Vardi has been short on words after the fury of combat, only inquiring if her comrades are well with a pottery jar of heather salve in her hand and praising Skokki quietly for his bravery as she feeds him.
Sometimes the Joturn-kin looks sideways at the captive harbringer, with the air of a child who has met with a monster in the dark from the tales, found them less fearsome than the tales told of, yet is still cautious of what claws might be but sheathed for now.
Indeed, the Lytenwoman's silence is a sign of much thought as she considers what little she knows of Harbringers and their ways, and finds herself without answers, something that troubles her more deeply than she would be easily willing to admit.
So she nods in agreement with keeping them in front of the party at all times, then watches and listens, curiosity tempered by caution, guarding against what she does not know, but feels as if she should.
The enemy knight she treats with polite indifference, seeing him as a threat known of old to the others of the retinue, thus a threat without mystery in their malice. The matter of their current errantry being of their own malice or at the behest of a higher malevolence is one she can offer only a wry guess at.
Vardi offers in a whisper in passing to Ser Almeric "I cannae speak of Albish stipends, but I'd doubt tha' yon ass in armour paid fer those who came with him out of his own purse, nay matter wha' he brays."
She gathers together and searches the bodies of the fallen Harbringers with nervous care under the branches of the nearest large tree to the path, as one thing the tales did oft mention was poison, a danger that she'd rather was not left lying by the roadside for the unwary to find.
OOC: Sorry for being slow in posting. Life happens, and a lot of it all at once this week. @OsinmacCameron: Glad to hear your mum is in recovery.
Also OOC: Perception Check for Vardi while moving/searching bodies of 14.
Vardi considers the situation, but having deduced that Almeric's head price does not appear to include a body, discards discourse, civil or otherwise, as a means of resolving the matter.
Instead, she slips her arm into her shield's grips and slaps her visor down as she swiftly moves up to where she can use her shield to protect the others.
(Can Vadri hold attack, move up with the other fighters and use her shield intercept trick as a response to incoming blows from the opposition?)
As Enwynn silently watches for trouble and listens for truth, hunting for a solution in an almost invisible to the eye sliver of hope, somehow that tiny possibility grows larger than even a dragon's heart.
It is all she can do not to laugh in sheer delight at the unexpected joy of it all, as it strikes her that may not be the most diplomatic response to one of Sindala, Sister of Libra's most dazzling of smiles upon any mortal's desperate plea in hope.
Ori: "There was alot of wisdom and bravery in what I tried to say, but all I did was butcher the words. I've hear those words before, but it took until now for me to realize the wisdom behind them. The credit should be Meabh's for being able to hear it."
"Butchered? Matters not. Meaning was clear. Tha's all tha' matters."Vardi replies quietly, then offers "Aye. Here was me thinkin' ta stop her with force when ye held back her undying rage wi' naught but truthful words."
The Joturnkin's look to Famh is one of wry amusement at her own foolishness as she concludes "Should have paid more attention tha first time that proved effective..."
Skoggi, no longer glaring saucer-eyed into darkness and death, pauses from meticulously washing his forepaws in and utters a soft mew in apparent agreement.
Vardi says quietly to Famh in reassurance as she passes her in change of watch "Tha price of Meabh's death has been paid three-fold. Answered for by King's law and by ancient custom in full. This I ha' witnessed, but will speak of only if required ta answer ta tha Crown's request." then makes gesture as if stamping a heavy seal down upon her lips.
With that said, the Lyften lass walks to her bedroll to sleep with an unworried mind and a warm heart, which in light of the events of the last few nights, is a wonder in itself.
Vardi, given the silent reminder from Ori to hold fast to duty, does not rush to grapple with the tragic results of unresolved wrongs, but merely nods in agreement. She does offer Dochartaigh a gentle hand to his feet, even if her face shows no sign of pity.
...Give it a chance... She hopes to herself ...Come on lass, break tha pattern, nay chain yerself to a man's cruelty forever...
Her gaze stays on Meabh, or what once was her, and hopes that words from another man might reach further than any of her own might. The weight of Skoggavardi on her shoulder still, serene in his poise despite the vengeful dead's presence nearby, gives her some hope that Ori's lion-hearted diplomacy may yet see justice done.
...Land, People and Crown. Live or dead, she's a person, or was, and may yet still be... holds her to the spot, that and a fear she dare not dwell on, lest it break her calm.
That's three...She thinks as the twisted one meets with justice from beyond the grave ...Is it enough?
The only words spoken by the icy shade of Meabh seem to indicate that perhaps bloodprice has finally been met. The smile of relief that brings to her lips is brief, but real.
Ori: "Best go now before she changes my mind."
Again, the Lyftenwoman silently nods in agreement. All she says to Dochartaigh is a quiet hiss of "Ye live, but only by her choice. Give me no reason ta question her wisdom."
A chunk of hacksilver bracelet is added to the golden coins as she speaks, an easier currency for a farmer to spend without questions asked.
Only when the lad starts walking does she murmur to Ori "Ye are brave, tha' I knew, but I dinae saw tha wisdom in ye afore now. Thank ye, but please, get by tha fire sharpish now. One frozen corpse is enough fer a night if ye ask me!"
Famh's cheerful declaration is met with utter confusion, then an embarrassed smile as she concludes that she may have escaped the ice maiden's attentions, but nothing evades the fire-haired wonderworker's sharp eyes, and that is a test of Vardi's own diplomatic skills, meagre as they may be.
"Night's still yet ta pass. If she's taken one but left tha other alive, maybe she's finally free of wha' bound her to them?" she says, choosing to concentrate on the matter at hand.
Vardi seethes under the surface of an indifferent guard's blank expression. She keeps her tongue still, and her hands flat as the whole of the sorry tale is told between blows and curses, and simply watches as an unsettling revelation is made by Morag's father after the contrite lad, Dochartaigh's account to him. There is murder in her heart, duty in her head, and justice between them both preaching patience in an increasingly nervous tone.
...Bloody idiots, all four o'them. But as fer tha' damn lad Loch? There be something twisted about him...the Lyften woman thinks darkly, pondering Loch's furious depth of apparent hatred of anything woman-shaped.
...Who turned tha screw on tha' lad, or did he twist himself out'o'true, nayone ta blame fer it but himself? she silently asks herself, then sighs quietly, knowing whatever the reason, the consequences of that twisting are already too dear to allow it free reign again.
Vardi puts her qualms aside and accepts that whatever geas of Lord, People and Land has dragged her forth from castle's walls to this matter and these outlandish yet solidly good-hearted folk must be answered for, feud settled, bloodprice paid or unquiet lie the dead and the living as well.
So she does what she can, until what else should be done becomes clearer to her, unsure that all is as simple as it seems to be on the surface, but trusts in Ser Almeric and his gathered champion's wide experience in wyrd goings on to offer guidance past the hazards unseen.
The Joturnkin murmurs to an apparently aloof Skoggi on her shoulder "I cannae turn away fra this quandry, aye, but I cannae fathom it's roots either. Whatever tha' outcome, I will do what I can ta see justice fairly done though, rough and ready as tha' may be..."as she sits huddled in her cloak, cold not from the winter's chill, but by the evil that lads do in the name of a bit of fun.
Tzedaka: "I vonder if an arrangement can be made between the dwarves and Ardereinextinctus."
Enwynn, no longer equine as speed is of little usein this situation, nods and murmurs "Fire and earth create many lasting works of beauty between them. Perhaps this is another one?" in a hopeful tone.
Her eyes linger on the signs of captivity left on Ardereinextinctus, her ears hear the pride in their denial of being a captive, and rather than pity, the druidess finds herself fiercely glad the spirit has not been beaten out of them entirely. She does not allow that approval to think them any less foolish for being susceptible to Zagor's flattery in the past, nor any less capable of turning them all into very well-done snacks indeed if angered, yet the hope remains.
Enwynn holds on to that tiny sliver of possibility and keeps her wits about her.
(Insight: Total of 11, with Nature: Total of 22because trying to read a dragon's body language and facial expressions is an unusual situation. Is Ardereinextinctus telling the truth thus far?)
Vardi, who has been silent after making her report to Ser Almeric, still watches from the entrance, wary of further manifestations of cold. For one who most usually fears not the ice and snow of Winter, the warrior woman looks troubled even as the feeling returns to her chilled fingers.
She does look to the glowering lad as she mutters in a tone of bitter wonder "Lucky little..." then in belated wisdom shuts her mouth.
Vari leans in and murmurs in Ori's ear "Reckon she's nae likely ta give up fra long, Sarge, but she'd be dafter tha' she's played us fra so far if she tried again tonight."
She waits patiently for any further orders before leaving the hall, still alert for sudden threats, for all her reasoning otherwise.
With a cautious cat dogging her steps, she makes her way slowly back to the room shared with Famh, her mind ablaze with wild thoughts as she attempts to understand what manner of spirit behaves as this one does.
OOC: After careful checking, War Horse is CR 1/2 and Deer are CR 0 (They have a Flee without invoking attacks of opportunity trick that puts their CR up.) so while Enwynn can't turn into a Deer until Level 8, a Warhorse is possible right now. Thank you for the info, dndpro100.
Enwynn nods in agreement, looks towards the dragon and says "One must survive history to write about it. That looks pretty historical to me..."even as her feet begin to change to something faster than elven ones.
The druidess twists and shifts into a heftier equine form, a light chestnut-coloured mare with darker black mane and tail, and hooves the size of banqueting plates. There is a moment of unsteadiness as Enwynn adjusts to four feet on the ground, then the destrier darts after the rest of the party, rapidly gaining speed.
Sir Almeric scanned the room, " Vardi? Are you well enough to give the Sheriff a report? Where are the others?"
"Aye Ser." Vardi responds rapidly, grateful for the wall's support even as she worries about the floor's security, followed by "They're headed same direction tha last scream came from." and points, unsure of her compass but not her hearing. The Joturnkin woman adds "Mistress Famh drew the icy spirit's attention wi' her song fra a moment, or I'd nae be here ta tell ye at all! I suspect tha' cold lass is running around like a drainpipe rat, underfoot and unseen."
She jerks a still purplish thumb at the glowering lad and offers "Cold blue hand came up fra tha' flagstones and grabbed him. Grabbed the grabber. Cold as ice. Nae ta sure wha' occured after tha'. Dragged him back fra tha hand. Cold lass gone after tha'. Leastways gone fra right here."
Vardi, after assuring herself that Skoggi is unharmed by his alarming experience sits a moment on the bench, pondering the last few frantic moments from an icy floor in a fire-warmed room to grappling a blue hand from nowhere.
Three things come to her mind, and she speaks with honest confusion as she offers quietly "That one's name won't stop whatever be at hand here. Where water goes, so can ice.There's eno heat in Master Unheralded there's glance to warm up his eyelids again fra tha inside..."
She glowers back as she concludes "And I cannay ask anyone ta take a cure I will nay use myself." then pushes herself off the bench, leaning against the wall to support herself with her shield arm.
The Lyften lass checks her beltpouch, swears under her breath, and attempts to make her way back to the room shared with Famh in search of the Mistress O'Winter's Heather Salve.
OOC: Medicine check on Vardi from Vardi, total of 6. Arcana check from Vardi on Blue Folk in any tale she's heard, total again of 6. How is she, other than confused and chilled?
0
Vardi has been short on words after the fury of combat, only inquiring if her comrades are well with a pottery jar of heather salve in her hand and praising Skokki quietly for his bravery as she feeds him.
Sometimes the Joturn-kin looks sideways at the captive harbringer, with the air of a child who has met with a monster in the dark from the tales, found them less fearsome than the tales told of, yet is still cautious of what claws might be but sheathed for now.
Indeed, the Lytenwoman's silence is a sign of much thought as she considers what little she knows of Harbringers and their ways, and finds herself without answers, something that troubles her more deeply than she would be easily willing to admit.
So she nods in agreement with keeping them in front of the party at all times, then watches and listens, curiosity tempered by caution, guarding against what she does not know, but feels as if she should.
The enemy knight she treats with polite indifference, seeing him as a threat known of old to the others of the retinue, thus a threat without mystery in their malice. The matter of their current errantry being of their own malice or at the behest of a higher malevolence is one she can offer only a wry guess at.
Vardi offers in a whisper in passing to Ser Almeric "I cannae speak of Albish stipends, but I'd doubt tha' yon ass in armour paid fer those who came with him out of his own purse, nay matter wha' he brays."
She gathers together and searches the bodies of the fallen Harbringers with nervous care under the branches of the nearest large tree to the path, as one thing the tales did oft mention was poison, a danger that she'd rather was not left lying by the roadside for the unwary to find.
OOC: Sorry for being slow in posting. Life happens, and a lot of it all at once this week. @OsinmacCameron: Glad to hear your mum is in recovery.
Also OOC: Perception Check for Vardi while moving/searching bodies of 14.
0
Init 14
0
(Vardi: 2nd Wind against 17 damage gets it down to 5 damage.)
0
Vardi considers the situation, but having deduced that Almeric's head price does not appear to include a body, discards discourse, civil or otherwise, as a means of resolving the matter.
Instead, she slips her arm into her shield's grips and slaps her visor down as she swiftly moves up to where she can use her shield to protect the others.
(Can Vadri hold attack, move up with the other fighters and use her shield intercept trick as a response to incoming blows from the opposition?)
0
As Enwynn silently watches for trouble and listens for truth, hunting for a solution in an almost invisible to the eye sliver of hope, somehow that tiny possibility grows larger than even a dragon's heart.
It is all she can do not to laugh in sheer delight at the unexpected joy of it all, as it strikes her that may not be the most diplomatic response to one of Sindala, Sister of Libra's most dazzling of smiles upon any mortal's desperate plea in hope.
0
Ori: "There was alot of wisdom and bravery in what I tried to say, but all I did was butcher the words. I've hear those words before, but it took until now for me to realize the wisdom behind them. The credit should be Meabh's for being able to hear it."
"Butchered? Matters not. Meaning was clear. Tha's all tha' matters." Vardi replies quietly, then offers "Aye. Here was me thinkin' ta stop her with force when ye held back her undying rage wi' naught but truthful words."
The Joturnkin's look to Famh is one of wry amusement at her own foolishness as she concludes "Should have paid more attention tha first time that proved effective..."
Skoggi, no longer glaring saucer-eyed into darkness and death, pauses from meticulously washing his forepaws in and utters a soft mew in apparent agreement.
Vardi says quietly to Famh in reassurance as she passes her in change of watch "Tha price of Meabh's death has been paid three-fold. Answered for by King's law and by ancient custom in full. This I ha' witnessed, but will speak of only if required ta answer ta tha Crown's request." then makes gesture as if stamping a heavy seal down upon her lips.
With that said, the Lyften lass walks to her bedroll to sleep with an unworried mind and a warm heart, which in light of the events of the last few nights, is a wonder in itself.
0
Vardi, given the silent reminder from Ori to hold fast to duty, does not rush to grapple with the tragic results of unresolved wrongs, but merely nods in agreement. She does offer Dochartaigh a gentle hand to his feet, even if her face shows no sign of pity.
...Give it a chance... She hopes to herself ...Come on lass, break tha pattern, nay chain yerself to a man's cruelty forever...
Her gaze stays on Meabh, or what once was her, and hopes that words from another man might reach further than any of her own might. The weight of Skoggavardi on her shoulder still, serene in his poise despite the vengeful dead's presence nearby, gives her some hope that Ori's lion-hearted diplomacy may yet see justice done.
...Land, People and Crown. Live or dead, she's a person, or was, and may yet still be... holds her to the spot, that and a fear she dare not dwell on, lest it break her calm.
That's three... She thinks as the twisted one meets with justice from beyond the grave ...Is it enough?
The only words spoken by the icy shade of Meabh seem to indicate that perhaps bloodprice has finally been met. The smile of relief that brings to her lips is brief, but real.
Ori: "Best go now before she changes my mind."
Again, the Lyftenwoman silently nods in agreement. All she says to Dochartaigh is a quiet hiss of "Ye live, but only by her choice. Give me no reason ta question her wisdom."
A chunk of hacksilver bracelet is added to the golden coins as she speaks, an easier currency for a farmer to spend without questions asked.
Only when the lad starts walking does she murmur to Ori "Ye are brave, tha' I knew, but I dinae saw tha wisdom in ye afore now. Thank ye, but please, get by tha fire sharpish now. One frozen corpse is enough fer a night if ye ask me!"
Famh's cheerful declaration is met with utter confusion, then an embarrassed smile as she concludes that she may have escaped the ice maiden's attentions, but nothing evades the fire-haired wonderworker's sharp eyes, and that is a test of Vardi's own diplomatic skills, meagre as they may be.
"Night's still yet ta pass. If she's taken one but left tha other alive, maybe she's finally free of wha' bound her to them?" she says, choosing to concentrate on the matter at hand.
0
(Vardi will. Whatever is going on, she'll be there.)
0
Vardi seethes under the surface of an indifferent guard's blank expression. She keeps her tongue still, and her hands flat as the whole of the sorry tale is told between blows and curses, and simply watches as an unsettling revelation is made by Morag's father after the contrite lad, Dochartaigh's account to him. There is murder in her heart, duty in her head, and justice between them both preaching patience in an increasingly nervous tone.
...Bloody idiots, all four o'them. But as fer tha' damn lad Loch? There be something twisted about him... the Lyften woman thinks darkly, pondering Loch's furious depth of apparent hatred of anything woman-shaped.
...Who turned tha screw on tha' lad, or did he twist himself out'o'true, nayone ta blame fer it but himself? she silently asks herself, then sighs quietly, knowing whatever the reason, the consequences of that twisting are already too dear to allow it free reign again.
Vardi puts her qualms aside and accepts that whatever geas of Lord, People and Land has dragged her forth from castle's walls to this matter and these outlandish yet solidly good-hearted folk must be answered for, feud settled, bloodprice paid or unquiet lie the dead and the living as well.
So she does what she can, until what else should be done becomes clearer to her, unsure that all is as simple as it seems to be on the surface, but trusts in Ser Almeric and his gathered champion's wide experience in wyrd goings on to offer guidance past the hazards unseen.
The Joturnkin murmurs to an apparently aloof Skoggi on her shoulder "I cannae turn away fra this quandry, aye, but I cannae fathom it's roots either. Whatever tha' outcome, I will do what I can ta see justice fairly done though, rough and ready as tha' may be..." as she sits huddled in her cloak, cold not from the winter's chill, but by the evil that lads do in the name of a bit of fun.
0
Tzedaka: "I vonder if an arrangement can be made between the dwarves and Ardereinextinctus."
Enwynn, no longer equine as speed is of little usein this situation, nods and murmurs "Fire and earth create many lasting works of beauty between them. Perhaps this is another one?" in a hopeful tone.
Her eyes linger on the signs of captivity left on Ardereinextinctus, her ears hear the pride in their denial of being a captive, and rather than pity, the druidess finds herself fiercely glad the spirit has not been beaten out of them entirely. She does not allow that approval to think them any less foolish for being susceptible to Zagor's flattery in the past, nor any less capable of turning them all into very well-done snacks indeed if angered, yet the hope remains.
Enwynn holds on to that tiny sliver of possibility and keeps her wits about her.
(Insight: Total of 11, with Nature: Total of 22 because trying to read a dragon's body language and facial expressions is an unusual situation. Is Ardereinextinctus telling the truth thus far?)
0
Vardi, who has been silent after making her report to Ser Almeric, still watches from the entrance, wary of further manifestations of cold. For one who most usually fears not the ice and snow of Winter, the warrior woman looks troubled even as the feeling returns to her chilled fingers.
She does look to the glowering lad as she mutters in a tone of bitter wonder "Lucky little..." then in belated wisdom shuts her mouth.
Vari leans in and murmurs in Ori's ear "Reckon she's nae likely ta give up fra long, Sarge, but she'd be dafter tha' she's played us fra so far if she tried again tonight."
She waits patiently for any further orders before leaving the hall, still alert for sudden threats, for all her reasoning otherwise.
With a cautious cat dogging her steps, she makes her way slowly back to the room shared with Famh, her mind ablaze with wild thoughts as she attempts to understand what manner of spirit behaves as this one does.
0
OOC: After careful checking, War Horse is CR 1/2 and Deer are CR 0 (They have a Flee without invoking attacks of opportunity trick that puts their CR up.) so while Enwynn can't turn into a Deer until Level 8, a Warhorse is possible right now. Thank you for the info, dndpro100.
0
Enwynn nods in agreement, looks towards the dragon and says "One must survive history to write about it. That looks pretty historical to me..." even as her feet begin to change to something faster than elven ones.
The druidess twists and shifts into a heftier equine form, a light chestnut-coloured mare with darker black mane and tail, and hooves the size of banqueting plates. There is a moment of unsteadiness as Enwynn adjusts to four feet on the ground, then the destrier darts after the rest of the party, rapidly gaining speed.
OOC: Anyone need a lift?
0
Sir Almeric scanned the room, " Vardi? Are you well enough to give the Sheriff a report? Where are the others?"
"Aye Ser." Vardi responds rapidly, grateful for the wall's support even as she worries about the floor's security, followed by "They're headed same direction tha last scream came from." and points, unsure of her compass but not her hearing. The Joturnkin woman adds "Mistress Famh drew the icy spirit's attention wi' her song fra a moment, or I'd nae be here ta tell ye at all! I suspect tha' cold lass is running around like a drainpipe rat, underfoot and unseen."
She jerks a still purplish thumb at the glowering lad and offers "Cold blue hand came up fra tha' flagstones and grabbed him. Grabbed the grabber. Cold as ice. Nae ta sure wha' occured after tha'. Dragged him back fra tha hand. Cold lass gone after tha'. Leastways gone fra right here."
0
Vardi, after assuring herself that Skoggi is unharmed by his alarming experience sits a moment on the bench, pondering the last few frantic moments from an icy floor in a fire-warmed room to grappling a blue hand from nowhere.
Three things come to her mind, and she speaks with honest confusion as she offers quietly "That one's name won't stop whatever be at hand here. Where water goes, so can ice.There's eno heat in Master Unheralded there's glance to warm up his eyelids again fra tha inside..."
She glowers back as she concludes "And I cannay ask anyone ta take a cure I will nay use myself." then pushes herself off the bench, leaning against the wall to support herself with her shield arm.
The Lyften lass checks her beltpouch, swears under her breath, and attempts to make her way back to the room shared with Famh in search of the Mistress O'Winter's Heather Salve.
OOC: Medicine check on Vardi from Vardi, total of 6. Arcana check from Vardi on Blue Folk in any tale she's heard, total again of 6. How is she, other than confused and chilled?