(Casual D&D) A Game of Trust

[Guilt Puppy]

The ride itself goes smoothly, with nary a sign of trouble en route. Aerda can't shake the feeling, however, that something is pursuing...

Too soon the sky seems to fade, and night falls... You are still in fairly forested area, but the terrain is far flatter now, with nary a rocky perch in sight.

 

[dpdx]

"How far away do we figure we are from Bethel? Another day's ride, perhaps?" Fendric asks as they make camp. Unloading Sunray, he places his pack where he can get to it easily, and takes out some trail rations and a waterskin for the evening meal. Drinking from the waterskin, he looks over to Aerda.

"So, my trueblooded friend, since you now wear the ring, do you, too, get the feeling we're being hunted?"

 

[wings]

Why, yes.

Aerda nods at the cleric's question, but doesn't actually look at the man. He unshoulders his bow and frops from the horse witha fair amount of grace. He unloads the horse after Draven dismounts and brushes out the horses coat. He will then reload the mount, to be ready to leave on a moment's notice.

"If I had the materials, I could divine the specific purpose of the ring. But it seems that will have to wait until we get into town. I'd also like to study the sword some."

 

[Uriel]

OoC:Thanks for auto playing me, GP. My new comp should be here Monday or tuesday, then it's back to daily posts.Please keep on, as you did pretty much as I would.

 

[National Acrobat]

Merrim will get down and find a nice spot to rest. She'll get out her spellbook, and with the remaining light of the day, begin to study her spells for the following day. "I can't wait to get to town, a hot bath, a nice soft bed, and home cooked meals. Or at least, I would like to hope so. Has anyone ever been to Bethel before? If so, and it is a dump, please don't rain on my parade just yet." She smiles a nice, big smile to everyone.

 

[wings]

Pipe

Aerda sits down on his knees, with his feet crossed under him. He removes a pipe from his coat, and lights it with a twig from the same pocket. He holds the long thin pipe at its end, the smoke rising up around him. "All human settlements are the same."

 

[National Acrobat]

Merrim looks at Aerda with a rather sour frown. "I said not to start raining on my parade. I am tired, hungry and would like to sleep under a roof."

 

[wings]

no no no

"Ah, you misunderstand me!"He takes a soft drag at the pipe, then speaks again, letting the sweet-smelling smoke slowly billow out. "All Human settlements have those things you ask for, is all. So you can be sure to expect it. Besides, Jance seemed large enough to cater to such refined tastes as those you possess."

He pushes his hood back to reveal the full set of black curls, and he closes his eyes in thought, and listening to Astrule's emotions.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

As the night settles, the trees grow silent -- the wind is softer now, you must not be quite so near the coast. Despite Aerda's veiled tension, it's become slowly easier to shake off the sense of vulnerability which travel brings, and one by one you manage to curl up to sleep.

Aerda: As things really start to settle around camp, you feel a sudden -- your heart pounds, your lungs seem to fill with heat, and the sifted moonlight seems to burn within your eyes. The sensation passes within the blink of an eye, leaving just one thought trailing in its wake: You are about to be attacked.

 

[wings]

Up!

The sensation scares him at first, the nerve endings carrying back signals of danger. The ring's magical alarm takes only a moment to register in his thinking mind, and even less time in his irrational, intuitive mind. He is already moving before the thought formulates.

Aerda rolls from his set-up position against a tree, easily coming to as the elves often are. Everyone! Prepare for defense and flight! It takes only a moment for his shortbow to be readied, and Astrule sent into the air to look for the attacker!

He could get used to this ring, it gave him an unease, but a healthy one, that warned of danger. Like pain, it only serves to keep one alive. A soft creak as the string on the bow is pulled back. He slowly stalks toward his horse.