he does that, he feels something strange. He's not alone. An intrusion into his dream, a trespasser has appeared, and they're standing right behind him. "What in the world do you think you're doing?!" It is a feminine voice, but not the same as last time. This one isn't familiar. It isn't honeyed. It's neither pleasant nor unpleasant. If Arren tries turning around, he has no trouble doing as he pleases.
A woman stands behind Arren. About a metre away. She doesn't look like a Human, nor quite like an Elf, yet she's too tall to be a Dwarf, a Halfling or a Gnome. Certainly not a Drow. Her skin tone is brown, bordering on orange. A little like cinnamon (saigon, for the orange hue). Although it gives a natural feeling, Arren doesn't recall seeing anyone with this skin tone before. Her hair, on the other hand, is a bright yellow, like a daffodil, and reaches about to her armpits. She wears a bright green toga and a chaplet of colourful flowers and leaves on her head. Arren notices her feet are bare, but most of his attention is currently elsewhere, as she looks furious.
"You just had to come here, didn't you? Ruin my year. And what did I ever do to hurt you, huh? Nothing, I tell you. Nothing. I didn't even know who you were before you came here." She steps forward, getting closer. Arren notices she's a little shorter than he is. "And after all that, you show up again as if to sow salt on my wounds. Why? Are you happy now? Well? You'd better be, because the thing you just did cannot be undone. I hope you're ready, the road ahead of you is going to be a thorny one, whether you like it or not. But don't come looking for me when you need help, I wouldn't help you even if I could. I just wanted you to look me in the eyes and tell me why you did it. Did she make you do this? I hope she at least told you what you're getting yourself into. Oh, she'll hear from me... Well, will you answer?"
She's now standing about as close to Arren as she can without touching him, leaving no direction to avoid her other than away and into the water, looking up straight into his eyes with an accusing look, waiting for an answer.
After his small jump turned bigger than expected, Bryn stands still for a moment. Ok, that will need some testing at some point.
He decides to sit for now and get used to the feel of the new trousers in a more stationary position. At least until the sun is up and they are on their way. Assuming he will be on his way, of course.
He sits by the fire wondering what the day will bring.
Arrenturns at once, taking a step back in reflex, and immediately steps into the water for the second time that day. At least this time it is warm and far more pleasant than what his physical body experienced in the plant-fish pond.
It takes him a moment to answer. First, because he is taking in the sight of the woman before him, whose features he's never seen before. And second, because he cannot help but wonder what terrible thing he must have done, in this life or a previous one, for every woman he meets to either command him, mock him, sound disappointed in him, or be outright furious. Would it be so much to ask for one of them to simply be nice?
He raises his hands slightly, palms open.
"For what it's worth, I’m sorry. But I honestly don't know what I've done to wrong you. I don't even know who you are, nor who the other woman was, for that matter. I didn't even get to see her, though her voice was oddly familiar."
Arren is about to add that, whoever they are, they certainly seem fond of intruding into his dreams as if they were their own playground. But one more look at her expression makes him bite his tongue.
"If you would please explain what is going on? Who are you? And who was the other woman? You may not know me, but the other seem to know me very well."
Arren draws a slow breath, steadying himself, and then adds, "To answer your question: she told me that if I ever wanted to speak to her again, I should bring her a better dream. A nice, quiet, grass-covered hill, she said. So that's what I tried to do. How has that hurt you?"
And second, because he cannot help but wonder what terrible thing he must have done, in this life or a previous one, for every woman he meets to either command him, mock him, sound disappointed in him, or be outright furious. Would it be so much to ask for one of them to simply be nice?
Haha, I thought you might say that. Tough luck, Arren. Maybe next time.
"Oh, you don't know? What's this then?" She raises her hand, holding a bronze plate. No, not a bronze plate, but the bronze-like scale Arren had claimed not too long ago, when he was awake. She then lets go of the plate, which, instead of falling, begins to hover in place. She wipes her hand on the cloth of her toga as if the scale is somehow filthy, polluted, although it seems perfectly clean to Arren.
Then, the woman takes a step back. "You know what? Nevermind. If I knew you'd just be playing dumb, I wouldn't have bothered. I won't bother you again, so enjoy the rest of your dream." She turns away and takes another step away from Arren before stopping momentarily. "But if you really don't know what I'm talking about, then next time my scheming, intolerable sister talks to you, don't listen. No matter what she offers you, I suggest you ignore her. She never works for free." The woman takes another step, and suddenly, she disperses into a collection of leaves that are blown away by a soft gust of wind. A final message, seemingly carried by the wind, reaches Arren's ears only after the woman is already gone. "Otherwise, imagine fewer flowers."
Arren's dream can from here proceed as normal dreams, even if lucid. No other voice talks to him during this night.
Arrenis left alone in the dream he had so carefully shaped. One that had somehow managed to enrage ... who, exactly? Was that a manifestation of Gaitha herself? At least, that's what the soldier has imagined seeing her disgust when she touched the dragon scale. Then who's her sister? Aleshi?
I must be losing my mind.I really need time off.
The dream lasts for a bit longer, and he takes that time to have a moment of quiet to himself. No anger, no fights, no lies, no nothing. Just the Half-Elf with himself, and the quietness of the lake.
When he finally wakes, the words slip from him almost without thinking. "No more flowers," he mutters. "Not many. Not fewer. None at all." Perhaps that way no one will ever enter his dreams again, and he won't ever feel watched either.
Before leaving the tent, he picks up the dragon scale again. He turns it in his hands, studying it carefully. It's supposed to hover, he realizes. She made it look effortless. Natural. As if the scale had always known how to obey her. Was he meant to do that too?
"Are you meant to listen?" he murmurs. He hesitates, then exhales softly. "Maybe you need a name."
He thinks for a moment, then nods to himself. "Aegis."He had read that name in a book long ago, as a boy, and he'd liked it.
He holds the scale out in front of him. "Aegis… hover."
If nothing works, he repeats the command in every language he knows. If it still doesn't work, he closes his eyes and simply tries to will it with his mind. No words, no gestures. Just intent.
Whatever the result, Arren sets the scale aside with the rest of his belongings. There are other pressing matters. He leaves the tent in search of the Commandant and the Lieutenant. They need to see what is going to happen with the gold and the bandits, and he wants to tell them about Mydri. He'll wait for everyone to be present —even their former companion— to speak of that.
Before Arren releases the scale, it will remain in Arren's hands, seemingly unresponsive to Arren's commands. If Arren tries everything he described without ever releasing the scale, he might even feel a little awkward talking to seemingly inanimate objects. If, when he finishes, Arren straps it to something or places it in his bag without ever letting go of the scale, then the scale will remain inert, and nothing will happen.
But if instead, at some point, even after his first attempt, Arren releases the scale, and nothing holds it down, the scale will start hovering at about the height of Arren's shoulder, rising and descending as needed to match that height. It will move along with Arren, staying at a relatively fixed position to him as Arren walks, such that Arren believes it could - in theory - block incoming attacks while allowing Arren to use both hands for... anything. Some testing might be necessary to see if the scale really functions as a shield. Does it move around if something attacks Arren from behind, or if Arren wants to attack something in front of him?
After about a minute, or if Arren reaches to grab Aegis again, it will fall into Arren's hands.
((The item is updated in your sheet. Activation takes a Bonus Action, but I leave it up to you how you want to play that out. If Arren releases the shield after his first command, he may very well be convinced that it is necessary for activation. However, in case it ever becomes relevant, all you need to activate the shield is a free hand with which to grab it and raise it into the air.))
Outside, a little before dawn, Bryn notices movement in the camp. He sees a group of bandits heading to the excavation site, led by Lann. If he follows them, he'll see Nohem standing by the entrance to the crack, a wooden crate full of gold by his feet. The bandits work to clear the sarcophagus and its surroundings of any coins and gems, loading them separately into the crates previously used to clear dirt, and hauling them outside to lay in an ordered row. It would have been unpleasant staying there the other day, but the skies had cleared during the night, and the wind ceased to blow. By the time the sun rises, they are not even halfway through, but Nohem sends one of the Elves to wake the Human bandits up, who soon come to help as well. Seeing them all together, Bryn would realise there are more bandits than he thought*, but they all seem to work for this purpose now.
At some point, Commandant Nattensbarn arrives, accompanied by the Lieutenant whom she pulled out of Mydri's tent. She asks Nohem what he's doing, and Nohem replies that to split the gold as they agreed, they'll have to first see just how much of it there is. The Commandant, along with the Lieutenant, stay there to make sure the bandits don't do anything except exactly that.
As more people rise with the sun, so do some workers, and at some point, Arren too, after experimenting with Aegis. The gathering of the bandits, not too far from camp, catches the attention of the workers. And once one of them catches the glint of gold, they are soon all on their feet - including women and children whom Arren and Bryn previously barely saw - and gathered around the treasure, which quickly piles into more and more crates. Once the Commandant promises the workers that it will be split with them, the workers stand and simply gaze in awe at the great amount of gold. A handful decide to help to hasten the process, but most enjoy seeing others work. Even if some of said others have been working with them all the time as bandits under cover.
Not everyone is present. The sick could not leave their tent even if they wanted to, and Mydri tends to them already. One of the cooks remains to watch the breakfast over the fire. Radis never left his tent, and if someone asks Nevesta, she'll say he likes to oversleep. Lastly, Arren and Bryn are, of course, free to act as they wish. (If Bryn never followed the bandits, he'll see this all from a distance in less detail, but he gets the idea pretty soon.)
By the end, the bandits gathered the gold into twelve equally sized crates, almost full, each containing hundreds of coins, surely, and one barrel, half-full of various gems. Once everything is gathered, Nohem divides the crates according to the split that was decided the previous night. Six to the bandits, four to the workers, split evenly among them, and two to the Commandant's crew. The gems are then spread similarly between the three groups. Most of the workers, even those who came from a more wealthy background, are so shocked at the fortune that fell into their hands that none ever mentions the uneven division.
"This all has worth beyond the material it's made of," the Commandant whispers to the Lieutenant and anyone else around, frustrated by seeing such an important find distributed to people who will, most likely, melt the gold to fashion it into jewellery or normal coins. "I'd offer them regular gold instead, but we barely have anything left already."
Bryn does follow Lann up to the excavation site, finding a perch to sit and watch as the bandits do the heavy lifting. It is amazing how motivated they are given the right incentive.
He does notice the absence of Radis when the humans are called upon to help, but doesn't push the issue when Nevesta mentions that he likes to oversleep.
Unlike everyone else, he has no idea what is going to happen with the gold and gems. The soldiers have a share, of course, but whether the Commandant will include him in that is unknown. And he still doesn't know whether he will be leaving with the soldiers as well.
Some time before the end of sorting, he will head back down to the camp and sit by the fire. There he will await his fate, contemplating how this started as a gift from Gaitha and yet all the evidence pointed to the fact that the Goddess really didn't want this place found and looted. Why else protect it so forcefully?
He will also wander over to the cook that remained.
"It is quite the scene at the excavation site, but I will confess a hot meal is almost as appealing as all that gold. If you could spare a portion, I would be happy to help. I don't know much about cooking, but I can follow instructions when I choose to, which I will of course", he says with a little chuckle.
"Fascinating." Arren watches the scale hover, clearly impressed now that he has figured out how it works. Of course, that woman hadn't given any verbal command. She had simply let the scale fall from her hand. He will need to test it further to truly get the hang of it, but a hovering shield opens a wide range of possibilities. For one, he could wield his longsword with both hands, striking harder without the constant strain of supporting a shield on his arm.
Once outside, he does not comment on the Commandant's frustration over the gold. He is simply glad the workers will receive their share—something to compensate for the days they spent effectively held captive, to help Mydri establish herself in Pyorre, to allow the sick to buy whatever medicine they may need, and, in general, to give people a chance to get back on their feet.
He does ask, however, "What are we going to do with our share?"
When he notices the black-haired magician leaving the excavation site, Arren decides not to avoid the issue any longer. "We'll be leaving soon, won't we?' he says. "We should also address the matter of…" He hesitates, refusing to say Otis, as he doesn't want to use yet another false name. "…our former companion. And there's also Mydri."
He pauses, making sure no one nearby is listening.
"I spoke to her last night. She's lost much of her memory. She showed me a charcoal drawing of herself, a man, and a toddler. Her family, apparently. But she doesn't remember them at all. She didn't even remember her own name until I asked her a couple of nights ago." He exhales slowly. "At first, it reminded me of Emma, but it doesn't seem to be the same kind of thing. This could be the result of trauma rather than deliberate tampering. Still…"
He hesitates again.
"She told me she crossed paths with a pale, black-haired Levickan Elf, not that long ago. He wasn't alone. There was a large figure with him, heavily armored. They were tending to an injured bird, a crow or a raven, and Mydri helped them."
Another pause.
"It could be an entirely different Elf," Arren admits. "But it's a coincidence I don't like."
He lets that sit for a moment before adding, "We should probably discuss this with our magician acquaintance. Especially if he will keep traveling with us."
Bryn finds the cook mostly just watching the fire. Porridge doesn't require much work at this point. But if Bryn insists, the cook will allow Bryn to stir occasionally to make sure the bottom doesn't burn. Otherwise, they seem more interested in the gathering of people near the entrance to the crack.
"We won't use it for ourselves, if that's what you're asking." Commandant Nattensbarn doesn't look like she intends to elaborate, at first, but after a few moments, she adds: "But maybe I can convince them to give you a bonus for your hard work."
When Arren brings up the matter of the no-longer-Tace and Mydri, the Commandant just listens and then stays silent for a bit. "We probably should," she repeats, but doesn't take any action to pursue this course of action for a little longer. "It feels like everything was simpler before Tus. Is his arrival the cause, or simply another effect?"
Without waiting for an answer, the Commandant turns around, facing the camp. "Take our share with you, we're going to the carriage. Lieutenant, stay and guard the carriage while we're gone. I don't trust these people not to get greedy. Sergeant, after you carry the gold, go call the... go call him. I'll start preparing Choco and Mocha, so don't take too long. We're far behind schedule already. I'll want to hear about Mydri's story... but not now. Unless you're sure the matter is pressing."
From there, she'll head to the carriage, expecting Arren to follow her lead, and after locking away the gold and gems safely, she'll start tending to the horses.
"Everything was definitely simpler before Tus" Arren agrees. No fake companions. No Breithe Staidear. No women turned into killing machines. Quiet dreams. And the list goes on.
"We can talk about Mydri on the way,"he adds, then begins doing as instructed, heading toward the excavation site to collect the two crates that now belong to the soldiers.
Arren offers a quiet nod to the bandits present—especially Lann, Nafnlaus, and Akvedinn. It's not friendship, nothing like that, but fighting the plant-men side by side has forged a small bond between them. A thin one, perhaps, but real enough. He offers the same gesture to Nevesta, if she is there as well, hoping she has recovered from her wounds.
What will these people do now? he asks himself. Will they leave the site for good? Scatter and keep pillaging around the mountain pass?
He exchanges a few words with the workers he spent the most time with—for example, Hugo and the Elf who used to work alongside him—wishing them well on their journey home. And, if he spots Mydri somewhere in the camp, Arren will give her a brief wave from afar. Nothing intrusive. Just a silent farewell.
Then, without wasting any more time—he knows better than to keep the Commandant waiting—he stores the gold and gems in the carriage.
Once that's done, he goes to look for their Elven acquaintance. He finds him near the cook and simply tells him, "We're ready to leave," gesturing him toward where the Commandant is preparing Choco and Mocha.
“It seems you will be able to afford your own cook, and other servants, once you leave here. It is quite the sum of gold”, Bryn says to the cook as he stirs and she eyes the great counting site.
How long will any of these people keep their share once word gets out about what they have. Even the Commandant will need to be quick to avoid an even bigger target on her carriages back.
He takes his prize for helping once the porridge is ready, perhaps eating it as the Sergeant delivers his curt message.
He stands and walks over to clean his bowl. “Thanks, and good luck to you all”, he says to the cook.
When he is done he gathers his things and turns back to the Sergeant, assuming he waited.
”Ok, I am ready to leave, too. Let’s go and find out if I will be joining you”, he says.
The Sergeant will notice he is wearing the trousers from the cave, and he has replaced his uniform top with a nicer quality one. He still wears the boots, leather armour and overcoat that once belonged to the corporal though.
As they walk he will engage in idle chat, “At least the weather has improved”.
Arren has indeed waited. When the Elf mentions the weather, his eyes lift briefly toward the sky. "It will make the journey easier, fortunately."
He does not respond to the remark about finding out whether the Elf will be joining them. If the Commandant asked to fetch him, then the decision is likely already made. Besides, Arren doubts she would pass up the chance to have the book translated on the road to Pyorre.
Noticing that the Elf is wearing the trousers from the cave, Arren makes an effort to engage in the conversation. It does not come easily, but if they are to keep travelling together, he knows it is necessary.
"Have you figured out what those do?" he asks, nodding toward the trousers. "The pants, I mean. The scale seems that can function as a shield. Turns out it can hover and move along with me for a while, leaving both my hands free. I'll still need someone to add a couple of straps, though. Otherwise carrying it the rest of the time will be… inconvenient."
Bryn is surprised that the Sergeant engages in the conversation, and with more substance than his own attempt. Pleased though.
He nods in response, "I have found that they make me lighter on my feet. Or perhaps make my legs stronger. It is hard to tell, but I can move more freely, and although I haven't tried it, I believe I could jump a serious distance if I were to try. The aesthetics are odd, but I have thought on that. It might be a vain hope, but perhaps they blend in to the surroundings. An excavation site would suit dirty multi-pocketed trousers, don't you think. Otherwise, I fear I will stand out when not on some kind of building site". He chuckles at the thought.
He thinks for a moment on the scale.
"That is quite amazing, and certainly a great boon to the way you fight. You will be even more formidable", he says, deadly serious with not a hint of sarcasm. "Might I caution you though. Perhaps straps can be added in some kind of harness setup, but they would surely be at risk of breaking unless something permanent were done. Don't damage the scale. I would likely not even want to alter the weight of it, in case it reduces its ability to function. Perhaps instead have a pouch fashioned to store it in when not in use, that can be strapped to your back. Just a thought".
He looks down at the Sergeants trousers and boots, expecting he might have changed the trousers, but possibly not the boots. If either are still wet, he will say, "Must be uncomfortable still being wet. I can help with that with if you'd like".
"That is useful. Maybe you are right and the aspect adapts to the surroundings. I guess we will see that once we begin the journey. They might turn stone-gray when we are in the mountain pass." He pauses. "And if it doesn't, well… it's not like us soldiers are dressed in fancy clothes, or that we'll find ourselves at a grand ball anytime soon."
Arren is caught off guard when the Elf praises his fighting skills. He scratches the back of his neck a bit, then says, "Hmm, you're right. I wouldn't want the scale to be damaged. If I can find a pouch that lets me retrieve it quickly enough, that should be enough." He pauses, then adds, "It's quite amazing. I only had to let it fall from my hand for it to hover. Makes one wonder what the ring, the circlet and the glove can do."
When the Elf offers to help with his boots, Arren looks at him in confusion at first. But if magic can alter memories, change one's aspect or translate dead languages, why wouldn't it be able to dry a soldier's wet boots? He watches with interest as the man works his spell, and when a small waterfall suddenly pours from the leather and his feet grow warm and comfortable, Arren blinks, clearly impressed.
It is clear as the sky that this small kindness has made Arren's morning noticeably better.
Arren will see Nevesta among the rest of the bandits and notice that her injuries are healed. No injury like what she suffered could naturally heal this fast, but he may recall her request of Radis the other night, which was refused at the time.
Since it seems Bryn and Arren took their time, the carriage is ready by the time they get there. But instead of being impetient as she'd usually be, the two find the Commandant brushing Choco's fur with a small wooden brush. She doesn't stop when she sees them, even as she starts talking. "You put me in a tough spot, you know. You have proven again that, at least if you choose to be an ally, you can be dependable in a life-or-death situation. I saw for myself several of your supernatural abilities too, and you claim to have more, albeit ones for which I have no methods for validation. These abilities might be useful, if the Lieutenant's theories turn out to be true.
"But put simply, I cannot trust you. You kept asking for a guarantee that my word will be kept, but I don't even know your name. No, rather, even if Otis is your real name, or even if you now tell me a different name and claim it to be true, I have no reason to trust that it is. I don't know what drives you, and I don't believe a noble cause like helping Emma could really drive a man to risk everything, when the hope of helping her is based on a load of 'if', 'perhaps' and 'maybe'. But maybe I'm wrong, and you don't think you're risking that much?
"Speaking of which, have you considered the risks that I'll be taking if I let you ride along? Imagine a perfect scenario where all of the Lieutenant's guesses turn out to be correct, and in which you genuinely intend to help for no motive other than helping Emma out, and perhaps some monetary compensation. We put aside all risks of your betrayal - perhaps - and all of the possible benefits of asking you to ride along are likely to be fulfilled. Even then, have you considered that I'll be knowingly allowing a man who escaped prison, whom I believe is a Levickan spy - a former one at the very least - to enter Pyorre? I can't justify that to anyone, and if you're caught, I am bound to lose a lot more than you do."
She finally stops brushing Choco's fur and turns around to face Bryn directly. "I'll be taking a greater risk than you imagine, allowing you to ride along. Tell me, should I do it? Why?"
“Oh, I think we are both in a bit of a tough spot here, I don’t doubt that. I had not expected the Lieutenant to be so pragmatic in truth, although he possibly has his own reasons, with his impending retirement and return to Mey perhaps colouring his judgement. Or perhaps just providing him with greater clarity”, Bryn replies, looking to the Lieutenant if he is present, and giving him a small smile to show his appreciation no matter the reason.
“I asked for your word because during the time I have been with you, I have come to see you as an honourable person. The same goes for the Sergeant and the Lieutenant. If you gave your word, I would believe you, which I understand is not reciprocated”, he explains. “I think I was clear that Otis is not my name, but that is beside the point right now. The main point is that you do not know me. You don’t know what drives me or why I do what I do or have done what I have done. You have made assumptions that, although rational, I think you are realising are likely not true”, he continues, trying to find the right words to express himself properly in this moment.
“I told you all when you interrogated me whilst I was in the tent, that what I tell you will be the truth, and although I understand your skepticism, I can assure you I have honoured my word. As you have acknowledged, I have stood by you when my life was on the line, and I have used my skills and abilities openly. And with sensitivity towards your mistrust or lack of understanding right now about those abilities”, he says, then sighs.
“Oh, I am quite willing to lie and cheat to serve my purposes, I own that completely. But that does not mean I am without honour. I would not even have classed myself as dangerous before I left Tus. Until I met you three, I had never taken another life or inflicted serious physical harm on another person, nor did I intend to. Family drives me. Knowledge drives me. Keeping a promise drives me. Being free drives me”, he says rather passionately now.
“I am far from home, far from family, my freedom on the line, so what is there left? Knowledge and a promise made that I cannot keep without your help”.
He digs in his pack and pulls out Emil’s bow, uncovering it carefully, almost reverently. Slowly revealing the dark orange-brown wood covered with ornamental carvings and glyphs that is no longer broken in two, but whole. He looks briefly to the Sergeant expecting to see outrage.
“Emma granted my request to take her father’s bow and she didn’t turn me in when she knew I was an imposter. For my part, I promised her my intention was to go to Pyorre, to deliver Tace Peite’s belongings to his wife and child and tell his wife what happened. I take that promise seriously. And I believe it is the right thing to do anyway. I am far from proud of what I did to escape Tus. And yes, I want to help Emma. But I also just want to know what happened to her. I want to know how it is possible that she is the way she is. I want to know what knowledge Breithe Staidear acquired that has two countries searching for him, according to your own account, Commandant”.
“You think me a spy, or a former spy. In truth I was merely a fall guy. A pawn. I won’t be used like that again. I don’t want to follow this trail for anyone but myself”, he says with brutal candour.
“You ask if you should allow me to ride with you. All I can tell you is that if you play fair by me, I will play fair by you. We share some goals and we share the risk, and we will have to trust each other. I have lived in your world for a little while now, and I have changed because of it. If you really want to do this, you will have to spend some time in my world. You will have to be willing to bend the truth to the point of breaking and beyond. It sounds as if you don’t trust your superiors, or perhaps it is they who don’t trust you. Perhaps both. There is certainly politics at play here, and you are smart enough to know that politics and honour are not compatible bedfellows”.
He pauses momentarily allowing his words to sink in, before adding, "So what is it to be, Commandant?".
Arrentakes a few steps back the moment Commandant Nattensbarn begins speaking, knowing that—for now—this is a conversation that needs to happen between her and the black-haired Elf. He listens attentively, arms folded and silent, standing next to Lieutenant Tireur.
The Elf is right to expect outrage on Arren's face the moment he unfolds Emil's bow ... but it doesn't last. Inwardly, Arren forces himself to breathe and keep listening. He knows the Commandant has been put in a difficult position and wants her to make the best decision she can. Not influencing her with his own anger—whether justified or not—feels like the most useful thing he can do for her right now.
He tries to ignore the bow and focus instead on what their former companion is saying. What drives him. Family. Freedom. A promise. The words echo close to home. Arren then thinks of Radis, of what he had said about his reason for joining the bandits, and how that admission had unsettled him. How it had made him realize that bandits or not, they weren't so different from them, the soldiers, after all. Now, he is having that same feeling again.
There is a flash of doubt, though. Am I being too soft? Am I trying to make this work when it shouldn't? And why?
His thoughts drift to the time he and the “Corporal” had spent together. There had been a connection. A sense of companionship. A feeling that this was someone he could rely on—much like felt with Walnuts. Even wrapped in lies, there had been something real there. Hadn't there?
Arren exhales softly and unfolds his arms. He doesn't know what the Commandant will decide, and he doesn't know how to ease the burden of what she would risk if she chose to let the Elf accompany them. But he knows he has to say something.
He looks at the Elf, meeting his gaze, and says something he wouldn't have believed himself capable of the day before. Something he says simply because it feels true.
"A little longer," Mydri replies, "just after the full moon. They were headed in the opposite direction at the time, but I don't know more than that. I was going north then, but they could have later turned in any other direction."
Mydri isn't particularly impressed by Arren's empty promise of help. "Don't worry about it. Either I'll find what I'm searching for, or I won't. Amnesia - that is, loss of memory - is usually caused by some trauma. If it's physical trauma which led to my unconscious state, then I'd like to remember who I am. But otherwise, perhaps I'm better off this way? If this really is a result of, as you believe, the work of someone else. Did they do it to hurt me, or was it my own request to forget?"
Mydri thanks Arren's offer to help in Pyorre, but at least at the moment, it sounds more like she's trying to be polite than that she truly intends to ask for his assistance, or Samira's. She'll then let Arren escort her back to her tent, where she'll briefly bid him good night and disappear inside.
Arren can get a rope around the scale, even tying it to his hand, but that configuration, he decides, won't be of use in battle. First, it takes him too long to tie the scale in this way, and strong knots that could actually hold against stronger blows will take a long time to undo. But beyond this minor difficulty, if a blow he deflects happens to cut the rope, the improvised shield could fall and cease to function entirely.
It takes Arren quite a long time to fall asleep. Much longer than it usually takes him. Several times, the idea to abandon the attempt to salvage as much sleep time as he can arises in Arren's mind, but each time, he pushes the idea aside. Slowly, he can feel his body relax, getting heavier, but his mind remains conscious. He has an itch, an unbearable itch, but he ignores it with sheer willpower. Eventually, after a long time, Arren starts losing consciousness of his surroundings, but remains conscious of himself. He feels himself lying down, but is it in his bedroll, or on a soft bed of grass and flowers? He hears the wind outside, but outside what exactly? Is Arren not in the open?
It doesn't take long before Arren finds himself in a field of flowers, just as he imagined while he was awake. Indeed, Arren is no longer awake. Perhaps a little disappointed, Arren realises that he is not aware of the area around his body, as the Elves describe their trance. If someone quietly entered his tent now, he'd have no idea. And yet, Arren is fully aware of not being awake. If he is asleep, then this must be a dream.
In recognising that he is dreaming, Arren achieves a state of lucidity. Please, describe what Arren experiences in this dream, and in particular, in the first moments of realising he is dreaming. Don't describe Arren waking up yet.
Wearing the magical trousers, Bryn finds that their size matches him perfectly. But beyond that, he feels a little light on his feet.
Varielky | Werhann
Before Trance
Bryn simply nods in return to the Sergeant, a little relieved that he didn't want to delve into other subjects. It had been a long day, and he is eager to turn in.
After Trance
Bryn isn't surprised that the trousers fit him perfectly, they had pretty much worked out that they would do that back in the cave. He does walk around a little, wondering if that was all they did. He also checks the pockets to see if they are empty, and even puts his hand through the one with the hole to see whether it would cause him much of a problem letting the cold in.
Seeing as it is still dark, he decides to wear them for a while longer, even though it looks a little odd now with his soldiers boots, leather armour and overcoat, Otis's shirt and now these dirty looking cargo pants.
It would be nice to be just one person, outside and in, but I have taken up so many roles...
He does get the feeling of being lighter on his feet as well, which he wants to explore. He jumps on the spot, as if trying to keep warm. I don't want to look too odd, after all.
It is a strange feeling, Arren thinks, as he sits amid the grass and flowers.
He looks down at his right hand and closes it into a fist, then opens it again, several times. He feels the movement clearly, and yet, at the same time, he is aware of his body lying on its back in the tent, that same hand resting motionless against the floor.
Here, his muscles do not ache, and he does not feel the exhaustion from which his physical body is recovering at the slow rate his human half demands.
It is strange… and yet, he finds that he is enjoying it.
The sky above him is neither day nor night, but a pale, opalescent sky, like light seen through misted glass. The air—he realizes—had not been there a moment ago. It seems to have formed only once he thought to look for it. It is warm, and it carries the scent of fresh grass.
Wanting to feel the air more fully, he unbuttons his shirt slightly, letting the fabric fall looser against his chest. This is his dream. Here, he does not need his armor or clothing perfectly fastened, nor does he need to obey the ever-present rules of military etiquette.
After a moment, Arren stands and begins to walk, at first without any clear direction. The grass and flowers do not bend or break beneath his weight, which draws a faint smile to his face. Then he notices the lake. When he reaches it, he dips his hand into the water, expecting it to be crisp and cold, but finding it warm instead.
What he wouldn't give for a proper bath, and perhaps a swim as well ...
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
The hole shouldn't cause too much problem with cold, since the pocket's outer layer covers it. It's just located in the unfortunate position that anything small enough in the pocket will fall through. Fortunately, there are five other pockets, perfectly intact.
Walking around, Bryn feels very light on his feet. It's as if his legs are stronger, but also nimble. While hopping, Bryn is fortunate to attempt a very small jump at first, as he ends up jumping way higher than he intended. It might require some time to adjust if he doesn't want to accidentally jump off a cliff one day. (Check the item in your inventory, it has been updated.)
Arren had just reached to test the water. Whether or not he intended to commit to his wish for a swim, before he does that, he feels something strange. He's not alone. An intrusion into his dream, a trespasser has appeared, and they're standing right behind him. "What in the world do you think you're doing?!" It is a feminine voice, but not the same as last time. This one isn't familiar. It isn't honeyed. It's neither pleasant nor unpleasant. If Arren tries turning around, he has no trouble doing as he pleases.
A woman stands behind Arren. About a metre away. She doesn't look like a Human, nor quite like an Elf, yet she's too tall to be a Dwarf, a Halfling or a Gnome. Certainly not a Drow. Her skin tone is brown, bordering on orange. A little like cinnamon (saigon, for the orange hue). Although it gives a natural feeling, Arren doesn't recall seeing anyone with this skin tone before. Her hair, on the other hand, is a bright yellow, like a daffodil, and reaches about to her armpits. She wears a bright green toga and a chaplet of colourful flowers and leaves on her head. Arren notices her feet are bare, but most of his attention is currently elsewhere, as she looks furious.
"You just had to come here, didn't you? Ruin my year. And what did I ever do to hurt you, huh? Nothing, I tell you. Nothing. I didn't even know who you were before you came here." She steps forward, getting closer. Arren notices she's a little shorter than he is. "And after all that, you show up again as if to sow salt on my wounds. Why? Are you happy now? Well? You'd better be, because the thing you just did cannot be undone. I hope you're ready, the road ahead of you is going to be a thorny one, whether you like it or not. But don't come looking for me when you need help, I wouldn't help you even if I could. I just wanted you to look me in the eyes and tell me why you did it. Did she make you do this? I hope she at least told you what you're getting yourself into. Oh, she'll hear from me... Well, will you answer?"
She's now standing about as close to Arren as she can without touching him, leaving no direction to avoid her other than away and into the water, looking up straight into his eyes with an accusing look, waiting for an answer.
Varielky | Werhann
After his small jump turned bigger than expected, Bryn stands still for a moment. Ok, that will need some testing at some point.
He decides to sit for now and get used to the feel of the new trousers in a more stationary position. At least until the sun is up and they are on their way. Assuming he will be on his way, of course.
He sits by the fire wondering what the day will bring.
Arren turns at once, taking a step back in reflex, and immediately steps into the water for the second time that day. At least this time it is warm and far more pleasant than what his physical body experienced in the plant-fish pond.
It takes him a moment to answer. First, because he is taking in the sight of the woman before him, whose features he's never seen before. And second, because he cannot help but wonder what terrible thing he must have done, in this life or a previous one, for every woman he meets to either command him, mock him, sound disappointed in him, or be outright furious. Would it be so much to ask for one of them to simply be nice?
He raises his hands slightly, palms open.
"For what it's worth, I’m sorry. But I honestly don't know what I've done to wrong you. I don't even know who you are, nor who the other woman was, for that matter. I didn't even get to see her, though her voice was oddly familiar."
Arren is about to add that, whoever they are, they certainly seem fond of intruding into his dreams as if they were their own playground. But one more look at her expression makes him bite his tongue.
"If you would please explain what is going on? Who are you? And who was the other woman? You may not know me, but the other seem to know me very well."
Arren draws a slow breath, steadying himself, and then adds, "To answer your question: she told me that if I ever wanted to speak to her again, I should bring her a better dream. A nice, quiet, grass-covered hill, she said. So that's what I tried to do. How has that hurt you?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Haha, I thought you might say that. Tough luck, Arren. Maybe next time.
"Oh, you don't know? What's this then?" She raises her hand, holding a bronze plate. No, not a bronze plate, but the bronze-like scale Arren had claimed not too long ago, when he was awake. She then lets go of the plate, which, instead of falling, begins to hover in place. She wipes her hand on the cloth of her toga as if the scale is somehow filthy, polluted, although it seems perfectly clean to Arren.
Then, the woman takes a step back. "You know what? Nevermind. If I knew you'd just be playing dumb, I wouldn't have bothered. I won't bother you again, so enjoy the rest of your dream." She turns away and takes another step away from Arren before stopping momentarily. "But if you really don't know what I'm talking about, then next time my scheming, intolerable sister talks to you, don't listen. No matter what she offers you, I suggest you ignore her. She never works for free." The woman takes another step, and suddenly, she disperses into a collection of leaves that are blown away by a soft gust of wind. A final message, seemingly carried by the wind, reaches Arren's ears only after the woman is already gone. "Otherwise, imagine fewer flowers."
Arren's dream can from here proceed as normal dreams, even if lucid. No other voice talks to him during this night.
Varielky | Werhann
Arren is left alone in the dream he had so carefully shaped. One that had somehow managed to enrage ... who, exactly? Was that a manifestation of Gaitha herself? At least, that's what the soldier has imagined seeing her disgust when she touched the dragon scale. Then who's her sister? Aleshi?
I must be losing my mind. I really need time off.
The dream lasts for a bit longer, and he takes that time to have a moment of quiet to himself. No anger, no fights, no lies, no nothing. Just the Half-Elf with himself, and the quietness of the lake.
When he finally wakes, the words slip from him almost without thinking. "No more flowers," he mutters. "Not many. Not fewer. None at all." Perhaps that way no one will ever enter his dreams again, and he won't ever feel watched either.
Before leaving the tent, he picks up the dragon scale again. He turns it in his hands, studying it carefully. It's supposed to hover, he realizes. She made it look effortless. Natural. As if the scale had always known how to obey her. Was he meant to do that too?
"Are you meant to listen?" he murmurs. He hesitates, then exhales softly. "Maybe you need a name."
He thinks for a moment, then nods to himself. "Aegis." He had read that name in a book long ago, as a boy, and he'd liked it.
He holds the scale out in front of him. "Aegis… hover."
If nothing works, he repeats the command in every language he knows. If it still doesn't work, he closes his eyes and simply tries to will it with his mind. No words, no gestures. Just intent.
Whatever the result, Arren sets the scale aside with the rest of his belongings. There are other pressing matters. He leaves the tent in search of the Commandant and the Lieutenant. They need to see what is going to happen with the gold and the bandits, and he wants to tell them about Mydri. He'll wait for everyone to be present —even their former companion— to speak of that.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Before Arren releases the scale, it will remain in Arren's hands, seemingly unresponsive to Arren's commands. If Arren tries everything he described without ever releasing the scale, he might even feel a little awkward talking to seemingly inanimate objects. If, when he finishes, Arren straps it to something or places it in his bag without ever letting go of the scale, then the scale will remain inert, and nothing will happen.
But if instead, at some point, even after his first attempt, Arren releases the scale, and nothing holds it down, the scale will start hovering at about the height of Arren's shoulder, rising and descending as needed to match that height. It will move along with Arren, staying at a relatively fixed position to him as Arren walks, such that Arren believes it could - in theory - block incoming attacks while allowing Arren to use both hands for... anything. Some testing might be necessary to see if the scale really functions as a shield. Does it move around if something attacks Arren from behind, or if Arren wants to attack something in front of him?
After about a minute, or if Arren reaches to grab Aegis again, it will fall into Arren's hands.
((The item is updated in your sheet. Activation takes a Bonus Action, but I leave it up to you how you want to play that out. If Arren releases the shield after his first command, he may very well be convinced that it is necessary for activation. However, in case it ever becomes relevant, all you need to activate the shield is a free hand with which to grab it and raise it into the air.))
Outside, a little before dawn, Bryn notices movement in the camp. He sees a group of bandits heading to the excavation site, led by Lann. If he follows them, he'll see Nohem standing by the entrance to the crack, a wooden crate full of gold by his feet. The bandits work to clear the sarcophagus and its surroundings of any coins and gems, loading them separately into the crates previously used to clear dirt, and hauling them outside to lay in an ordered row. It would have been unpleasant staying there the other day, but the skies had cleared during the night, and the wind ceased to blow. By the time the sun rises, they are not even halfway through, but Nohem sends one of the Elves to wake the Human bandits up, who soon come to help as well. Seeing them all together, Bryn would realise there are more bandits than he thought*, but they all seem to work for this purpose now.
At some point, Commandant Nattensbarn arrives, accompanied by the Lieutenant whom she pulled out of Mydri's tent. She asks Nohem what he's doing, and Nohem replies that to split the gold as they agreed, they'll have to first see just how much of it there is. The Commandant, along with the Lieutenant, stay there to make sure the bandits don't do anything except exactly that.
As more people rise with the sun, so do some workers, and at some point, Arren too, after experimenting with Aegis. The gathering of the bandits, not too far from camp, catches the attention of the workers. And once one of them catches the glint of gold, they are soon all on their feet - including women and children whom Arren and Bryn previously barely saw - and gathered around the treasure, which quickly piles into more and more crates. Once the Commandant promises the workers that it will be split with them, the workers stand and simply gaze in awe at the great amount of gold. A handful decide to help to hasten the process, but most enjoy seeing others work. Even if some of said others have been working with them all the time as bandits under cover.
Not everyone is present. The sick could not leave their tent even if they wanted to, and Mydri tends to them already. One of the cooks remains to watch the breakfast over the fire. Radis never left his tent, and if someone asks Nevesta, she'll say he likes to oversleep. Lastly, Arren and Bryn are, of course, free to act as they wish. (If Bryn never followed the bandits, he'll see this all from a distance in less detail, but he gets the idea pretty soon.)
By the end, the bandits gathered the gold into twelve equally sized crates, almost full, each containing hundreds of coins, surely, and one barrel, half-full of various gems. Once everything is gathered, Nohem divides the crates according to the split that was decided the previous night. Six to the bandits, four to the workers, split evenly among them, and two to the Commandant's crew. The gems are then spread similarly between the three groups. Most of the workers, even those who came from a more wealthy background, are so shocked at the fortune that fell into their hands that none ever mentions the uneven division.
"This all has worth beyond the material it's made of," the Commandant whispers to the Lieutenant and anyone else around, frustrated by seeing such an important find distributed to people who will, most likely, melt the gold to fashion it into jewellery or normal coins. "I'd offer them regular gold instead, but we barely have anything left already."
Varielky | Werhann
Bryn does follow Lann up to the excavation site, finding a perch to sit and watch as the bandits do the heavy lifting. It is amazing how motivated they are given the right incentive.
He does notice the absence of Radis when the humans are called upon to help, but doesn't push the issue when Nevesta mentions that he likes to oversleep.
Unlike everyone else, he has no idea what is going to happen with the gold and gems. The soldiers have a share, of course, but whether the Commandant will include him in that is unknown. And he still doesn't know whether he will be leaving with the soldiers as well.
Some time before the end of sorting, he will head back down to the camp and sit by the fire. There he will await his fate, contemplating how this started as a gift from Gaitha and yet all the evidence pointed to the fact that the Goddess really didn't want this place found and looted. Why else protect it so forcefully?
He will also wander over to the cook that remained.
"It is quite the scene at the excavation site, but I will confess a hot meal is almost as appealing as all that gold. If you could spare a portion, I would be happy to help. I don't know much about cooking, but I can follow instructions when I choose to, which I will of course", he says with a little chuckle.
"Fascinating." Arren watches the scale hover, clearly impressed now that he has figured out how it works. Of course, that woman hadn't given any verbal command. She had simply let the scale fall from her hand. He will need to test it further to truly get the hang of it, but a hovering shield opens a wide range of possibilities. For one, he could wield his longsword with both hands, striking harder without the constant strain of supporting a shield on his arm.
Once outside, he does not comment on the Commandant's frustration over the gold. He is simply glad the workers will receive their share—something to compensate for the days they spent effectively held captive, to help Mydri establish herself in Pyorre, to allow the sick to buy whatever medicine they may need, and, in general, to give people a chance to get back on their feet.
He does ask, however, "What are we going to do with our share?"
When he notices the black-haired magician leaving the excavation site, Arren decides not to avoid the issue any longer. "We'll be leaving soon, won't we?' he says. "We should also address the matter of…" He hesitates, refusing to say Otis, as he doesn't want to use yet another false name. "…our former companion. And there's also Mydri."
He pauses, making sure no one nearby is listening.
"I spoke to her last night. She's lost much of her memory. She showed me a charcoal drawing of herself, a man, and a toddler. Her family, apparently. But she doesn't remember them at all. She didn't even remember her own name until I asked her a couple of nights ago." He exhales slowly. "At first, it reminded me of Emma, but it doesn't seem to be the same kind of thing. This could be the result of trauma rather than deliberate tampering. Still…"
He hesitates again.
"She told me she crossed paths with a pale, black-haired Levickan Elf, not that long ago. He wasn't alone. There was a large figure with him, heavily armored. They were tending to an injured bird, a crow or a raven, and Mydri helped them."
Another pause.
"It could be an entirely different Elf," Arren admits. "But it's a coincidence I don't like."
He lets that sit for a moment before adding, "We should probably discuss this with our magician acquaintance. Especially if he will keep traveling with us."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Bryn finds the cook mostly just watching the fire. Porridge doesn't require much work at this point. But if Bryn insists, the cook will allow Bryn to stir occasionally to make sure the bottom doesn't burn. Otherwise, they seem more interested in the gathering of people near the entrance to the crack.
"We won't use it for ourselves, if that's what you're asking." Commandant Nattensbarn doesn't look like she intends to elaborate, at first, but after a few moments, she adds: "But maybe I can convince them to give you a bonus for your hard work."
When Arren brings up the matter of the no-longer-Tace and Mydri, the Commandant just listens and then stays silent for a bit. "We probably should," she repeats, but doesn't take any action to pursue this course of action for a little longer. "It feels like everything was simpler before Tus. Is his arrival the cause, or simply another effect?"
Without waiting for an answer, the Commandant turns around, facing the camp. "Take our share with you, we're going to the carriage. Lieutenant, stay and guard the carriage while we're gone. I don't trust these people not to get greedy. Sergeant, after you carry the gold, go call the... go call him. I'll start preparing Choco and Mocha, so don't take too long. We're far behind schedule already. I'll want to hear about Mydri's story... but not now. Unless you're sure the matter is pressing."
From there, she'll head to the carriage, expecting Arren to follow her lead, and after locking away the gold and gems safely, she'll start tending to the horses.
Varielky | Werhann
"Everything was definitely simpler before Tus" Arren agrees. No fake companions. No Breithe Staidear. No women turned into killing machines. Quiet dreams. And the list goes on.
"We can talk about Mydri on the way," he adds, then begins doing as instructed, heading toward the excavation site to collect the two crates that now belong to the soldiers.
Arren offers a quiet nod to the bandits present—especially Lann, Nafnlaus, and Akvedinn. It's not friendship, nothing like that, but fighting the plant-men side by side has forged a small bond between them. A thin one, perhaps, but real enough. He offers the same gesture to Nevesta, if she is there as well, hoping she has recovered from her wounds.
What will these people do now? he asks himself. Will they leave the site for good? Scatter and keep pillaging around the mountain pass?
He exchanges a few words with the workers he spent the most time with—for example, Hugo and the Elf who used to work alongside him—wishing them well on their journey home. And, if he spots Mydri somewhere in the camp, Arren will give her a brief wave from afar. Nothing intrusive. Just a silent farewell.
Then, without wasting any more time—he knows better than to keep the Commandant waiting—he stores the gold and gems in the carriage.
Once that's done, he goes to look for their Elven acquaintance. He finds him near the cook and simply tells him, "We're ready to leave," gesturing him toward where the Commandant is preparing Choco and Mocha.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
“It seems you will be able to afford your own cook, and other servants, once you leave here. It is quite the sum of gold”, Bryn says to the cook as he stirs and she eyes the great counting site.
How long will any of these people keep their share once word gets out about what they have. Even the Commandant will need to be quick to avoid an even bigger target on her carriages back.
He takes his prize for helping once the porridge is ready, perhaps eating it as the Sergeant delivers his curt message.
He stands and walks over to clean his bowl. “Thanks, and good luck to you all”, he says to the cook.
When he is done he gathers his things and turns back to the Sergeant, assuming he waited.
”Ok, I am ready to leave, too. Let’s go and find out if I will be joining you”, he says.
The Sergeant will notice he is wearing the trousers from the cave, and he has replaced his uniform top with a nicer quality one. He still wears the boots, leather armour and overcoat that once belonged to the corporal though.
As they walk he will engage in idle chat, “At least the weather has improved”.
Arren has indeed waited. When the Elf mentions the weather, his eyes lift briefly toward the sky. "It will make the journey easier, fortunately."
He does not respond to the remark about finding out whether the Elf will be joining them. If the Commandant asked to fetch him, then the decision is likely already made. Besides, Arren doubts she would pass up the chance to have the book translated on the road to Pyorre.
Noticing that the Elf is wearing the trousers from the cave, Arren makes an effort to engage in the conversation. It does not come easily, but if they are to keep travelling together, he knows it is necessary.
"Have you figured out what those do?" he asks, nodding toward the trousers. "The pants, I mean. The scale seems that can function as a shield. Turns out it can hover and move along with me for a while, leaving both my hands free. I'll still need someone to add a couple of straps, though. Otherwise carrying it the rest of the time will be… inconvenient."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Bryn is surprised that the Sergeant engages in the conversation, and with more substance than his own attempt. Pleased though.
He nods in response, "I have found that they make me lighter on my feet. Or perhaps make my legs stronger. It is hard to tell, but I can move more freely, and although I haven't tried it, I believe I could jump a serious distance if I were to try. The aesthetics are odd, but I have thought on that. It might be a vain hope, but perhaps they blend in to the surroundings. An excavation site would suit dirty multi-pocketed trousers, don't you think. Otherwise, I fear I will stand out when not on some kind of building site". He chuckles at the thought.
He thinks for a moment on the scale.
"That is quite amazing, and certainly a great boon to the way you fight. You will be even more formidable", he says, deadly serious with not a hint of sarcasm. "Might I caution you though. Perhaps straps can be added in some kind of harness setup, but they would surely be at risk of breaking unless something permanent were done. Don't damage the scale. I would likely not even want to alter the weight of it, in case it reduces its ability to function. Perhaps instead have a pouch fashioned to store it in when not in use, that can be strapped to your back. Just a thought".
He looks down at the Sergeants trousers and boots, expecting he might have changed the trousers, but possibly not the boots. If either are still wet, he will say, "Must be uncomfortable still being wet. I can help with that with if you'd like".
If the Sergeant does like, he will eject the water from his clothes and boots. Nothing fancy this time, just a little waterfall running off him.
The Sergeant listens with genuine interest.
"That is useful. Maybe you are right and the aspect adapts to the surroundings. I guess we will see that once we begin the journey. They might turn stone-gray when we are in the mountain pass." He pauses. "And if it doesn't, well… it's not like us soldiers are dressed in fancy clothes, or that we'll find ourselves at a grand ball anytime soon."
Arren is caught off guard when the Elf praises his fighting skills. He scratches the back of his neck a bit, then says, "Hmm, you're right. I wouldn't want the scale to be damaged. If I can find a pouch that lets me retrieve it quickly enough, that should be enough." He pauses, then adds, "It's quite amazing. I only had to let it fall from my hand for it to hover. Makes one wonder what the ring, the circlet and the glove can do."
When the Elf offers to help with his boots, Arren looks at him in confusion at first. But if magic can alter memories, change one's aspect or translate dead languages, why wouldn't it be able to dry a soldier's wet boots? He watches with interest as the man works his spell, and when a small waterfall suddenly pours from the leather and his feet grow warm and comfortable, Arren blinks, clearly impressed.
It is clear as the sky that this small kindness has made Arren's morning noticeably better.
"Thank you," the Half-Elf says quietly.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Arren will see Nevesta among the rest of the bandits and notice that her injuries are healed. No injury like what she suffered could naturally heal this fast, but he may recall her request of Radis the other night, which was refused at the time.
Since it seems Bryn and Arren took their time, the carriage is ready by the time they get there. But instead of being impetient as she'd usually be, the two find the Commandant brushing Choco's fur with a small wooden brush. She doesn't stop when she sees them, even as she starts talking. "You put me in a tough spot, you know. You have proven again that, at least if you choose to be an ally, you can be dependable in a life-or-death situation. I saw for myself several of your supernatural abilities too, and you claim to have more, albeit ones for which I have no methods for validation. These abilities might be useful, if the Lieutenant's theories turn out to be true.
"But put simply, I cannot trust you. You kept asking for a guarantee that my word will be kept, but I don't even know your name. No, rather, even if Otis is your real name, or even if you now tell me a different name and claim it to be true, I have no reason to trust that it is. I don't know what drives you, and I don't believe a noble cause like helping Emma could really drive a man to risk everything, when the hope of helping her is based on a load of 'if', 'perhaps' and 'maybe'. But maybe I'm wrong, and you don't think you're risking that much?
"Speaking of which, have you considered the risks that I'll be taking if I let you ride along? Imagine a perfect scenario where all of the Lieutenant's guesses turn out to be correct, and in which you genuinely intend to help for no motive other than helping Emma out, and perhaps some monetary compensation. We put aside all risks of your betrayal - perhaps - and all of the possible benefits of asking you to ride along are likely to be fulfilled. Even then, have you considered that I'll be knowingly allowing a man who escaped prison, whom I believe is a Levickan spy - a former one at the very least - to enter Pyorre? I can't justify that to anyone, and if you're caught, I am bound to lose a lot more than you do."
She finally stops brushing Choco's fur and turns around to face Bryn directly. "I'll be taking a greater risk than you imagine, allowing you to ride along. Tell me, should I do it? Why?"
Varielky | Werhann
“Oh, I think we are both in a bit of a tough spot here, I don’t doubt that. I had not expected the Lieutenant to be so pragmatic in truth, although he possibly has his own reasons, with his impending retirement and return to Mey perhaps colouring his judgement. Or perhaps just providing him with greater clarity”, Bryn replies, looking to the Lieutenant if he is present, and giving him a small smile to show his appreciation no matter the reason.
“I asked for your word because during the time I have been with you, I have come to see you as an honourable person. The same goes for the Sergeant and the Lieutenant. If you gave your word, I would believe you, which I understand is not reciprocated”, he explains. “I think I was clear that Otis is not my name, but that is beside the point right now. The main point is that you do not know me. You don’t know what drives me or why I do what I do or have done what I have done. You have made assumptions that, although rational, I think you are realising are likely not true”, he continues, trying to find the right words to express himself properly in this moment.
“I told you all when you interrogated me whilst I was in the tent, that what I tell you will be the truth, and although I understand your skepticism, I can assure you I have honoured my word. As you have acknowledged, I have stood by you when my life was on the line, and I have used my skills and abilities openly. And with sensitivity towards your mistrust or lack of understanding right now about those abilities”, he says, then sighs.
“Oh, I am quite willing to lie and cheat to serve my purposes, I own that completely. But that does not mean I am without honour. I would not even have classed myself as dangerous before I left Tus. Until I met you three, I had never taken another life or inflicted serious physical harm on another person, nor did I intend to. Family drives me. Knowledge drives me. Keeping a promise drives me. Being free drives me”, he says rather passionately now.
“I am far from home, far from family, my freedom on the line, so what is there left? Knowledge and a promise made that I cannot keep without your help”.
He digs in his pack and pulls out Emil’s bow, uncovering it carefully, almost reverently. Slowly revealing the dark orange-brown wood covered with ornamental carvings and glyphs that is no longer broken in two, but whole. He looks briefly to the Sergeant expecting to see outrage.
“Emma granted my request to take her father’s bow and she didn’t turn me in when she knew I was an imposter. For my part, I promised her my intention was to go to Pyorre, to deliver Tace Peite’s belongings to his wife and child and tell his wife what happened. I take that promise seriously. And I believe it is the right thing to do anyway. I am far from proud of what I did to escape Tus. And yes, I want to help Emma. But I also just want to know what happened to her. I want to know how it is possible that she is the way she is. I want to know what knowledge Breithe Staidear acquired that has two countries searching for him, according to your own account, Commandant”.
“You think me a spy, or a former spy. In truth I was merely a fall guy. A pawn. I won’t be used like that again. I don’t want to follow this trail for anyone but myself”, he says with brutal candour.
“You ask if you should allow me to ride with you. All I can tell you is that if you play fair by me, I will play fair by you. We share some goals and we share the risk, and we will have to trust each other. I have lived in your world for a little while now, and I have changed because of it. If you really want to do this, you will have to spend some time in my world. You will have to be willing to bend the truth to the point of breaking and beyond. It sounds as if you don’t trust your superiors, or perhaps it is they who don’t trust you. Perhaps both. There is certainly politics at play here, and you are smart enough to know that politics and honour are not compatible bedfellows”.
He pauses momentarily allowing his words to sink in, before adding, "So what is it to be, Commandant?".
Arren takes a few steps back the moment Commandant Nattensbarn begins speaking, knowing that—for now—this is a conversation that needs to happen between her and the black-haired Elf. He listens attentively, arms folded and silent, standing next to Lieutenant Tireur.
The Elf is right to expect outrage on Arren's face the moment he unfolds Emil's bow ... but it doesn't last. Inwardly, Arren forces himself to breathe and keep listening. He knows the Commandant has been put in a difficult position and wants her to make the best decision she can. Not influencing her with his own anger—whether justified or not—feels like the most useful thing he can do for her right now.
He tries to ignore the bow and focus instead on what their former companion is saying. What drives him. Family. Freedom. A promise. The words echo close to home. Arren then thinks of Radis, of what he had said about his reason for joining the bandits, and how that admission had unsettled him. How it had made him realize that bandits or not, they weren't so different from them, the soldiers, after all. Now, he is having that same feeling again.
There is a flash of doubt, though. Am I being too soft? Am I trying to make this work when it shouldn't? And why?
His thoughts drift to the time he and the “Corporal” had spent together. There had been a connection. A sense of companionship. A feeling that this was someone he could rely on—much like felt with Walnuts. Even wrapped in lies, there had been something real there. Hadn't there?
Arren exhales softly and unfolds his arms. He doesn't know what the Commandant will decide, and he doesn't know how to ease the burden of what she would risk if she chose to let the Elf accompany them. But he knows he has to say something.
He looks at the Elf, meeting his gaze, and says something he wouldn't have believed himself capable of the day before. Something he says simply because it feels true.
"I believe you."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren