Another day in the Tavern

[Xavim]

As everyone prepares to depart they pause momentarily at a truely strange sight. Xavim stands near the wagons, under the almost amused looks of the other wolves, as he stares in quiet wonder at the wagon.

At first you cannot place exactly why he'd be staring at a plain old wagon. Then you remember in amusment, Xavim can barely walk, how is he going to climb into the wagon?

The 'tiefling' reaches out towards the wagon and begins his struggle up. He pulls, grunts, strains awekwardly and then slips off. Glaring at the wagon he staggers forward and makes a pathetic attempt at a jump, only to fall once again. Several of the wolves seem to be laughing at him now, tongues loling in canine grins. The air is thick with their mirth as Xavim tries again, leaping hard and high. Well to him anyways.

Grunting Xavim manages to pull himself over the edge and into the back of the wagon. Seems that whatever is wrong with his legs severly impedes their movement as he didn't even attempt to use them to aid him in his climb, leaving them to dangle pathetically through his climb. Then the tiny Abyssal huddles in the back betwee some of the supplies, rather intropective and seemingly quite angry at the display.

 

[Lord Tarran]

Tarran thought: Poor guy, not able to move around unhindered. I thought it was an act. Maybe I'll try to help later. He thinks for a moment, remembering what happened the last time he used his magic to help a demon. Didn't work to well unless the explosion of the creature you were trying to heal was a good thing. Tarran threw the last of the luggage and things being brought on to the wagon, and with a whistle to the wolves, he pushed the wagon out into the village proper. He sat calmly at the head of the vehicle, glancing towards his companions.

You comin'? I think we should get moving before noon. My friend will catch up with us.

He whistles to the closest wolf, who walks over and becomes a massive, bear like man as he walks. He asks:

Yes Tarran.

Tarran responds simply with a pat on the shoulder of the man, and the following:

Jaerl, keep about 30ft ahead of us. Have Cairn stay to our left flank, and Mari to our right. I want Rare keeping our back covered. Keep the local wolf packs near, and have them keep you informed. Also, be on the lookout for you-know-who, and also, send ahead a call to our Verur pod. I think they might be needed.

Correction, that is what he said if you could speak druidic.

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

Elona finally walks back over to Tarran and smiles, "Sorry no sign of him yet, shall I keep waiting?" She gives him a playful flirty smile then looks to the bear like man and nods politely to him.

 

[Lord Tarran]

She, actually. Don't worry about it. She'll catch up. Just hop in, and we'll get moving. Jaerl, you know what to do.

The bear man nodded, and with a crunch was back in wolf form, setting up the wolves around the makeshift caravan.

Are you going to tell me what stunned you, or am I going to have to have to sit discontented. And don't smile like that, Brenan about twenty feet behind you, suddenly very upset with you.

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

She looks behind her, "Hmm, thought he left already..." She hugs Tarran and whispers, "Truth be known, I like you better than him."

 

[Lord Tarran]

You can see him as well as I can, and he coming here. Something's wrong, you weren't acting this way a few moments ago. You were madly in love with him as I remember.

He checks her mind for compulsions.

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

She seems to be speaking the truth, her mind focused on a few things, but not compulsions. Though if searched enough he would find out she is worrying a lot. "I will tell you about why I was stunned later. Let it be known, I am not deeply in love with him!"

 

[Lord Tarran]

Okay Elona. Hop in, we'll talk on the way.He walks around her and goes to Brenan. Head back to the palace, and tell her father to contact me immediately. Also tell him that there is a man name Marilias in his court. Tell him to send that man to me with the message. I'll see what I can do about Elona. Don't worry, you stink of it.

 

[JasperDm]

Seth watches them all silently, not even responding to telepathic questioning, for some time. His ebon eyes seem to absorb their every move, as if to catalogue some precious moment in history...or some new species he is contemplating dissecting. An unnerving look to those caught in it at times, to be sure. As Seth watches Xavim struggle into the wagon, he contemplates hoisting him with a burst of telekinesis, or maybe simply mentioning the hatched rear railing, but decides not to make Xavim look inattentive or helpless in addition to impaired.

Setting Libram down on the seat beside him, he looks back at them, and sighs.

"Tarran. You offered earlier to elaborate on your condition. I have studied various strains of zooanthropy over the years, and would welcome more insight if the offer still stands. Xavim...the same goes for you, I am very interested in your heritage, as from what I can observe, your heritage seems more cambionic than previously assumed. I might even hypothesize that your fiendish ancestry is as recent as one generation away, and one might even posit that you may of a pure lineage, similar to the succubus or erinyes, in similarity to Prime races...my earlier assumption of simple tieflingdom is more a matter of textual clues and personal familiarity than hard observation, and I should like further conversation on the subject. Elona...I require a bit more from you. While your geneology and heraldic information is interesting, I need most of all...directions."

 

[Xavim]

Xavim sits unmoving, those of exceptionally keen abilities of reading body language (such as you Seth) could see a mixture of nervous amazement and apprehension. Tarran get's a distinct wiff of unease from the tiefling at Seth's words.

"How... how could he have known?" Xavim thought to himself "How could someone be so close to the mark after contact with me for so little time?"

Disbelief wirled through Xavim's mind as he beheld his 'companions' again, but seeing them almost as if for the first time. Seth the mortif, plane walker and Mystic Theurge with perceptions and a dark intellect deeper than Xavim could believe. He had nearly completely, and accurately described his situation. He had observed the depth of the mortif's power during his administrations on Elona and saw in Seth a mystal equal.

Then there was the mighty were, powerful and magical his simultaenous benevelence and furiocity had set him back on his heels, lured him into revealing more about his past than he had intended to. Physically mighty and obviously in his element, the werewolf was a mighty opponent indeed.

The only one he didn't know for cirtain about was Elona, the seemingly delicate and immeasurably beautiful Assimar. The depths of her power remained unknown, but cirtainly it was nothing compared to the other two.

"It seems that I've fallin in with a much more outstanding crowd than I had originally thought. How long could I keep the truth about my nature from them? And indeed whatever would be the use? The mortif cirtainly would be more sympathetic to one of my kind than the others, but it is looking ever more foolish to keep the aspects of my nature hidden. A battle would not be wise, as I'm not even sure I could escape safely since my planar powers went ary. I guess I might aswell tell them something. But not everything. No sense spilling all of the beans."