(Casual D&D II) The Fellowship of the White Dove

[Uriel]

Niccolo stands, gathering his things, glancing from one of these folk to another.
His mind clearing, he began to see them as normal people instead of the vibrantly-colored spectres that they were an hour ago.
Smiling through a growing headache, he addresses those in the chamber, bowing and bidding farewell.


'Good Folk of the Mount,
If there's ever a Doubt,
of where beauty ever holds sway...
Just a look,lickety split,
And you'll quickly fathom it,
That it lay in the Birth of a New Day.'

Good Leave, I take, and a safe and happy year for you all.'

Donning his cap, Niccolo whistles a merry tune, only occassionally batting at invisible yellow hummingbirds thay continued to plague him with their diving and staffing.

 

[DrZombie]

Raven frowns, not having a clue what the half-orc wants. Curiously, he follows him out.

 

[Sparky]

A stone's throw south of the crossroad temple a cloaked and hooded figure stops in the middle of the road. Wracked with shakes, huddled and dripping, the figure moves closer to a pack-laden donkey. The donkey ambles to a halt, stoically blinking at the misting drizzle of the trailing storm. In one gnarled hand the donkey's lead and a heavily carved wooden staff. In the other, a strange basket. At the temple, the savage mountainfolk file out one by one and disappear into the dark night. The figure shudders.

Unseen eyes unsettle, unbind. Eyes of the dark, the dark unkind.

Red weals worn into crepey skin by a twist of frayed cord complain as the basket swaddled in oiled canvas is raised, lantern-like, before the hooded face. Coughs convulse the figure. The basket swings violently to and fro, a warbling shrill protests from within. Leaning against the donkey the figure rests, seeming, for the moment, wholly defeated. Not far now. Keep going. Pushing off and drawing a rattling breath a voice croaks from within the depths of the hood. It is reedy, cracked and weak, "Bastrop, Winkle. We've found somewhere to rest." Another coughing fit seizes. Before it subsides completely the figure takes a shaky step toward the temple.

 

[Tonguez]

Orbril returns the farewell grinning as he considered that the orcish word for "goodbye" translates more literally as "Get Out!"

He then yawns, compliments Niccolo on his witty lil' ditty then he too wonders off to his cot and rest until sun up, all the while trying to figure out just what these people had been doing before he met them...

 

[Festy_Dog]

Raven frowns, not having a clue what the half-orc wants. Curiously, he follows him out.

"Raven, right?" he asks, but not waiting for an answer he continues, "You've only known us a few hours at most, but you've helped us to smooth out this little situation quite nicely. I'd like to thank you on behalf of the party for that. Obviously though, this is not why I asked you to come outside.

"Now there were things you said inside, rather unkind things, which you may have felt were deserved, possibly? After knowing us only a few hours though I feel insulted that you would assume such things about us, especially claiming we have no honour. I have travelled with that group inside for a while now, the quest they have undertaken is incredibly important and has tested them mentally and physically, its obvious they are strained and low on patience, but I can honestly say they are some of the most humble and honourable people I know. I have been through trials in my own life too, some small, some overwhelming, and by Cuthbert if there is one thing I've tried to maintain through all of it, its my honour. I am willing to let this go, what you said about my friends, it can be forgotten and never visited upon again, they don't know what you said and in all likelyhood it won't come back to harm them. Though know this, never insult or challenge my honour again, alright? I simply won't stand for it."

Nurthk crosses his arms and waits for a response of some kind.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

The guest room: Yattro begins bringing down the tables and putting the cots back up; Hiritus is quick to help in that department, while Shavah heads out to find a good place to trance.

"I apologize for not stepping in," the old cleric says to Niccolo, turning. "I didn't want to presume I could speak to you, and anything I had to say might have come as a threat... Your companions seemed to handle it well enough, though, and Raven, as always, was a blessing..."

Hiritus casts a less than friendly glare at the last comment, but stays quiet.

The bath house: A knock at the door: Shavah's voice. "Are you decent?"

Once given leave to enter, she enters, though not by much: Her shoulder rests on the doorframe, showing now clear signs of fatigue.

"First thing tomorrow: I want you to explain, to the best of your ability, how it is that I ended up here at the edge of all things civilization."

Her eyes are vindictive, but too puffy from hours to appear very menacing. After a beat, though, she loosens her gaze a little, unclamps her jaw, and looks away.

"You handled things well tonight." Her words seem to be from some other conversation. "I mean, we're all still alive, nobody's bleeding. I don't know how much of that is because of whatever went on in that other language, but... you held your ground in spite of the danger, and that seemed dangerous, but we're all still okay. I don't think I said anything about it at the time, but still... I owe you an apology for doubting you."

Outside, to the South: From your vantage it is clear that lights are still lit and people are still active -- quite a few, for this late at night. Even this close, they seem too occupied to see you coming along your way...

 

[dpdx]

The bath house: A knock at the door: Shavah's voice. "Are you decent?"

Fendric, being a cleric of modest upbringing in an all-male Temple, takes the question completely the wrong way; fortunately, the bathtub covers anything that might relate to Shavah's interpretation of the word 'decent'. "Why, yes, always: why wouldn't I be?"

Once given leave to enter, she enters, though not by much: Her shoulder rests on the doorframe, showing now clear signs of fatigue.

"First thing tomorrow: I want you to explain, to the best of your ability, how it is that I ended up here at the edge of all things civilization."

Her eyes are vindictive, but too puffy from hours to appear very menacing. After a beat, though, she loosens her gaze a little, unclamps her jaw, and looks away.

"I can tell you now, if you'd like, what I think, if it eases your mind any. I think that fortuneteller teleported the lot of us, as if he were trying to help us on our way, OR, if you wish to see it another way, to throw us off the track of Father Premule, or maybe both. I'm afraid I'm not that worried about how we are here, Shavah, just that we are here, and what to do about it in the morning.

According to the map, we're just over the pass from the Free City of Eivanrach, where our southernmost remaining letter needs to go. That should count for something, and I trust that your comrades are well on the way to rescuing Father Premule.

I know that doesn't help you resolve things much, but perhaps it would help you to know that I am here for you, should you need anything I can provide."

"You handled things well tonight." Her words seem to be from some other conversation. "I mean, we're all still alive, nobody's bleeding. I don't know how much of that is because of whatever went on in that other language, but... you held your ground in spite of the danger, and that seemed dangerous, but we're all still okay. I don't think I said anything about it at the time, but still... I owe you an apology for doubting you."

"Unless you're talking to someone else in this bathhouse, you owe me nothing of the sort. I did what I saw best to do, all things considered, and with Pelor as my Eternal Guide, as always.

As for that other language, I gather it was Orcish, though I understand it not. The fact that Nurthk took offense to something that was said tells me that as is often suitable with Orcish, lots of nasty things were being said about those of elven blood, and of one halfbreed acolyte in particular."

Fendric smiles at this last comment, as if teasing Shavah. "And no, my dear, I don't think it was you, may the Light Forbid it.

I am now going to be unavailable for the next four hours. Good night, dear Shavah."

 

[DrZombie]

"Raven, right?" he asks, but not waiting for an answer he continues, "You've only known us a few hours at most, but you've helped us to smooth out this little situation quite nicely. I'd like to thank you on behalf of the party for that. Obviously though, this is not why I asked you to come outside..

aah, at least someone realises it could have gone otherwise.

"Now there were things you said inside, rather unkind things, which you may have felt were deserved, possibly? After knowing us only a few hours though I feel insulted that you would assume such things about us, especially claiming we have no honour. I have travelled with that group inside for a while now, the quest they have undertaken is incredibly important and has tested them mentally and physically, its obvious they are strained and low on patience, but I can honestly say they are some of the most humble and honourable people I know. I have been through trials in my own life too, some small, some overwhelming, and by Cuthbert if there is one thing I've tried to maintain through all of it, its my honour. I am willing to let this go, what you said about my friends, it can be forgotten and never visited upon again, they don't know what you said and in all likelyhood it won't come back to harm them. Though know this, never insult or challenge my honour again, alright? I simply won't stand for it."

Nurthk crosses his arms and waits for a response of some kind.

"I think you misheard me, or maybe I misspoke, since orcish is an easy language to insult in, even when you mean otherwise. After the second or third temper tantrum by our good priest, I said something like "city elves , they have more pride then honour ,like a sixteen year old. I did not mean to include you or the others of your company in the "they", I was just pissed off at the priest for treating these mountain men as five year old simpletons while they just as well could have killed the lot of you and searched the things later. That's al I meant.
As for your honour, I haven't seen you do anything dishonourfull so , as allways, I'll consider you the honourfull kind untill you do something to disappoint me."

"Does that explain things?"

He stands there waiting for a response, fairly relaxed, untill he sees the figure approaching. [spot 18] He checks to see if his twohander is loose in his scabbard, then approaches.

"Are you allright? Here, let me help you with that."

 

[Sparky]

There seems to be no strength left in the man's bird-like frame. He clutches the basket and staff by will alone it seems. No color to him either. His eyes as he brings his head painfully up are pale gray and fever bright. His skin, milky pale, papery, wrinkled. A week's growth of beard skims his jaw and chin with white.

He approaches warily, signing himself with the Mark of the Road as he passes over the threshold onto temple grounds, but gratefully accepts the offer of help handing the basket carefully over and rubbing his left hand where the cord ground it raw.

"Thank you. I..." He bends double with a fresh spasm of coughing, groping for support. His now free left hand latches onto the larger man's forearm. You both get a glimpse of a very old tattoo - a salamander biting its tail - incised on the back of the gnarled fist. When the coughs subside he resumes, voice brittle and quiet, "I bring news from Hedrogura." He gives the two strangers a steady glance from his red-rimmed eyes... No mantles, no road symbols...

Eyes watering as a sneeze threatens, "Where is ...the master of this ...Station?" The old man sneezes and wobbles on his feet, growing ashen. He looks to the halfbreed, his tone laced with concern, "Please, see to Bastrop." The man weakly indicates the donkey standing patiently in the soft rain, leisurely cropping any grass within reach of where he drew to a halt. The donkey's ears swivel at its name and the grazing head raises. It looks on impassively at the people before it, low munching sounds issuing from its working jaws.

Renewing his clutching grasp he looks up, hood sliding back to reveal straggling tufts of thinning white hair. He clears his throat, "Inside?" His words are quick, if quiet, with little of flair or gentility. Not rude, but not exactly kindly either.

OOC: I'm extrapolating from, well, nothing that Raven is bigger than Nurthk and is, thus, the 'larger of the two'. Apologies if it is not the case, an old man's poor vision.

 

[Festy_Dog]

"Does that explain things?"

Nurthk raises an eyebrow, looks away for a moment, then nods. He is about to extend a hand to shake when Raven's attention is grabbed by something. Nurthk follows to discover what Raven had seen.

"I bring news from Hedrogura." He gives the two strangers a steady glance from his red-rimmed eyes...

Hope everything is alright.

"Where is ...the master of this ...Station?"

"Inside, last I saw," Nurthk says.

"Please, see to Bastrop."

Nurthk nods, and having had experience with dealing with animals, quietly leads the donkey off to the stables.

OOC: I'm extrapolating from, well, nothing that Raven is bigger than Nurthk and is, thus, the 'larger of the two'. Apologies if it is not the case, an old man's poor vision.

[ooc: dunno how tall Raven is, but I've got Nurthk down as 6'6"]