Redemption: The Preludes (IC post)

[Harding]

Roland Weisley

---

When D'Artagenon mentioned that he had never explicitly stated Eldon's involvement before, Roland was taken aback. He distinctly remembered the mention of that him, Roland, was more deeply involved with the events of the assassination and the weird fellowship they became, but perhaps he had misunderstood the context. He was probably implying that Roland's actions in dismantling the Silken Serpent had unwittingly entangled him further in this intricate web of events, that their reach and capability to retaliate was far superior than he could ever anticipate? Then again, being in the middle of divine prophecies, pursued by cultist and ancient dragon... it wasn't comforting to know that Eldon's was involved or not. ''By Tymora, I'm utterly in bed with Bashaba...'' was the only thing he could make up of these realizations.

Despite the looming specter of Eldon's in his mind, Roland forced himself to push aside this new dark cloud and focused on the ongoing conversation. However, the revelation about Torben's mission to retrieve the tentacles of an undisclosed creature only added to Roland's sense of disbelief and apprehension. Like a startled elk caught in the gaze of a hunter's, about to get shot by the arrow with surprise and disbelief in his eyes. He attempted to break the tension with a humorous question, "So... are there any practices of using drugs as a form of enlightenment in your order?" he said, struggling to contain his nervous laughter.

Then, he continued on more seriously, with a frown of concern of his face. "Because, seriously, this is the craziest thing I've heard in my life so far, in all honesty. I mean, I totally believe you. Like seriously, I believe you completely! At this point, I could be announced as the illegitimate heir of Neverwinter and I wouldn't even doubt it for a second after everything that happened and was revealed so far since the caravan massacre we escaped me and Aly. But seriously... tentacles from a monster from a glacier... Wow... Okay, sure... must be really important I guess. Why you though? Why were you the one sent for a task that seems so crucial it has to be kept secret? No offense, but there was no one more experienced for this task? I mean, I don't know the extent of your abilities and skills, but you seem young and you also seem to have little experience with the outside world, but it might be just an impression."

Despite the possibility of sounding offensive or insulting, Roland didn't intend it that way. It was simply the honest impression the Bugbear had given him so far. However, he also recognized that the Bugbear's race might present an obstacle to completing his task—wise monks would have predicted that he would face prejudice in addition to everything else he would have to tackle. If this quest was meant to help the Bugbear gain worldly knowledge and experience, it seemed foolish to send him on such an endeavor so important that he couldn't reveal much about. All this to retrieve the bits of an imprisoned monster in a giant glacier (allegedly).

Edited May 8 by Harding (see edit history)

[Civit]

Aly Treltor

---

Aly was pleased at the improved butchering the right tool produced in Rillik's hands. Perhaps Aly would be able to share cooking duties. As much as she enjoyed it, cooking for eight plus a large, but lovable, pooch was a lot of work.

Fascinated by Torben's task, "Many cultures have some sort of hunting ritual. Torben's isn't any more fantastical. Sure most are as simple as hunt a stag by oneself. Or in in some cases something dangerous, like a boar. It could also be an inanimate object, like retrieve polished stone from a sacred river that is days travel away. Why not a tentacle? Do the elder Monks send every, or some, brothers on some sort of quest Torben?"

[Basil_Bottletop]

Wyckmere Mirth

---

 

If there was pride in his successful prodding of the question avalanche that now hit Torben, Wyckmere showed no outward signs of it. He stood with his metaphorical drum at his side and listened. He listened to all of them. From Torben's responses, to the newly spinning wheels of Roland's mind. He watched as Rillik and Aly broke from their smaller discussion to join in. He even saw D'Artegenon's tell that told him the half-orc was listening while working.

Roland was right. Of all the things that had been attached to this group's circumstances, the trip to the glacier felt the most odd. Wyck had meant what he said earlier that everything he'd seen and heard so far about this group was far too noisy for it to be the thing he was there to witness, but this trip -be it a coming of age tradition or not- felt like it might collapse the whole finnicky tower. Aly had survived an attack on a caravan, but they'd met them long afterwards. Rillik and Yopine's past was far enough behind them that they didn't even mention recent events, but again, Wyck and D'Artegenon had not been there to witness it anyways. The dragon, the dog, and the kobold all combined for a curiosity worthy of a ballad, but not a witnessing.

He wasn't sure if the bugbear's task somehow bore the weight of the entire group, but it was currently the lead D'Artegenon had pressed upon them. Wyck slowly realized that D'Artegenon must have come to the same conclusion, just faster than he had. They moved toward this glacier because right now nothing better seemed to present itself. Wyck hoped that it was the journey that would become the answer and not the literal -or perhaps metaphorical- drawing of this tentacle that put them back on their divine task. A task that had so far taken them far longer to accomplish than their last two combined and showed no signs of finishing soon.

Further details would be nice, but they weren't something Wyck really needed right now. His own conclusions were good enough. Wyck moved away from the small tribunal that had formed between himself, Roland, and Yopine a few minutes ago. A conversation that had launched them into the state they were all in now. His path took him back toward his possessions and specifically his satchel. He needed to get a few things written down before the light of the fire was too low to see by.

 

[PixCO]

Yopine Quietclock

---

Yopine shook her head with a slow sadness at what was happening to Torben. They were all so starved for answers that it had become a feeding frenzy. They were good questions, all of them, and needed to be answered. The Bugbear wasn't going to be able to help anyone if he was being overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

"It's okay." She tried to tell him, moving to help gather the wood he'd been splitting. Any pieces that had escaped those monstrous hands were picked up and organized in a convenient stack. "Don't worry about them. Just focus on one thing for a minute."

She handed Torben an untouched piece that could use some reduction before being useful. "Do what you can do in the moment. They're not in charge of you, and you don't owe us anything. You've already helped just be being here. So thank you for that. Do you need any help from me?"

[Zelphas]

Torben

---

Torben's head hunched lower and lower into his shoulders as the trickle of questions turn into a rushing flood. What part of 'I can't tell you more than that' do these people not understand? He knew that this doesn't make sense, that something felt wrong about it. But something felt wrong about just about everything in his life since he left the monastery, and no one seemed to have a problem with that except him. Why did they have to pick away at this point? They invited him to travel with them, and now they wanted to question his quest?

The irritation and frustration boiled over. Before he could stop himself, Torben turned and hurled the log in his hands as hard as he could into the woods. The air split with an audible shriek as the chunk of wood soared away until it struck the trunk of a tree, where it shattered with an enormous boom. Instantly, Torben felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry." It was an automatic response, trained from years of being scolded for his "lack of control" while growing up in the monastery, but it was no less true for its automatic nature. The deep gnome gave him an excuse to turn away, and he went back to work breaking up the logs, moving much more slowly and carefully than before. "I'm fine," he responded shortly to the gnome's offer of help. After a long beat, he added, more quietly, "...Thanks."

[Rumrunner]

Rillik d'Sivis

---

She shook he large hatted head, and stuffed her long stem pipe with some tobbac. "Bugbears..."

[Wizard of the Coat]

Ragz

---

Ragz rose to his feet, troubled by the many questions and attentions directed toward his bugbear companion. He thought to approach the sorrowful monk and offer some words of friendship, but the deep gnome girl beat him to it. He smiled pleased at her effort and its result.

In the awkward silence that followed, the kobold thought to change the topic. "Ragz has named a stray black dog," he announced as if declaring something of import.

He continued, his words laced with the sobering tone of formality. "A black dog is no longer stray. A black dog is now named: a companion, part of the clan. With a fine name. Yontu. It means Shadow in the sunlit common tongue."

As if on cue, Yontu scanned the gathered onlookers, offering a quiet back of delight. Spotting the deep gnome, Yonto gamboled in her direction, interested in the game of keep-the-wood-chunk-away-from-the-bugbear. With the gnome's hands occupied in holding the wood chunk, Yontu saw her chance to finally slobber up the gnome girl's face. Without warning, Yontu lunged, tail wagging, breath heavy with fresh hare kill.

Edited May 9 by Wizard of the Coat (see edit history)

[Basil_Bottletop]

Wyckmere Mirth

---

 

Wyck looked up from his writing at the sound of the crashing underbrush some distance off. He'd not seen what caused it, but the bugbear was apologizing for something and the lack of anyone else's hackles being raised meant they likely knew it wasn't a camp intruder coming into distance.

Once again, the camp was clustered. Wyck could see it in both a physical sense and in their body language. There were those that matched the stone-façade of D'Artegenon and those that maybe needed more than a good night's sleep. He wasn't sure which group he fell into at the moment, but there was something alluring about slumber washing away the stagnant waters of raw emotions.

He made a shorthand note in the margin of his paper before taking another glance around the camp. The sweep of his gaze sitting just a moment longer on Rillik than anyone else. He hadn't seen Myst in hours and the curiosity brought a strange levity to his swirl of thoughts in his mind. Soon he was writing again.

 

[PixCO]

Yopine Quietclock

---

The deep gnome was still staring in awe at the trajectory the log had taken, mouth slightly agape. Images of how easily that could have been her thrown instead of the log passed through Yopine's mind. Would the massive brute even notice the weight difference? Would he even notice the weight, period?

"No probl..." Was all the farther she could get after handing off the next wooden victim. Suddenly going down in a clatter of black fur and knives, Yontu found not just Yopine's hands occupied. Her mind was many, many yards away where birds still complained about the improvised missile when the leap came for her at last.

[Wizard of the Coat]

Ragz

---

Ragz immediately called to Yontu, commanding her to heel as he approached.

Yontu paused in her slobbering, leaping from the gnome, tail wagging. Clearly she was not obeying the kobold as much as wondering why the illusive gnome had decided to play dead. The night-black mastiff fainted a playful lunge, hoping for some reaction from the downed gnome. Up until now, the gnome had been the most difficult target: a worthy adversary in the business of fun and games.

Yontu cocked her head at the slobber-faced gnome.

Edited May 9 by Varen Tai (see edit history)

[PixCO]

Yopine Quietclock

---

The deep gnome rolled to freedom as Yontu allowed. She'd been blindsided entirely by the dog's approach, but now she was on her feet and moving more gracefully. Disheveled and dirty, but with a happier expression than she might have worn a moment ago. In comparison to the Bugbear's claws, even this beast's mouth seemed friendly.

"Okay, okay. Yontu?" Her quick hands came up with a stick. This was scraped along the ground once or twice before being lobbed in the general direction of Ragz. "Not sure what that means, but it sound like a fine enough name to me."

[Wizard of the Coat]

Ragz

---

Ragz was quick to catch the stick and throw it to the first person he saw meeting his gaze--which just happened to be the human soldier--calling to the man in case he missed his role in the game, "Catch and throw quickly!"

Yontu diverted her course before reaching the kobold, bounding for Roland with all the delicacy of an fey-possessed runaway wagon.

Dividing his attention between the stick and the deep gnome, the kobold answered her, a bit of pride in his voice as he repeated. "Yontu means Shadow."

[Harding]

Roland Weisley

---

Roland observed the Bugbear's reaction with stoicism, his expression remaining impassive as he tracked the projectile's trajectory. He was accustomed to leading men and dealing with displays of temper, especially from younger individuals. The outburst only served to confirm his suspicions about the Bugbear's youth and inexperience, as well as the internal struggles stemming from his heritage and the discipline of monkhood imposed upon him. Despite his outward calm, Roland felt a surge of frustration and regrets brewing within him. He hesitated to provoke a reaction further but recognized the insight gained into the Bugbear's character. He resolved to apologize later once he calmed down...

Turning his attention to Ragz's declaration about the dog, Roland feigned interest. He was caught off guard when the Kobold suddenly tossed a stick his way, but managed to catch it just in time and make it disapear with a flick of wrist, like if it evaporate from nowhere "Where's the stick, Yontu? Did that sweaty oaf steal it?" he joked, eliciting a confused tilt of the dog's head. With a mischievous grin, Roland made the stick appear once more, as if conjuring it from thin air, and flung it toward to Rillik. "Go see the grumpy gnome. She enjoys playing with sticks, especially the disintegrating kind," he suggested, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Edited May 9 by Harding (see edit history)

[Rumrunner]

Rillik d'Sivis

---

Rillik dodge the stick, her hands not being free to catch it. Then picked up the stick raising it out of the dog's reach and leading her around the camp. "So... the grumpy gnome has been thinking... If the final scribe's witnesses are involved, and the servants of deities of fate and magic are also on alert, what could be the cause?" She puffed out some O rings as she pondered. "What comes to mind is something either dietific or otherworldly that will rain hell? The death of a god? I mean, would a king or even a dragon dying fetch that much attention... could something be controlling that ancient green? Hells bells, wouldn't that someone have to be something? Maybe not a someone?" As she spoke she began to speak faster, her pitch changing up in tone as she blurted out sentences as if they were one word. "Could perhaps there be some sort of magic that's going to be released, an artifact or device? Perhaps a breaking seal? Could we fix it? Should we? Maybe there's someone stole something from its horde and blamed you two? Could the dog have eaten it...." ...and then let Yontu catch the stick, playing tug-o-war with her via mage hand for a fraction of a second.

Rillik stared at her, narrowing her eyes, then with quick encantation and a gesture from her pipe, the gnome cast detect magic on the dog. The spell reveals the nature and intensity of magic, it was a long shot, an off chance that maybe the dog had eaten a magical item. She pinged. The gnomes eyes opened and widen as if trying to take in more than they could manage and she fell back off the log. "She's no dog..." Rillik blurted as she scrambled onto her knees looking over the log at Yontu, and pointing with the stem of her pipe. "...she's soaked in alteration and transmuttation magic."

 

[Wizard of the Coat]

Ragz

---

Ragz sighed.

The travelers had been relatively accepting of him. Torben, less so. And now the dog. Despite his efforts to distance himself from the stray black dog of the past year, he'd developed a strong attachment to the canine--which he'd only acknowledged this evening. And now he felt...

Feelings. Powerful feelings of protectiveness, as if one of his younglings were being threatened. He did not want Yontu to become the recipient of some canine version of the anxiety-driven questioning inflicted upon the bugbear. "Yontu. Manchay. Hamuy.In the Kobold dialect of Draconic: "Shadow. Danger. Come." "

The words had not come with the forcefulness of some of Ragz' previous commands, but the dog immediately snapped her head around to Ragz, suddenly on high alert. Seeing no targets, she trotted to the kobold's side as quickly as possible without disrupting the camp.

Keeping his hands in plain sight, Ragz looked to the gnome woman and then the others, wondering if it would soon be time to leave.

Most of the travelers had little experience reading kobolds. The look on his face might have been fear or something else. One thing was certain, the kobold matched the mastiff's level of alertness.

Edited Tuesday at 08:45 PM by Wizard of the Coat (see edit history)