Sparky
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Rainca smolders at Therick's bleating over their victory. When she helps the others get Gath and the fallen bandit into the wagon she, grinning her wolfish grin, makes sure that they are inconveniently placed for Therick's comfort. She whispers quietly into Gath's ear, "Be sure not to crowd the Count Soul Man too much." She uses Gath's phrase.
After some time Rainca is done gathering her fallen weapons, praying over them. Done seeing to the dead, praying over them. But she is not yet done seeing to the living. She seems oddly cheered by the whole affair as she rejoins the group, but casts one troubled, searching glance off to the west. Where did you run to, little bandit? Chasing Brother Owl?
She nods at Dioran's words and claps him heartily on the shoulder. "Yes." She beams, "We fought as one. Rainca knows many blooded warriors who have not fought so well." Her brow furrows as she stoops and opens her pack, "But there are things Rainca thinks we must discuss before we next meet the bandits. Until then," she draws out her mugs and her wine skin, "Share a drink with Rainca, a taste of the Laugher's Blood! We live!" She throws back her head and roars a laugh. Of sorts. She passes out two mugs with a mere splash of wine in each - just enough to fill the nose and mouth with vapor, taste. She jumps lightly into the wagon with Gath, "You too, warrior Gath. Rainca did not forget you." She carefully administers her offering to her unconscious comrade. "Rest, and dream of battle."
***********
Rainca stays nearer the wagon with Therick's assurances that his Bluerun is close. She takes the opportunity to introduce herself and the others to their prisoners cheerfully ignoring their fear, disgust or indifference.
"That one there," she points, "The one with the sash, is Therick. He is an honored man amongst his people."
"He," Rainca nods toward Redarn, "Is Redarn. A friend of horses. A brave man."
"This one," she points to the bald spell slinger, "The one with dots instead of hair. He is Dioran, a mighty weaver of magics."
She grins at Lupic, indicating his deadly spikes, "And this is Lupic. Rainca does not know where this one comes from, but it must be a very dangerous place. She has never seen anyone so fierce as he..."
"...not counting Gath. So eager for blood, he charged, without a thought for fear, right at your leader." She pauses briefly to scan the surroundings and the sky, ever watchful.
She inclines her head toward Joseph Dar'maryon, "The dark one is Joseph Dar'maryon. He..." She hesitates, "Rainca will not say anything of Joseph Dar'maryon save this: Where we go, people will listen when he speaks. And he speaks fairly. More than any other, your lives rest in his hands. Do not anger him." She pauses, considering her words, and nods decisively.
Thumping her chest with a clenched fist she, "Rainca of the Barav Kree greets you. There is more to Rainca's name, but that is for another time."
For the rest of the way to Bluerun she hums tunes to herself and speaks with the prisoners, her comrades-in-arms and Redarn.
***********
When the group arrives at Bluerun she swells with pride at being greeted like triumphant returning warriors. But when the crowd turns ugly, she interposes herself between them and the prisoners, snarling at any who get too near. So much anger here. So much loss. This is not a happy place. She gives a solemn nod to Joseph Dar'maryon when Therick doesn't surrender the prisoners to the angry townsfolk. And she nods mentally at Lupic's words agreeing with the sentiment wholeheartedly, but she is wary.
These people are angry and thirst for blood. Rainca cannot blame them, but the time has not yet come for revenge. She studies the people quietly, looking for their individual reactions, trying to pick out any who are very angry as well as those who seem kind or sad.
***********
As Therick addresses his people and Redarn begins to see to the horses, Rainca gestures the others over and in a quiet voice says, "Rainca has no trust in these people to protect or keep the prisoners. The prisoners are... what is the word... veshayin." She sighs, exasperated. "Important. Rainca will stay with the prisoners. Another will not escape."
When the healers come she unwinds one of her many sashes for each, the cleaner ones, of course, as an offering. "Amongst Rainca's people it is customary to present healers with a gift." She holds out the sash in both hands, palms up and open, smiling gently. "Rainca does not have much, and this is a poor offering, but if you like, she can play for you while you work." She touches the small, carved flute, her eyes unfathomable.
OOC: Sorry for the long post. I got a little carried away. ...please, anyone, jump in at any point in the above Litany of the Kree. I don't want to hog.
After some time Rainca is done gathering her fallen weapons, praying over them. Done seeing to the dead, praying over them. But she is not yet done seeing to the living. She seems oddly cheered by the whole affair as she rejoins the group, but casts one troubled, searching glance off to the west. Where did you run to, little bandit? Chasing Brother Owl?
She nods at Dioran's words and claps him heartily on the shoulder. "Yes." She beams, "We fought as one. Rainca knows many blooded warriors who have not fought so well." Her brow furrows as she stoops and opens her pack, "But there are things Rainca thinks we must discuss before we next meet the bandits. Until then," she draws out her mugs and her wine skin, "Share a drink with Rainca, a taste of the Laugher's Blood! We live!" She throws back her head and roars a laugh. Of sorts. She passes out two mugs with a mere splash of wine in each - just enough to fill the nose and mouth with vapor, taste. She jumps lightly into the wagon with Gath, "You too, warrior Gath. Rainca did not forget you." She carefully administers her offering to her unconscious comrade. "Rest, and dream of battle."
***********
Rainca stays nearer the wagon with Therick's assurances that his Bluerun is close. She takes the opportunity to introduce herself and the others to their prisoners cheerfully ignoring their fear, disgust or indifference.
"That one there," she points, "The one with the sash, is Therick. He is an honored man amongst his people."
"He," Rainca nods toward Redarn, "Is Redarn. A friend of horses. A brave man."
"This one," she points to the bald spell slinger, "The one with dots instead of hair. He is Dioran, a mighty weaver of magics."
She grins at Lupic, indicating his deadly spikes, "And this is Lupic. Rainca does not know where this one comes from, but it must be a very dangerous place. She has never seen anyone so fierce as he..."
"...not counting Gath. So eager for blood, he charged, without a thought for fear, right at your leader." She pauses briefly to scan the surroundings and the sky, ever watchful.
She inclines her head toward Joseph Dar'maryon, "The dark one is Joseph Dar'maryon. He..." She hesitates, "Rainca will not say anything of Joseph Dar'maryon save this: Where we go, people will listen when he speaks. And he speaks fairly. More than any other, your lives rest in his hands. Do not anger him." She pauses, considering her words, and nods decisively.
Thumping her chest with a clenched fist she, "Rainca of the Barav Kree greets you. There is more to Rainca's name, but that is for another time."
For the rest of the way to Bluerun she hums tunes to herself and speaks with the prisoners, her comrades-in-arms and Redarn.
***********
When the group arrives at Bluerun she swells with pride at being greeted like triumphant returning warriors. But when the crowd turns ugly, she interposes herself between them and the prisoners, snarling at any who get too near. So much anger here. So much loss. This is not a happy place. She gives a solemn nod to Joseph Dar'maryon when Therick doesn't surrender the prisoners to the angry townsfolk. And she nods mentally at Lupic's words agreeing with the sentiment wholeheartedly, but she is wary.
These people are angry and thirst for blood. Rainca cannot blame them, but the time has not yet come for revenge. She studies the people quietly, looking for their individual reactions, trying to pick out any who are very angry as well as those who seem kind or sad.
***********
As Therick addresses his people and Redarn begins to see to the horses, Rainca gestures the others over and in a quiet voice says, "Rainca has no trust in these people to protect or keep the prisoners. The prisoners are... what is the word... veshayin." She sighs, exasperated. "Important. Rainca will stay with the prisoners. Another will not escape."
When the healers come she unwinds one of her many sashes for each, the cleaner ones, of course, as an offering. "Amongst Rainca's people it is customary to present healers with a gift." She holds out the sash in both hands, palms up and open, smiling gently. "Rainca does not have much, and this is a poor offering, but if you like, she can play for you while you work." She touches the small, carved flute, her eyes unfathomable.
OOC: Sorry for the long post. I got a little carried away. ...please, anyone, jump in at any point in the above Litany of the Kree. I don't want to hog.
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