That certainly brings up its own troubles and Elodia opens her mouth to address it when a new voice takes her by surprise. At once, she straightens in her seat to look up at Shiva, gaze wary. The aggression that had been rife in the tiefling just a short time ago seems to have abated and the question seems innocuous enough, but she's not reckless enough to think herself safe. She glances to Nimue before looking back to Shiva, saying carefully, "Forgive me, but I'm not sure I would be wise to do so." Her gaze is hyper-focused as she waits to see if the sound of her accent elicits another volatile response. After a brief pause, she waves vaguely towards the side of the room. "A compromise? A table in one of the corners, in sight of others but unlikely to be overheard."
"Yes, that would be perfectly fine." Sensing Elodia's wariness, Shiva tries to make her tone as docile as possible. Gesturing to a far-off table, she smiles conciliatorily, "Shall we?"
Nikolai smiles and nods, taking her queue not to follow. His smile falls away as she leaves, and he spends the next several minutes pacing the room and racking his brain trying his damnedest to figure out what happened to his best-friend... As his frustrations mount and he removes his tarrock deck to absently shuffled them, stopping after a moment and kicking himself. He grins as he suddenly takes a cross-legged seat and begins lighting incense before shuffling the deck once more and spending the next several minutes completing his occult ritual... "Can Shiva control this change?"
"Please, let's continue this later," Elodia tells Nimue earnestly, briefly touching the woman's hand before standing to follow Shiva. She pointedly glances over the tiefling as she sits opposite her at the far side of the room, still half-expecting aggression though Shiva's tone thus far has implied otherwise. The questions she'd like to ask come to mind immediately, beginning and ending with what just happened? but she has been raised to be polite, and instead pauses for a long moment before asking, "How are you feeling? You look well."
Shiva sits up straight, attempting to be proper and respect etiquette. "Yes, I'm well. Better than well, actually. But I wanted to begin by thanking you. Your efforts are the reason why I did not tear my friends apart in my rampage. That is a service that I will never forget. What occurred earlier had never happened before, and it had little to do with you, honestly." She holds eye contact with Elodia, hoping that she will feel the sincerity in the words.
"You're welcome. I'll admit, I'm glad to hear that it worked; through the fog it was impossible to tell." The admittance of her role as Shiva's trigger is as surprising as it isn't, and Elodia finds herself glad to not have to dance around it as propriety might have preferred. "I had worried as much. I'll confess though that I don't...quite understand. You met with my husband, and he speaks as I do." Her head tilts. "If I offended you personally, it wasn't intended."
"No, you didn't offend me. You haven't done anything to offend me, and the fact that Ling feels comfortable with this arrangement puts me more at ease with it. It's just... I, um.." She falters as she searches for the words, before exhaling and casting her eyes down. "How much do you know of my past in Breanne?" There's a tinge of shame in the question as Shiva brings her eyes back up to Elodia's.
Elodia softens slightly, her shoulders releasing from their position of tension. "I know of the Pit, if that's what you're asking," she says quietly. "But I never saw it myself; I was little more than a child when it burned. Nor do I think I would have cared to." She thinks to add more, to comment on the unnecessary violence of it, but what can she say that Shiva doesn't know, hadn't lived? Instead she pauses before adding slowly, "I know, too, by your own admission how you left. And I can understand from both parts of that why you might think I'm the same. But I left them for a reason, too." She moves, as if to reflexively touch one of Shiva's hands as she had Nimue's, but then thinks better of it and hers still atop the table. "I'd apologize for them for what you went through, if it meant anything. But...I don't know that it would."
Shiva smiles, though it lacks any warmth or happiness. "Yes. They...when I was a child, a Monsieur Degoutant had my aunt and uncle murdered. They were the only family I had ever known. Then he threw me in a cage, till he had me taken down to The Pit, where I made my first kill. Some sadistic half-orc who was more than willing to murder a child. And so I was a gladiatorial slave. One match. Every month. For 8 cycles. I killed Degoutant not long after I turned 18, and I haven't been back to Breanne since. Though she seems to be relatively calm, her hands are visibly shaking. "That's why I hate them. But I'm beginning to understand that you and your husband aren't like that."
“You killed him?” Surprise registers immediately on Elodia’s face at the words, and things begin to fall into place quickly. She thinks of when she'd first heard word of Monsieur Degoutant's death, barely in her teens and home in Beaufort, only just old enough to truly understand what that meant; and to Shiva it had been utter liberation. How strange, that their paths would cross now.
"No, neither of us particularly care for bloodsport." It's said almost absently as she processes it all, before her mouth sets in determination. “Good for you. He hurt you terribly, and he ought to pay for it. There's nothing truer."
"I couldn't agree more." The delight of a sadist paints Shiva's features, and she leans back in her chair as she thinks back to that night. "Was the weasley little ****er someone important among the aristocracy? He tried to reason with me in his last moments, told me that I should be grateful for what he'd done for me. Then I cut him from gullet to groin and watched him die in his own entrails." Her hands no longer shake, the fear and pain having been replaced with malign pride in her retribution.
Andrei is, as ever, stood behind the bar polishing a glass. He glances up at Alaris as they approach. The patrons are already filing back in.
"They always come back," he tells the Bogatyr with a blasé shrug, "but I'm glad that you're sorry. Sometimes your trio are more trouble than they're worth," he adds with a wry smirk. "Sometimes. I hear you're headed east?"
Alaris nods. "Two days time, we leave for Paragon. We'll miss your friendship then, for sure. Anything out that way I should know about?"The aasimar glances around in time to see Shiva pass, headed towards Elodia. Their spine stiffens for a moment, then they relax as they see the two move together to a secluded table. Don't forget, we need to ask her about her husband's client... See what she knows... or what she'll SAY she knows...
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"The gap of Hirn..." Andrei muses. "You know, it's not just the weather that's cold on the coast. I've heard rumours that the Seraskier is gathering his forces. Some say in the Koncowy hills, others in Ostroga forest. Relations with the Dwarves have been... frosty," he adds with a wry smirk. "If you do make it all the way across the border, say hello to my cousin for me. He runs a bar in Paragon called Buidéal Dóchais. You mind bringing him a letter?"
Astrid joins the rest back in the common room. She plops down into a chair next to Nimue, signals for a drink and gives the elf a weak smile. "Quite the afternoon with this bunch, huh?" The weariness is clear in her voice. She rubs the side of her neck to work out the stiffness from the whiplash of emotions that the first half of the day has brought. "Still trying to get used to them myself. I have found the need to remind myself that Brightmantle brought me to these folks."She touches the left breast of her robe with the symbol of her god - that of an open book with pages inscribed with many runes - is embroidered.
Nimue smiles warmly at the dwarf. She knew that her people and the dwarves didn't have much contact, with the dwarves preferring to keep to themselves. But what was that thing that Grandmama was always telling me about? It was on the edge of her mind, she could almost hear the words. But it stayed just out of reach. Maybe a lesson? A journey she wants me to take?
She looks at the symbol, and nods with understanding, her fingers absently brushing the chain of her pendant, hidden under her clothes. "I pray our gods are with us. Perhaps Aralath has also put me on this path." She chuckles and takes a sip of her wine. "I suppose all we can do is have faith. In our gods, and in our friends."
As Nikolai completes his ritual, he carefully flips the three worn Tarrock cards over; the Sun, the Chariot, and the Emperor. He sits back with a satisfied sigh. 'I know they do not understand, Shahar. For those who seem to speak with a goddess, they fail to acknowledge your power and understanding. Thank you.' With the answers he had hoped for in hand, Nikolai carefully gathers his deck and shuffles them back into the protective case as he blows the fragrant ashes from the incense into the cracks upon the floor. With a happy smile upon his face, he descends down to join his companions.
"He had certainly made a name for himself," Elodia notes with pursed lips. "In Camwen moreso than Beaufort, I imagine, but he wasn't without his notoriety. I really was too young to take much note of the particulars; far too interested in romantic tales and pretty things, which the Pit decidedly was not." The savagery with which Shiva relays her killing is a blunter and more violent telling than what Elodia's used to hearing and it shows on her face, a slight twinge in her otherwise careful expression. "I...would wish very few to die in such a manner, I'll admit, but it sounds like he worked hard to secure himself that honor. Is he alone in that, or did you then pursue others of his ilk?"
Noticing that her vitriolic anger has made Elodia uncomfortable, Shiva sits up straight once more, her face falling back into a pleasantly benign expression. "No, I haven't. Once I got away, I was more occupied with just living my life. While I have no plans to go after any others in Camwen, it seemed that a great many of them attended those evenings in The Pit. And it would certainly be an unlucky day for any of them if I ever saw them again." The sinister shine returns to her eyes, and in an instant it's gone. "But you said that your departure from Breanne was urgent as well, I'd imagine that you left with Francesc? Would you be comfortable telling me what happened?"
Caio rejoins the others in the common room as well, taking his seat with Astrid and Nimue and catching the tail of their conversation. "Another woman of faith? The Trio continue to find themselves in increasingly divine company." he muses.
Nimue smiles appreciatively, and takes another drink. "Perhaps you'll enjoy my company a bit longer. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something drew me here." She gives Caio a coy, sideways glance. "Maybe it was you."
She allows for a beat of silence before continuing. "One thing I do know, you are lucky to have friends such as each other. It's been...…far too long since I have enjoyed company such as this."
An image crosses her mind: a large table covered in candles and food. A large gathering, laughing, conversing, drinking. A family. Her family. Then the image fades, and she is sitting all alone at that table, no longer covered in candles and good food. I really know how to kill my own good mood. She raises her cup slightly, a toast to the company she now kept. She hoped she would keep.
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That certainly brings up its own troubles and Elodia opens her mouth to address it when a new voice takes her by surprise. At once, she straightens in her seat to look up at Shiva, gaze wary. The aggression that had been rife in the tiefling just a short time ago seems to have abated and the question seems innocuous enough, but she's not reckless enough to think herself safe. She glances to Nimue before looking back to Shiva, saying carefully, "Forgive me, but I'm not sure I would be wise to do so." Her gaze is hyper-focused as she waits to see if the sound of her accent elicits another volatile response. After a brief pause, she waves vaguely towards the side of the room. "A compromise? A table in one of the corners, in sight of others but unlikely to be overheard."
"Yes, that would be perfectly fine." Sensing Elodia's wariness, Shiva tries to make her tone as docile as possible. Gesturing to a far-off table, she smiles conciliatorily, "Shall we?"
Nikolai smiles and nods, taking her queue not to follow. His smile falls away as she leaves, and he spends the next several minutes pacing the room and racking his brain trying his damnedest to figure out what happened to his best-friend... As his frustrations mount and he removes his tarrock deck to absently shuffled them, stopping after a moment and kicking himself. He grins as he suddenly takes a cross-legged seat and begins lighting incense before shuffling the deck once more and spending the next several minutes completing his occult ritual... "Can Shiva control this change?"
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"Please, let's continue this later," Elodia tells Nimue earnestly, briefly touching the woman's hand before standing to follow Shiva. She pointedly glances over the tiefling as she sits opposite her at the far side of the room, still half-expecting aggression though Shiva's tone thus far has implied otherwise. The questions she'd like to ask come to mind immediately, beginning and ending with what just happened? but she has been raised to be polite, and instead pauses for a long moment before asking, "How are you feeling? You look well."
Shiva sits up straight, attempting to be proper and respect etiquette. "Yes, I'm well. Better than well, actually. But I wanted to begin by thanking you. Your efforts are the reason why I did not tear my friends apart in my rampage. That is a service that I will never forget. What occurred earlier had never happened before, and it had little to do with you, honestly." She holds eye contact with Elodia, hoping that she will feel the sincerity in the words.
"You're welcome. I'll admit, I'm glad to hear that it worked; through the fog it was impossible to tell." The admittance of her role as Shiva's trigger is as surprising as it isn't, and Elodia finds herself glad to not have to dance around it as propriety might have preferred. "I had worried as much. I'll confess though that I don't...quite understand. You met with my husband, and he speaks as I do." Her head tilts. "If I offended you personally, it wasn't intended."
"No, you didn't offend me. You haven't done anything to offend me, and the fact that Ling feels comfortable with this arrangement puts me more at ease with it. It's just... I, um.." She falters as she searches for the words, before exhaling and casting her eyes down. "How much do you know of my past in Breanne?" There's a tinge of shame in the question as Shiva brings her eyes back up to Elodia's.
Elodia softens slightly, her shoulders releasing from their position of tension. "I know of the Pit, if that's what you're asking," she says quietly. "But I never saw it myself; I was little more than a child when it burned. Nor do I think I would have cared to." She thinks to add more, to comment on the unnecessary violence of it, but what can she say that Shiva doesn't know, hadn't lived? Instead she pauses before adding slowly, "I know, too, by your own admission how you left. And I can understand from both parts of that why you might think I'm the same. But I left them for a reason, too." She moves, as if to reflexively touch one of Shiva's hands as she had Nimue's, but then thinks better of it and hers still atop the table. "I'd apologize for them for what you went through, if it meant anything. But...I don't know that it would."
Shiva smiles, though it lacks any warmth or happiness. "Yes. They...when I was a child, a Monsieur Degoutant had my aunt and uncle murdered. They were the only family I had ever known. Then he threw me in a cage, till he had me taken down to The Pit, where I made my first kill. Some sadistic half-orc who was more than willing to murder a child. And so I was a gladiatorial slave. One match. Every month. For 8 cycles. I killed Degoutant not long after I turned 18, and I haven't been back to Breanne since. Though she seems to be relatively calm, her hands are visibly shaking. "That's why I hate them. But I'm beginning to understand that you and your husband aren't like that."
“You killed him?” Surprise registers immediately on Elodia’s face at the words, and things begin to fall into place quickly. She thinks of when she'd first heard word of Monsieur Degoutant's death, barely in her teens and home in Beaufort, only just old enough to truly understand what that meant; and to Shiva it had been utter liberation. How strange, that their paths would cross now.
"No, neither of us particularly care for bloodsport." It's said almost absently as she processes it all, before her mouth sets in determination. “Good for you. He hurt you terribly, and he ought to pay for it. There's nothing truer."
"I couldn't agree more." The delight of a sadist paints Shiva's features, and she leans back in her chair as she thinks back to that night. "Was the weasley little ****er someone important among the aristocracy? He tried to reason with me in his last moments, told me that I should be grateful for what he'd done for me. Then I cut him from gullet to groin and watched him die in his own entrails." Her hands no longer shake, the fear and pain having been replaced with malign pride in her retribution.
Alaris nods. "Two days time, we leave for Paragon. We'll miss your friendship then, for sure. Anything out that way I should know about?" The aasimar glances around in time to see Shiva pass, headed towards Elodia. Their spine stiffens for a moment, then they relax as they see the two move together to a secluded table. Don't forget, we need to ask her about her husband's client... See what she knows... or what she'll SAY she knows...
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"The gap of Hirn..." Andrei muses. "You know, it's not just the weather that's cold on the coast. I've heard rumours that the Seraskier is gathering his forces. Some say in the Koncowy hills, others in Ostroga forest. Relations with the Dwarves have been... frosty," he adds with a wry smirk. "If you do make it all the way across the border, say hello to my cousin for me. He runs a bar in Paragon called Buidéal Dóchais. You mind bringing him a letter?"
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Astrid joins the rest back in the common room. She plops down into a chair next to Nimue, signals for a drink and gives the elf a weak smile. "Quite the afternoon with this bunch, huh?" The weariness is clear in her voice. She rubs the side of her neck to work out the stiffness from the whiplash of emotions that the first half of the day has brought. "Still trying to get used to them myself. I have found the need to remind myself that Brightmantle brought me to these folks." She touches the left breast of her robe with the symbol of her god - that of an open book with pages inscribed with many runes - is embroidered.
Nimue smiles warmly at the dwarf. She knew that her people and the dwarves didn't have much contact, with the dwarves preferring to keep to themselves. But what was that thing that Grandmama was always telling me about? It was on the edge of her mind, she could almost hear the words. But it stayed just out of reach. Maybe a lesson? A journey she wants me to take?
She looks at the symbol, and nods with understanding, her fingers absently brushing the chain of her pendant, hidden under her clothes. "I pray our gods are with us. Perhaps Aralath has also put me on this path." She chuckles and takes a sip of her wine. "I suppose all we can do is have faith. In our gods, and in our friends."
As Nikolai completes his ritual, he carefully flips the three worn Tarrock cards over; the Sun, the Chariot, and the Emperor. He sits back with a satisfied sigh. 'I know they do not understand, Shahar. For those who seem to speak with a goddess, they fail to acknowledge your power and understanding. Thank you.' With the answers he had hoped for in hand, Nikolai carefully gathers his deck and shuffles them back into the protective case as he blows the fragrant ashes from the incense into the cracks upon the floor. With a happy smile upon his face, he descends down to join his companions.
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"He had certainly made a name for himself," Elodia notes with pursed lips. "In Camwen moreso than Beaufort, I imagine, but he wasn't without his notoriety. I really was too young to take much note of the particulars; far too interested in romantic tales and pretty things, which the Pit decidedly was not." The savagery with which Shiva relays her killing is a blunter and more violent telling than what Elodia's used to hearing and it shows on her face, a slight twinge in her otherwise careful expression. "I...would wish very few to die in such a manner, I'll admit, but it sounds like he worked hard to secure himself that honor. Is he alone in that, or did you then pursue others of his ilk?"
Noticing that her vitriolic anger has made Elodia uncomfortable, Shiva sits up straight once more, her face falling back into a pleasantly benign expression. "No, I haven't. Once I got away, I was more occupied with just living my life. While I have no plans to go after any others in Camwen, it seemed that a great many of them attended those evenings in The Pit. And it would certainly be an unlucky day for any of them if I ever saw them again." The sinister shine returns to her eyes, and in an instant it's gone. "But you said that your departure from Breanne was urgent as well, I'd imagine that you left with Francesc? Would you be comfortable telling me what happened?"
Caio rejoins the others in the common room as well, taking his seat with Astrid and Nimue and catching the tail of their conversation. "Another woman of faith? The Trio continue to find themselves in increasingly divine company." he muses.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Nimue smiles appreciatively, and takes another drink. "Perhaps you'll enjoy my company a bit longer. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something drew me here." She gives Caio a coy, sideways glance. "Maybe it was you."
She allows for a beat of silence before continuing. "One thing I do know, you are lucky to have friends such as each other. It's been...…far too long since I have enjoyed company such as this."
An image crosses her mind: a large table covered in candles and food. A large gathering, laughing, conversing, drinking. A family. Her family. Then the image fades, and she is sitting all alone at that table, no longer covered in candles and good food. I really know how to kill my own good mood. She raises her cup slightly, a toast to the company she now kept. She hoped she would keep.