| Logs |
2001 October 29
| Inizii |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Inizii Logs |
Departures and Arrivals
One month after the vampiric scourge had been purged from Tarlbren, much has been accomplished. The dead from the collapsed mine are buried, houses are restored, wounds have been nurtured and healed. Vane has left, heading south. As the days passed with no sign of Ebrek, the townsfolk relaxed and began to believe that he was gone for good - though many keep their houses festooned with garlic. Things seem peaceful, at least for now, and the winter crops are starting to be harvested, to be sent south.
Kyrel has been spending most of his time researching new spells and brewing potions, though he and Kiri made a point of patrolling after dark fairly often - but neither Ebrek nor any other vampires seem to be in the area any more. By the time a month has gone by, he has mastered one of Vane's favorites, and worked out a few others more in line with his own specialty.
Derleth, after praying for the strength to restore the powers lost to the vampire's touch, recovered fully, and discovered that his Goddess rewarded his efforts with the power to restore others. Vane recovered more quickly due to this, but it did not quell his desire to leave his companions. Derleth took to brooding for a while at the loss of another companion, but was drawn away from this dark mood by the boy, Christof, to whom he started teaching the litany of Lliara, in preparation for their own eventual trek south.
Tomals was returned safely to his mother, and eventually recovered completely. He even achieved the learning and discipline to master his natural skills farther, and with Kyrel's help he learned a new spell. The boy had decided, however, not to accompany Kyrel and Derleth on their journey south, but to stay with Tarlbren's Militia for another season before setting out himself.
The four remaining companions, Derleth, Kyrel, Christof and Bodan, have set forth, southward bound with a map of the southern lands up to Seleguant, and enough provisions in hand to get them there. However, the paladin insists he will not be going to the southern city, but instead taking the first fork that they come to.
Soon enough, they arrive at that split in the road, and Bodan smiles. "Well, me friends, is time to say farewell. Ilmater blesses me to find a mount, one that be linked to the virtuous path."
Kyrel halts Maya at the crossroads, and turns toward the half-orc paladin. "Bodan... good luck. Remember what I told you about Talona. I don't know if she's after us, you, Tarlbren, or what... but I'd keep a watch for her activities if I were you. I certainly intend to. Good luck in your search!"
Derleth smiles and nods to the paladin, astride Platinum with Christof seated behind him. "Aye. Lliara light yer path."
The paladin raises a hand in salute. "Ilmater guides me in dreams when He needs; he showed me shadow befalling Tarlbren. If need arises for His faithful, He send message. To you, and yours, good sirs. May the suffering be eased, where you walk."
Kyrel bows from horseback. "And to you, Sir Bodan." He drops back into his native Elvish for a blessing. "May you walk safely in soft night, and the moon and stars light your path before you."
The paladin nods. Although he doesn't understand it, it sounded pretty, and polite. With that, he turns his horse, and starts down the crossroad.
Kyrel watches Bodan depart, then sighs and turns Maya's head back to the Seleguant road. "I'll miss the big fellow. Even if he couldn't get the hang of pronouns."
Christof glances up. "Could I see the map, please?"
Derleth watches Bodan depart, then turns his warpony and hikes him off at a trot. "Let's be off, Kyrel. The sun doesnae wait for man nor elf." He blinks at Christof's request. "Aye, lad." he says, taking the parchment from the pouch at his belt and passing it back.
The young boy unfurls it, and scans the paper, before glancing up, seeming to have just caught onto something said earlier. He peers, curiously at Kyrel over the map. "Talona?" The boy inquires.
Derleth nods to Kyrel. "Not tae mention the man were deadly wi' a hammer. Ah think, meself, that mebbe when we reach th' city, we should o'erthink our options."
Kyrel nods. "We'll need to recruit a fighter, I think. We're not really an optimum team for heavy work right now." He turns to Christof. "Something that happened to me a few weeks back in a dream. It seems to have been a vision sent to me by Sashelas, warning about Her. Goddess of disease and pain and Ilmater's sworn enemy."
The lad ahs, absorbing this before turning to Derleth, the cleric, for confirmation.
Derleth blinks. "Ye ne'er mentioned this. If the dream came t' ye, wouldnae it ha been better that Bodan stayed wi' us?" He nods to the boy. "E' has the right of it. Talona's nae one of the greater gods...but no less worrisome in and of hersel'."
Kyrel shrugs. "I was hoping he'd stay on at Tarlbren, myself. But he said he planned to head back that way after he finishes his quest for a warmount. We'll see what happens. I suspect he has time to do it, or Ilmater wouldn't have sent him the vision of a warmount just now."
Derleth sidles his mount closer to the half-elf. "What, pray tell, did the dream imply?"
Kyrel tries to remember why he's forgotten to mention it to Derleth before. "Must have happened while you were involved in the healing effort. Nothing much to say - just a dream, started with Seshalas' symbols in a beer mug, and then I was taking a seriously ill Tomals to the Temple and the town was empty. Last thing before I woke up was a demonic form chasing me and infecting my hands so I couldn't cast spells. The high priest back in Tarlbren said I should talk to the folks at Ilmater's main temple in Seleguant."
Derleth blinks. "Well naew...nae being one o' Savras's kin, ah cannae offer any further insight, but that sounds pretty serious."
Christof nods again, and commits the information to memory. Once he's done that, he glances back down at the map. "Then, if we're going to be finding a fighter, couldn't we find one at the next stop, even before we make it to Seleguant?"
Derleth glances down at the next map. "What be the next stop, lad?"
A finger points to a little area along the southern road. "Demid. Looks like a trading post, or a really small town... a village, I think..." He looks up at Kyrel.
Derleth says, "Hmm. Well, as ye say, it be a trading post...but mayhap if there's allies t' be found there, we should look, aye... But not stay o'er long."
Kyrel says, "Can't hurt. If we're going to recruit someone, we may as well start looking now." He continues the dream discussion. "I've got the details jotted down and stuffed in my pouch, if you're interested. Actual symptoms, stuff like that."
Christof has been measuring things on the map. "Judging by the scale...um...should be...several inches from us. No, wait..."
Derleth snorts, unable to keep back laughter. "nae, lad...an inch is a mile onna map..." He nods to Kyrel, a grin still splitting his features. "Aye, man. Ah'll read it when we 'ave a moment."
Christof blushes. "Well...then... it's I'd say four miles to the south, half to the west."
Kyrel keeps his face straight at the boy's confusion, and nods. "About that. Shouldn't take more than an hour on the road."
Derleth nods to Kyrel who did the math much quicker than he did. "Aye, an hour. Tha' reminds me, how's yer winged friend?"
Kyrel opens his cloak for a moment to reveal Kiri sleeping inside his tunic. "Don't tell him I said so, but he needs a bath."
In the distance, a small group of ravens can be spotted circling briefly, before they settle down into a tree. The sounds of their calling reaches through the chill air.
Derleth eyes the bat. "'is e' really comfortable in 'ere? Then again, ah suppose warm is more important than 'enclosed inna tight space...'
Kyrel chuckles. "I don't wear my tunics all that tight, you know." He looks up, seeing the ravens congregating. "Hmm. I wonder what they've found?"
The boy gives a light grin. "Mayhap a murder..."
Derleth eyes the boy. "Ha, ha, Chris."
Kyrel says, "We'll find out. Keep your eyes open, both of you." He opens his cloak again and reaches in to wake the bat. "Kiri. High Sentry." Kiri squeaks in displeasure. Bright light... Kyrel nods. I know, Kiri. But we've got something odd going on up ahead. Give it a shot.
As the three continue, they pass signs of horse-shoes on the road, a rather large scraping, as if a horse had been galloping, and then suddenly reversed direction.
Derleth blinks, slowing Platinum down to a walk, and drawing his flail free from his weapon hook. "That doesnae look good..."
Kyrel readies his bow once the bat is awake. "Not a bit, no."
Derleth looks closer at the tracks. "What ah wouldnae give right now for one o' Prydain's get."
Kiri chirrips again before taking flight. He moves in an indirect path, mainly in the shadows of the trees, towards the ravens.
Christof's fingers twitch. "I've no weapon," the boy realizes, frowning.
Kyrel frowns at what Kiri sees. "Okay, a body, dead or unconscious. The ravens aren't scavenging yet."
Derleth says, "Ah've no intent o' needing that ye fight, Chris. Still..." He takes a dagger from his boot and hands it to the boy. "Lliara favors the prepared."
Christof nods, taking the small blade. "I need to prepare, then," He observes, before holding it firm, before looking to Kyrel, then back to the cleric. "Do we help or...?"
Kyrel says, "Generally, yes. If it's not too late. After that dream of mine, I'd say to watch out for diseases, though."
Derleth says, "We shouldnae charge in, aye. There's times for that, but this is nae one oh them." He gees Platinum up to a trot, however, hoping to catch sight of the body.
Kyrel nods. "If he isn't dead, he's not likely to die in the next three minutes." He nudges Maya to keep up with the cleric.
A few more minutes of riding, the ravens, amid the trees, watching unblinkingly downward. The road dips at its side there, a natural ditch at the base of an old oak. A bit of dark cloth comes into view.
Derleth blinks. "That's nae good...." he urges Platinum further forward, to try and see more.
At twenty feet from the body, the problem seems apparent; an arrow sticks from the side at a weird, slanted angle. The cloth seems to be spread out and crumpled, the shape of a cloak, dark green shot with brown...and stained in several places.
Derleth says, "Well, the odds seem ta favor 'dead'...."
Kyrel says, rather drily, "Looks like you got the ranger you wanted, Derleth. Next time, ask for a live one."
Christof frowns. "Well, they could still be alive! We have to check, don't we, and give proper burial, if healing is not needed?"
Kyrel nods to the boy. "Sorry. You're right, of course... one gets a bit cynical over time." He keeps a watch for danger while the cleric checks the victim.
Derleth nods absently, but scans the trees to make sure no one awaits in ambush as he dismounts and walks to the body. He finds a stick and hooks it under the cloak, moving it away with a sudden motion.
A woman. Or what resembles one, under the blood and cuts. Her leather armor seems slashed, where edges had found a mark. Blood has dried over the wounds. The cloak hitches where the arrow still protrudes, from a hip; not a mortal wound or even a deep one, a small gleam from the exposed arrowhead peeking through the armor. The grass moves, very slightly, under her lips.
Kyrel nods to himself. Okay, Kiri, c'mon back. Things look under control.
Derleth frowns and kneels at her side then, checking for a pulse, but not removing his gloves to do so. It's there, but faint. Very, very faint. The bat wings back to Kyrel, perching on his shoulder, before crawling to the dark warmth under his cloak.
Derleth takes off his gloves then. "She's alive, but barely." He chants to his goddess and calls for healing then as he exposes the arrow wound, and looking for more about her. He breaks off the head, tossing the shaft aside, then pulls the head out as his magic sews up the flesh, carefully working the point free.
Kyrel dismounts, since it's apparent that the woman has been alone for some time. "She'll take a while to recover, even with healing spells. I'll rig up a travois."
The wounds begin to heal, much cleaner now. And her breathing seems to come back, stronger and more steady.
Derleth looks about the rest of the woman, looking for symbols or identifying marks. A thong dangles from the woman's neck, holding the holy symbol of Prydain, a unicorn's head. On the same string is a disk, depicting the image of two woman's eyes with seven sparkling stars above, the mark of Selune.
Christof starts to move toward Derleth...then decides he knows what he's doing, and moves back toward the illusionist, feeling he'll be more useful helping.
Kyrel keeps an eye on Derleth, while teaching Christof the method for making an emergency stretcher. "Works for transporting gear, too, if you suddenly find yourself with more goods than horses. It's slower than a wagon, but the horse can carry a lot more than on his back this way."
The boy nods, and starts gathering wood, to help construct. "We can use a blanket for it, right?" He asks, trying to bend a low branch enough to snap.
Kyrel nods. "A blanket will work, if its supported from underneath, or if it's strong enough on its own." He's found the two long poles that he'll use for the framing of the travois.
Derleth hmmms. "Inneresting." He looks at the fletching of the arrow then, shrugs and then tosses it away. "What do I know. The only one that'd know about arrowmakin'd be the lass onna ground. Well, least she's alive..." He turns to check and see how the travois is coming, and then does a double take, and grabs the bloodstained arrowhead. "'ello..."
Christof moves back to Kyrel, seeing how a branch won't be needed, and helps him tie the blanket to the poles. A small groan comes from the ditch.
Kyrel says, "Ah-hah.. Our mystery woman is awake. Let's see if she's coherent at all." He finishes the travois and walks over to where Derleth is working his medical miracles. "How's things going on this end?"
Derleth is startled a moment, and slips the arrowhead into a pouch as he crouches back down. "She be respondin' faster than ah thought..." He snaps his fingers in front of the woman's face. "Lass, kin ye hear me?"
The woman begins to roll onto her back...and grimaces. "Ouch..." Her eyes snap open, at the sound of voices and movement in front of her face, a hand dropping to the hilt of a longsword, one of several weapons at her belt...and blinks, again. "Oh." Through the blood and grime on her face, a faint smirk plays at her lips. "Yes...but, I think I'm a tad old to be a lass..."
Kyrel says, "He doesn't mean anything by it. I've heard him call grandmothers lassies. Welcome back to the land of the living, milady."
Derleth blinks, taken aback by her sudden coherency - and forthrightness. "Ah...yes, well...just me folksy way o' putting ye at ease, don'chye know..."
She chuckles, through a wince, and nods. "Indeed," She replies in a comforting way to the befuddled priest. "But, I think the best way of that would be to get me some water... I think I swallowed a desert..."
Derleth stares at his waterskin a moment, as if he'd forgotten what it was. 'Ah...yes, right here, lady." he says, unclipping and offering it to her.
She takes it and eagerly drinks, downing perhaps a fourth in a few swallows, before releasing to pant. "Thank you..."
Derleth says, "Ah...might we be so bold as t' ask what happened t'ye lady?"
She sits up, rubbing her hip, where the arrow struck. "I fell on an arrow," She says, half bitter, half playful.
Kyrel snorts. "Fell?"
"Well I didn't freely jump on it!" She quips.
Derleth would make a similar quizzical remark, but is distracted by the lady's now healed hip.
Kyrel grins. "Fair enough. Allow me to introduce myself. Kyrel Thalessian, at your service. The usually glib fellow staring at you is Derleth, and the boy here is Christof."
Derleth glares at Kyrel. "Ah wasnae staring!" He pauses at Kyrel's grin and adds, "Ah was...concerned. After all, she were in a bad way when we came across her."
The boy gives her a polite, if shy, nod. The woman tries to stand up...and lets out a whoosh of air, almost falling before she manages to grab the tree to support herself. She sits back down, shaking her head. "I won't be walking any time soon."
Kyrel shakes his head. "I wouldn't think so. We've got a stretcher rigged for you if you want."
Derleth jumps on that remark. "Ye had the right impulse, Ky. Did ye finish with the ...ah, ye did, good."
She pushes some of the dark, dirty hair from her face. "Oy...I need a cleaning..." She glances back up. "Really? How very thoughtful! Thank you."
Derleth grimaces. "Ah hope ye don't mind a bit of a rough road, lady...but it shouldnae be for long. There be a waystop nae far ahead."
She seems decked out for battle, or at least rigorous field work; pack, shield, bow, quiver, and weaponry. Though, the armor seems a bit torn up, to be of good service, but still enough to keep one's skin mostly intact . The woman nods, and starts to crawl out of the ditch.
Derleth helps the woman out. "Give us a hand, Kyrel, Chris..."
Kyrel offers a hand to the woman. "You probably need a hand with the gear, there."
She takes the illusionist's hand, leaning on Derleth a moment. "It's a bit heavy, yes..." Leaning on the cleric, she shrugs off her pack and bow, the quiver and small shield attached to her pack. Christof opts to help her to the travois.
A chuckle. Glancing back, she calls over her shoulder, "Where are my manners? I'm Silniya..."
Derleth bows with an armful of gear. "A pleasure, Lady Silniya..."
Christof helps her into the travois, the woman settling down, and casting aside her torn and befouled cloak, crumpling it up. A sigh. "I must make a note not to run from those with arrows."
Kyrel says, "It helps not to be visible when you do it, at least. What happened?"
She grins faintly, as she lies down in the stretcher. "I didn't quite fall on it."
Derleth straps the assorted arms to Platinum's saddle,. "Nae unless they were planting them in th' ground, nae..."
She clicks her tongue at that. "That'd be rather ineffective as caltrops, unless they're trying to spear wyrms."
Kyrel chuckles. "I gathered that." He glances at Silniya again, this time noticing the pale streak that runs through her dark hair, hard to spot through the dirt. "So who were you running from?"
Derleth says, "Mebbe they were tryin' t' grow arrow-trees..."
With a soft sigh, she settles back into the travois. "A mounted archer. He'd hit me in the flank while I was in full run; it was more the fatigue and blood loss that brought me down, than the arrow. Of course, as slow as I was going, I just fell over into the ditch, and played dead... Thankfully, he believed me. Or his comrade didn't want to go and find out, or maybe someone was coming. Either way, I'm lucky."
Kyrel says, "Indeed. Highwaymen?"
A pause. "Rather, zealots."
Kyrel shakes his head at his own guess. "No, highwaymen would've robbed you and not cared if you were dead. What kind of zealots?"
Derleth seems busy with the gear, but is actually listening intently to what she says next...
Silniya shakes her head. "Those following an uneducated course, fanatics on generalizations... But, enough on them. Where are we headed?"
Kyrel says, "South to Seleguant is our intention. For now, the next waypoint, Demid, I think it was - unless you have an objection?"
She smiles. "Demid? Ooh, good. When I left, I'd heard that a traveling crew was to be stopping there, and setting up."
Derleth says, "Crew? O what sort? A band o adventurers? A tradesman's caravan?"
"A Carnival."
Derleth says, "Really? T' think o' that...been awhile since we seen a good show. Still..we shouldnae wait overlong..."
Kyrel says, "I didn't know we were on a schedule."
Christof seems to perk at that. "Carnival? I've heard of those! Sounds quite fun!"
Derleth smiles to Kyrel. "Well, perhaps nae a schedule, but fergive me if I do think on a little urgency to our trip..."
"What's holding a torch at your feet?" quips the woman.
Derleth points to Kyrel. "T'get 'is bat to warmer weather." he says with a disarming grin.
She smirks at this. "You're married?"
Derleth blinks befuddledly. "Eh? nae....he's got a real bat."
Kyrel chuckles. "Not exactly." He reaches under his tunic again and pulls out the grumbling bat. "My familiar, Kiri. Say hello to the nice lady."
Kiri gives a chirrip, then seems to pause for a moment, the hair bristling on his neck, before he goes back to normal and covers his head in his wings, grumbling to Kyrel about mid-afternoon sun.
"Ah..." she replies, giving a nod. "You're a wizard. I figured as much; supple hands."
Kyrel chuckles and lets Kiri go back to sleep. Now what was that all about, my little friend? Kiri chirrips, crawling back into the protective cloak. Not right, the bat replies.
Derleth says, "Christof, ye got Silniya secure?"
The lad nods. "Aye! All tied and secure." With no further ado, he climbs back into the saddle.
Derleth smiles kindly to the lady. "If ye're set, Lady, lets get ye t' more comfortable quarters without delay, hmm?"
She sends a nod the cleric's way. "Gladly. A bed, or even nice mossy ground would do well, right now."
Derleth hops in the saddle, and pats Platinum's rump to indicate to Christof to do the same.
Maya looks at them as they start off, but waits for the signal from her rider. Kyrel nudges Maya's flanks with his heels, and the horse moves forward, whuffing in protest at the extra weight of the travois.
After an hour and a half, the three pull up to the fence surrounding Demid. It's a small trading post, for the loggers working somewhere to the west, for carvers to come and ply their trade, and for small farmers to sell and buy goods. A few houses, a tavern, all the makings of a small village dot the area. A large open area is roped off for the present, apparently the fair grounds.
Derleth pulls his horse up to the hitching post outside the inn. "Pull 'er up and see if'n we kin get lodgin' fer the lass." he says to Kyrel. He looks to the sun in the sky. "It's nae that late, dye think we should hole up here?" he asks.
Christof looks unhappy. "We're not going to see the carnival?"
Kyrel chuckles. "Let's not disappoint the boy, Derleth. It's late enough that it's not a problem to wait here overnight."
Derleth smiles sheepishly at his mage companion. "Guess that answers th' question."
The woman nods. "I would join you, of course, but I'm in no condition to walk about and be merry..."
Derleth considers. "Ye know, once we see t' some more proper rest an healin, ye might be well enough at leas' t' see the show... But lets think on that once we see how the cards lay."
Kyrel says, "I'd have to agree. If they're starting tomorrow, we'll spend a day. If not... we'll see."
Christof peers towards the fairgrounds. The signs are that it's not quite finished; the sounds of hammering, lack of music, and lack of the smell of baked goods suggests they're not yet set up.
Derleth grins. "They're nae ready yet, lad. Now get down an' help me wi' the forestlady."
He nods, and slides down from the saddle. "Aye." Silniya looks up. "Well, I have training as a forester, true...but I'm equally trained with swords."
Derleth smiles at her. "Ah expected nae less, considering ye wear the High Ranger's badge."
Kyrel waits until Christof and Derleth are helping the ranger into the inn, and mutters the cantrip to detect magic. He's been wary ever since Kiri's initial reaction. The spell indicates nothing unusual about the woman, though, except that her sword and gloves are enchanted. No surprise, for a fighter-type. I'll have to have Derleth detect evil later. Or maybe just get Kiri checked for indigestion.
The tavern is bustling. Folks from all around, and lots of different trades are inside 'The Dusty Throat'.
Derleth takes the front of the stretcher, seeming cheery enough, but thoughts running through his head. Once Ky and I have time alone, I'll show him the arrowhead. I've a suspicion that's neither good nor evil in and of itself, but should be noted for our own safety...
The group rents rooms, and with the two Lliara's faithful, they help the ranger up the stairs, and into her own room.
Later that day, as the sun starts to caress the horizon, the three find themselves down in the taproom, Christof eyeing a glass of ale curiously. The room is filled with rather interesting folk, some with the dusky hues and lines of those far to the south and east, where the sands stretch across the surface of the world. Others have the lighter complexions and articulate, smooth voices of the Moonshae Isles. Generally, the foreigners seem to be gathered at different tables, staying with their own countrymen rather than mixing.
Kyrel sits down with dinner and an ale, and looks seriously at his companions. "Well... what do you think of our foundling?"
Christof is still eyeing Kyrel's ale, before looking up. "Huh?"
Derleth took a couple bites of bread and a swig of ale before responding. "I think there be more to her tale than she implies."
Kyrel nods. "Kiri didn't like her at first. Something wrong, he said, but he couldn't say what. She's got appropriate magic for a ranger, though... sword and gloves." He lowers his voice. "But.... she healed much too rapidly. She should have been much shakier after being that close to dead, even with healing magics."
Derleth says nothing for a moment. Then he reaches into a pouch and pulls out an arrowhead. A silver one. "This be what were imbedded in her flesh."
Christoff looks from one, to the other. "So...is she something evil? Undead..." The boy pauses, spying Derleth's treasure.
Kyrel raises an eyebrow. "Ah-hah. That would explain much. Did you have a chance to detect evil on her?"
Derleth says, "Nae. But that might mean nothing. She wears the mark of Selune, don't ye know."
Knowing something about this, the boy nods. "Yes, Selune... goddess of the moon. She's...er... She's important, right, Derleth?"
Derleth smiles. "She also be the patron goddess of good and neutral werefolk, Chris. A fact which means much, under the circumstances."
Kyrel says, "And it would explain the comment about fanatics. I suppose we should ask her about it."
Christof's eyes widen. "Oooh... So, she's a werething?" Christof exclaims, a tad too loud for his voice to only reach the duo.
Derleth says, "Mayhaps. We all have secrets, Kyrel...well, mayhaps not me. Thy brother once said ah have nae head for guile, an wear my intentions on me sleeve. Besides, if our supposition is wrong and she do be evil, then we'll have overplayed our hand, and could be in danger for it." He hushes Christof. "Keep it down, lad."
Kyrel looks around the room after a quick glare at Christof, to see if anyone has noticed the less-than-discreet comment.
Derleth says, "It might be prudent to use what divinations we have to at least assure us she means no ill..but aside from that, mayhaps we should just let her go her way an us ours."
A man in fine clothing, and a pair of instrument sticks at his belt glances over at the pair, Kyrel spotting the curiousity in his face.
Christof tilts his head, leaning to tug on Derleth's sleeve. "Malar," The boy breathes. "Isn't Malar the lord of beasts? You know... of hunting and slaughter? Wouldn't, if werethings were evil, they follow him?"
Kyrel nods to Christof. "If they were evil, most likely. But not all werefolk are evil. Bears, especially, are often of good alignment."
Derleth nods. "Aye, lad. But me point is, the badge of Selune she wears might be a stalking horse, an nae an indication of her decency."
Kyrel says, "Which is why I asked if you had checked."
Derleth shakes his head. "Later, I will."
The fellow who had caught Christof's words seems to be leaning closer, catching bits and pieces of information.
Kyrel looks at the man and stops talking. Uh-oh. He even looks like he might be a bard.
Derleth grabs a ham leg and tears off a hunk of meat with his teeth. "At any rate, we be well enough fer now...there's nae ta worry about. Naew eat up, both o' you."
Eyes catch Kyrel's, a salt and pepper brow lifts, as he gives the half-elf a questioning, curious look.
Kyrel gets Kiri a few scraps of meat and returns the look. "May I help you?"
The lad seems unaware of the eavesdropping, enjoying his mutton. The bard, however, turns at his table, and bids his companions goodbye before moving over. Tapping on the empty chair of the trio's table, he asks, "Do you mind?"
Kyrel shrugs. "Feel free."
Derleth hmmms, not having noticed the bard, and nods, trying to talk around a mouthful of food, and then chewing, swallowing and saying, "Well met, an, be welcome."
With a nod, he gives a smile, pulling back the chair and settling in. "Zamshin Shee." He gives a polite gesture of greeting. Leaning closer, "I was...overhearing your conversation, at least a bit of it." At this, Christof sinks a little further in his seat.
Derleth is suddenly on guard. "Ah see."
Kyrel grins. "Our young friend isn't as quiet as he might be. No harm done."
Derleth gives Kyrel a look that seems to say. "Keep him talking." He fingers his holy symbol suggestively as he does it.
Kyrel says, "I'm Kyrel, the boy is Christof, and my clerical friend is Derleth. What can we do for you, then?"
He smiles, faintly. "A pleasure." Eyes dart around, a moment, a hand rising to rub under his nose. Leaning forward, "Anyways, you say you've a lycanthrope problem, then? Well... Not saying I'm an expert or anything, but I do have a bit of knowledge of that, being of Buldar's Gate as Iam... I'm not Qwua, you understand, but I could help..."
Derleth conceals the motions and words of a divinitory prayer as Kyrel distracts the bard...one to seek out untruths.
Kyrel shakes his head. "Not a lycanthrope problem. We had a chance meeting on the road, is all. Now vampires....."
The bard holds up his hands. "Now, now let's not get into vampires. Qwua's kept his carefully under protection. That one isn't parching it's dusty throat, anytime soon. Anyways, you mentioned a chance meeting, then?"
Kyrel says, "To the north. We've been making our way down from Tarlbren. Something odd about a fellow we'd met, and we're trying to pin down what it was." "
The bard aaahs. "I see... well, that's what I was talking about. One of the Silver Stakers, or a stretcher from Buldar's Gate, I'm thinking, was here, really. That's what I was talking about."
Derleth says, "Silver Stakers? This name be unknown ta me."
A nod. "Pardon. The Silver Stake. It's a group, right off of Buldar's Gate... Lycanthrope hunters."
Derleth digests this. "And ye say they be hunting quarry hereabouts?"
He spreads his hands. "Well, one of Selune's is with the... Oh," A laugh, as he taps his forehead. "I'm with the carnival."
Kyrel smiles. "An interesting occupation. You're starting tomorrow?"
Derleth notes the change in topic. "How d'ye know of this Silver Stake hunter?"
He nods. "Anyways... well, we've got their eyes on us, y'see..." A glance this way and that. "They're rather upset, with some of our... exhibits. So, they've got one of their flakies following us..."
Kyrel says, "Ah-hah. They have a little trouble distinguishing between good and evil werefolk, I take it?"
"Oh, no no, not that." A wink. "We have a... 'freak show'. They don't like what we have in there. They're afraid of infection. So, they have one of their fanatical loons riding with us."
Kyrel says, "Infection? I thought that required a bite..."
Derleth steeples his hands together. "Ah see." he says thoughtfully.
Christof seems a little uncertain, now. However, Zamshin continues. "No, we don't have a live one. Infact... we just have pieces. A little more dangerous stuff, in concerns to the 'afflicted', but nothing that'll jump up and eat you. If you want to know all the stuff, stop by the stand, in the booth. See Qwua, for the gritty details."
Kyrel shrugs. "Not a problem either way, as far as I'm concerned. We'll see what we see tomorrow."
Derleth smiles genially. "Aye. Young Chris here has an especial interest in yer carnival, don' ye?"
"Certainly. Just trying to give a little info y'might need. The loon sort've went a little wild, last night, I hear... went off in a flurry after something. I don't pay much attention to him, though." The lad glances up, as Derleth speaks to him. "I...ah...sure..." He replies, in a small voice.
Kyrel winks. "He's not seen one before."
A chuckle. "Ah hah... he looks a little green around the gills."
He squeaks a little. "No, I'm fine!" A tad defensively, and a bit red around the cheeks.
Kyrel chuckles. "We were all young once, Christof. In twenty years you'll be ribbing the youngsters, too."
Derleth looks bemusedly at Christof, but doesn't comment. "An what d'ye do there, Sirrah Shee?"
The lad shakes his head. "I'm old enough! I'll stare down an ogre..." A glance to Derleth.
Derleth smiles at Chris. "An ahm sure the ogre'll be mightily scared oh ye, lad." he chuckles,
Zamshin lifts a stick from his belt. "I play a Liyin. Interesting thing, found on the shores of Chult. Never actually been there myself, but I learned how to play it." A smirk. "I also run the knife-throwing spot."
Zamshin's former table seems to be turning toward him, giving a whistle. He turns, before glancing back. "Well, gents, enjoyed the conversation, hope I helped. Stop by, give a dagger a toss, eh?"
Kyrel says, "We just might do that. Thanks for the info."
Derleth chuckles. "Mayhap ah might toss a blade wi' ye then...oh, Sirrah? One last thing?
He's all ready sliding out of his chair. Nodding to Kyrel, "Certainly." Turning to Derleth, the cleric is shot a grin. "Hope y've got the talent. Hm?"
Derleth says, "A've moren' that, Sirrah. Ah've got the Lady's blessing. At any rate...if ye hear tell that yer loony watchdog happens back this way, c'd ye see yer way t' letting us know?"
A nod. "Ya. He's working the grounds, as a guard, and we try to get him to work the spooks. He's not too big on that, but, oh well." A shrug. "You ask around for the loony, you'll get pointed."
Derleth says, "Thankee for t' tip. Be well, in yer work."
Kyrel chuckles. "Ah, well. Thanks again."
He gives a polite, if foreign gesture of farewell and returns to the table with his fellows.
Derleth sits at the edge of his cot later that evening, fingering his holy symbol, and facing the wall beyond which Silniya rests. "Well, we might as well be about it then..." he says to Kyrel.
Christof looks tired, but he seems to try and stir himself, hearing Derleth. "Do you need me, too, sir? I can... I can... hold on to her legs!"
Kyrel chuckles at that image, then starts laughing outright before regaining control. "I doubt we'll need that, Christof, but thanks for offering. You can come along if you want."
Derleth blinks at the boy, and then laughs. "Chris, there's nae need for such rough stuff...if she be a lycanthrope o' the viler sort, ah'll be able t'sense it wi'out being in her presence."
"Oh... well, then, why not?" Christof looks a little relieved, actually, but still seems to want a part. He then peers back at Derleth. "How...? I remember the paladin could, but, you can sense it so well, sir?"
Derleth says, "T'Bodan, 'tis a natural ability. But th' prayer that Lliara grants me is nae less powerful. Ah c'd sense a tarnished nature through this wall wi' ease." He does not delay further then, clutching his holy symbol and chanting the words of power, concentrating on the lady he knows waits behind the wall..
Derleth concentrates for a moment as the spell takes effect, and then shakes his head. "She's clean. Unner the circumstances, ye think we might warn her that the fellow is apt t' return?"
Kyrel says, "Most definitely. We don't need her to be fighting with a fanatic right here."
Derleth says, "All right, then." He gets up and exits, turning the corner and knocking on the door. "Lady? Be ye decent?" After a moment, he realizes there isn't going to be an answer.
He worries then. "Lady? Be ye well?" He knocks a little louder.
Kyrel sighs. "Either she's really asleep, or she's not there."
Derleth looks balefully at Kyrel. "An if she's nae there, it throws all up in th' air again." He test the door, to see if it's locked.
The knob refuses to turn, the lock catching at Derleth's attempt.
Kyrel says, "I'd figured that out, yes..."
Derleth sighs, "D'ye have a lock-opening dweomer about ye, Kyrel?"
Christof pokes his head out of the room. "What's the problem, sir? You were banging on the door..."
Kyrel says, "Afraid not. But ... I do have Kiri." He heads back to their room and opens the window. Check if she's in there, Kiri. Peek in the window, or fly in if it's open, okay? "She's not answering her door, Christof." "
Derleth thinks then, and swivels around in a circle, thinking to check if evil present anywhere else nearby...
Kiri chirrups! and moves into the night. Of course, the bat flutters around the front of the building, first, before winging back past their window, to Silniya's.
Derleth says, "Yer chirping companion do earn his weight in crickets, don't ye know. ;)"
Kyrel says, "Aye, he does at that." His eyes unfocus for a moment as he communes with his familiar. "Ah-hah. She's not in there, unless she's hiding in the closet, and the window is indeed open."
Derleth blinks. "Open. Mmmm. That doesnae speak well. Obviously, she wanted t' be gone wi'out anyone knowing she were gone."
Kyrel peers out the window at the nearly full moon rising. "And... if our guess was right, she's off hunting. Lycanthropes don't have to follow the moon, but they often do from what I understand. Enough to give rise to that legend."
Derleth looks at Kyrel. "D'ye think the danger is real enou' that we should go looking for 'er?"
Christof blinks. "I'll...I'll stay and guard Kiri!"
Kyrel says, "I don't know... we ought to, I suppose. If she's dangerous, we brought her here. If she's in danger, she can use the support." He grins at Christof. "I think Kiri's coming with us."
THe boy nods. "Well... I think I can protect the gear, then, and the rooms." He crosses his arms... and looks at Kyrel hopefully. The boy isn't able to hide the fact he's not too eager about going out, after dark, hunting a lycanthrope.
Kyrel nods. "Sounds fine to me. Shall we be off, Derleth?"
Derleth smiles and gives the boy his boot dagger. As an after thought, he murmurs a quick blessing on the boy. "Lliara be with ye in yer task, Christof. But should ye see Silniya, dae not confront her. Instead be our ears and eyes. Aye?"
A nod, as the boy pets the knife. "Sure thing, Derleth! I'll not mention a thing about it. Not gonna open a lip. Don't want her to eat me."
Kyrel says, "Wise thought."
Derleth smiles. "Come, Kyrel. The night and 'er mysteries await." Giving his equipment a check, he sets off with the wizard in tow.
As the two start down the stairs, the calls and yells of some battle held in the immense taproom drift to their ears.
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