The Sky Breathes All Life - IC

Lord Wyrm said:

Duncan stands from where he sits in the mess tent. Proceeding with the fluid grace of someone who has done a job for a very long time he gathers his food and moves to sit with the young warlock girl.

"Anxious about the upcoming battle? The test of your mettle is not far off." Duncan spoke without an hint of emotion. More like a sage consulting a grimore or witness to an event than a soldier talking to another. "Or would fear better describe your state of mind? I am curious."

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Lily looks up from the last bits of her breakfast, startled to be addressed. She relaxes on recognizing the man. She shrugs at his questions and says, "It's still a bit...distant for fear, I think. That will come when I see the elf ships coming at us from the sky. Right now I'm just...thinking. Going through all the steps that led me here." She smiles absently and prods a little chunk of ham with her spoon. "Wondering if any were missteps, maybe."

"What about you? Just because you're not going to be on the deck, or boarding, doesn't mean your life won't be in danger."

Shayuri said:

Lily looks up from the last bits of her breakfast, startled to be addressed. She relaxes on recognizing the man. She shrugs at his questions and says, "It's still a bit...distant for fear, I think. That will come when I see the elf ships coming at us from the sky. Right now I'm just...thinking. Going through all the steps that led me here." She smiles absently and prods a little chunk of ham with her spoon. "Wondering if any were missteps, maybe."

"What about you? Just because you're not going to be on the deck, or boarding, doesn't mean your life won't be in danger."

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"My skills lie not only in the workings of ships and sail, keeping myself alive will not be an issue. What I find intriguing is the tension here." In some way Duncan seemed disquieting when he spoke, shivers running up one's spine were not uncommon. "Tell me, when the battle starts do you think only of duty, or just death? Do you lose the fear or do you feed on it like nectar? Does it give you strength, or do you bury it deep inside hoping that which beckons to your soul does not find you?" A little direct but quite effective. Duncan gave a wry smile, anyone who stood to his questions would break to him given time. This he had proven over the course of a lifetime, why should this child be any different?

How long until this one breaks Vaeris thought in his minds eye, that concern for her past and for his well being gave the child away and gave Duncan an instrument through which he could work. The dark powers this one drew power from were a weakness, one Duncan would exploit for all he could. Right now the child shunned the evil within her but given bloodshed and war that would change, and when the time was right Duncan would offer a new light.

Lily unconsiously sat up a little straighter as the questions turned more probing; more personal. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly. Of course, she didn't -have- to answer, but there was an odd pressure to do so. A unnamed, nearly unconscious feeling that to back down in the face of these questions would be...what? Dangerous? Hardly! Duncan was no soldier, and the worse she risked with him was delays in having equipment fixed. Still, she could humor him.

"It's not really like that," she replies. "There's fear in battle, sure...it keeps you alert. Keeps you alive. But at the same time, if you let it control you, then you can't think straight, and won't last long. My drill instructor talked about fear as 'dancing with your brother at the ball.' You hold him at arms length." Lily smiles.

"I guess, in all truth, that kind of balance isn't easy for me. Not yet. But that's what I aim for. That's the ideal I focus on. It's worked so far."

She shrugs, and adds, "You ask some odd questions, you know that?"

Her answers were, of course, incomplete at best. She felt no need to tell him that she was of two minds during battle. One mind consumed with the thrill; the savage, bloody rush of apparently limitless power being directed and seeing men fall to it. The other mind was herself, sickened by the greasy sweet taste of her own abilities, terrified of dying before she could atone for her own existance. Sometimes she questioned this path as being the one she needed. A penitent, perhaps, or cloistered somewhere. But on an intuitive level, she felt that actions were what defined a person. She could live her life shut away, but it would prove nothing. But acts of valor would wash away the cowardice that lurked in her. Acts of nobility would stack feathers alongside the rank, dark coal on the scales of her judgement. At least, that was the hope she clung to.

Sye:

[sblock]The commanders give you all the pertinent information from the previous night, none of which is terribly exciting. It seems that the Elves are preparing much like your forces are, and there's been no reason to believe that it would be different, until tomorrow, when you're scheduled to take off, hopefully a little earlier than the Elves. In addition, Alister Delbraeth, your commanding officer at the meeting, is there when you are, recognition of you shines in his eyes. On another note, there IS a "pleasure tent" so to speak, a sort of tavern that most go to, though not nearly big enough to fit the entire army. The place is pretty packed though. If you want, you can make a perform check for the night of work to see if you can make any coin, or I can make it for you if you like.[/sblock]

Duncan and Lily:

[sblock]As your conversation continues, more and more people are gathering their things and leaving the mess tent, while fewer and fewer are entering for breakfast. You seem to be in an area with no one else near by.[/sblock]

"I only ask the questions you refuse to ask yourself." Duncan leaned in closer. "Don't trust everything your drill sergeants tell you, describing what it feels like in battle is hard in the human tongue. They don't know everything, especially the fear. The strength the fear can give you, it is mighty and hard to stop, but using it makes you something less than human. There are better ways to go about it."

Duncan looked about the room noticing the people filing out slowly. He rose menacingly, seeming an imposing mass of black from the young warlock's posistion. The next words to issue from him seemed harsh and yet flowing, obviously no human language.

(for those who speak Infernal)
[sblock]"Not all that is black is bad."[/sblock]

"Come talk to me about your views when you have shed blood." on that Duncan took his leave of the young warlock, moving to his tent gathering his equipment for the upcoming battle. Stowing his gear so that it would be difficult to find he set about his tasks for the day.

After her duties completed, Sye does infact go to the "pleasure tent." Upon arrival - and seeing the packed crowd, she steps back outside and pulls out her fiddle and begins to tune it once more by hand. After a few minutes she is satisfied that it will give her a good performance.

She walks in to find whomever the commander or officer in charge of the tent may be. Upon finding this officer, Sye adds, "I think the soldiers may just be a little tense the night before headin' off ta battle, don't ya think? If you'd give me time on the stage, I'd sure like the oppportunity to play for their spirits - and perhaps whatever tips they might see fit to give me?" She smiles at the officer and awaits their approval.

[Sblock]Perform check Dance/Stringed Instruments. Check is +15 [3 (mod) + 6 (ranks) + 6 (MWK fiddle, Feat: Nymph's Kiss, and Feat: Versatile Performer)[/Sblock]

Alister spends the first few hours of the day trailing a pace behind his father's right shoulder, observing all he does and says and responding in brief, efficient terms to the questions that his father periodically shot back at him in his spare moments. He is very used to this kind of activity, having spent most of his life being drilled to be the perfect shadow to his father. He does not enjoy it, and in fact if he allowed himself to think about it he would be endlessly bitter about it - but he does not. He does not allow his mind to wander into doubt or resentment, but keeps it focused on the matters at hand. He has learned through long experience that that is the easiest way to get by.

The tedium is finally broken by Sye's arrival for an update on the enemy troop movements. This girl has been appointed as his own advisor on certain matters, and so he feels able to take her arrival as an excuse to break off briefly from his father. He waits until she is finished conversing with the commander and then, with a small, formal bow to him Alister drops back to talk to her. It's unlikely that she suspects quite what a relief her company is to him, for he does not speak with any emotion and does not even indulge in any pleasantries, but simply asks her to fill him in on the state of the troops' morale. The conversation is entirely formal and businesslike, but for Alister it is a bright spot in an otherwise entirely dreary day. This is the closest he comes to enjoying a normal conversation with someone, since he at least feels able to talk to her somewhat on his own terms, without being constantly aware of his father's scrutiny weighing and judging all that he does or says.

Following that interlude, he returns to his father for another hour or so before taking leave of him to see to his own preparations for the battle ahead, retiring to his quarters to pore over maps, charts, and correspondance. He doesn't truly require this extensive knowledge of all the surrounding circumstances to the battle in order to fulfil his role - which is in truth fairly limited - but he knows that his father will expect him to not only perform his ostensible duties, but also to have a good enough hold on the military circumstances to be able to command the whole battle himself, though he certainly won't be trusted with such great responsibility for many years yet.

As the day begins to darken into dusk he goes in search of Jonathan Vars, hoping for a report on the status of the essential maintenance checks that will have to be done before the ship's departure the next day.

OOC:
[sblock]I've fast-forwarded through the conversation with Sye since nonlethal force has already started talking about her actions for the evening. Hope that's okay. Jemal, if you just want to tell me where Alister will find Jonathan we can RP out that conversation, or feel free to fast forward through that too if you'd rather keep things moving. Your call I guess.[/sblock]

Sye:

"Ahh Miss Dillinger! Of COURSE you can! Just the thing we need to brighten up the night! Never good to have fearful or grumbling troops the night before a great battle...and bring in a little more business! Just wait until this dancing girl's set is over - shouldn't be too long - and you can go right on up! Ugh.. just awful..."

He trails off as he looks up at the somewhat unpracticed dancing girl, and turns to other matters. Once her set is over, no one else comes on stage, and she receives little applause as she prances off stage, her demeanor looking destitute.

[sblock]Your perform check will net you 23 silver as you perform throughout the night. In addition, the audience never seems to tire of you, allowing you to stay on stage as long as you like, much to the delight of the tent's manager. Perform Check[/sblock]

Duncan:

Your daily duties completed, all of which were uneventful, your path eventually takes you to the often cramped pleasure tent. You arrive in the middle of a stirring performance by Sye Dillinger, the most popular entertainer in the camp. The place is truly packed, with only standing room available, but plenty of ale if desired. Though the tent can barely fit any more people, a few human waitresses deftly make their way among the crowd, cleaning up and supplying drinks to the various patrons, almost all of which are humans or dwarves. You see a few of the men you work with among the crowd in separate spots, each of which would be difficult for a man of your size to get to, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.

Alister:

You walk among the rank and file of the army's inner quarters, which is where Jonathan Vars specifically requested his tent to be located. Men huddle around camp fire as the day begins to turn to night, accompanied by a slight chill in the air. You can tell that Fall is well underway, slowly giving way to the cold of Winter-to-come. You approach the slightly open flap of Jonathan's tent, light spilling out onto the ground in front of you.

OOC for everyone:

[sblock]Still waiting on Jemal of course, so Eluvan, you can take the reigns on that one, and if you get no response we can just move through it. I'm aware of AmorFati's plight as well, so if he gets a chance he can jump in anywhere here, but otherwise I can fast forward him through this part, hoping he can get in on the action of "tomorrow" once it starts. If that beginning happens to be before next weekend, which is when he said he will be able to get online next, then we can just play it by ear concerning his character.[/sblock]

As the prior performed is coming of the stage, Sye accidentally bumps her shoulder. "Oh, terribly sorry, miss. I didn't mean to bump you like that. As long as I have your attention, though, I will say that I enjoyed the show - or rather what I saw of it. I came in after you had already begun. I think it is just wonderful that people are willing to share their talents to inspire the troops. Good luck with the future performances!"

Sye turns and trots up the stairs and pulls out her fiddle and begins to play and dance around the stage, using the enthusiasm in the crowd to spur her own performance on. She plays for almost an hour and a half, switching between dancing along with two or three fast paced songs and then taking a stool and sitting to sing some poetry as she played a slower ballad ... only to begin again with some more upbeat performances. At the end of her set, she rises from one final ballad and takes a deep bow. "I'll be along for the ride and the fight, soldiers - so make me proud when we take to the air!" She lifts her instrument high into the air in a gesture of confident victory on behalf of the gathered people.

Lord Wyrm said:

"I only ask the questions you refuse to ask yourself." Duncan leaned in closer. "Don't trust everything your drill sergeants tell you, describing what it feels like in battle is hard in the human tongue. They don't know everything, especially the fear. The strength the fear can give you, it is mighty and hard to stop, but using it makes you something less than human. There are better ways to go about it."

Duncan looked about the room noticing the people filing out slowly. He rose menacingly, seeming an imposing mass of black from the young warlock's posistion. The next words to issue from him seemed harsh and yet flowing, obviously no human language.

(for those who speak Infernal)
[sblock]"Not all that is black is bad."[/sblock]

"Come talk to me about your views when you have shed blood." on that Duncan took his leave of the young warlock, moving to his tent gathering his equipment for the upcoming battle. Stowing his gear so that it would be difficult to find he set about his tasks for the day.

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Lily sat where she was for a long moment, flabbergasted. The remains of her breakfast forgotten, she got up and trotted to the mess tent's flap to peer out. Exactly who did Duncan think he -was- anyway? To claim to know better than a drill instructor who'd been in more wars than Duncan had years of age! And did he truly think Lily was some innocent stripling just fallen from her father's wagon? She'd been in more than one battle, and yes, she'd seen elves fall before her. Whatever conflicts that might provoke in her, she was not untried in battle, though by no means a grizzled veteran.

Whatever words she may have had for Duncan though were in vain. He was gone. And what in -blazes- was that he'd said? That short sentence that sounded like some vile oath, but which, on reflection, she realized she had no idea what the words had been. If they'd even BEEN words. Maybe just some kind of made-up blather, to lend strength to his insults. Like blowing one's tongue out. Though she couldn't imagine Duncan doing that. He didn't seem to have the sense of humor for it.

The midmorning bells tolled, and Lily's stomach went sour. She didn't have TIME for this! Turning lightly on foot, she rushed from the mess tent back to her own to grab her pack. Most of the day was spent in drill after drill. Combat readiness. Skirmishing. Anything else the officers could think of. By the time Lily returned to her tent to get her things stowed and ready, she walked with a tired plodding. Still, when the order came to move, it would be too late to grab belongings then. When she noticed the puddle on the ground, she cursed...stupid...stupid...

Careless. One of the spikes on her warglove had torn a hole in her waterskin. She'd put them too close together, and someone, maybe her, had kicked them against each other in the nights. Fortunately nothing had been on TOP of the skin, so the leakage wasn't bad, nor wide. But she'd need a new skin, or this one stitched.

Taking the wounded waterskin carefully with her, Lily stepped outside and wrung it out over the grass. She then looked around to get her bearings, and set off at a fast, loping jog towards the supplies tent. If Jon was there, he might fix it. If not, she could get a replacement.

(Note - edited to temporally place Lily at the supply tent at more or less the same time other people will be there. So ha! )