DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HWD: The Heartwood On the Road to Talantal

Daxia

Daxia regarded the man for a moment, then smiled. “These are interesting questions you pose, Jankin. When I would pose such interesting questions to Priestess Kassia, she would remind me that catching the attention of the Gods and Goddesses was very unwise. Would merely asking question catch their attention? Kassia seemed to believe so.” She caught his gaze and held it as she continued.

“And if we should ask if there is something beyond them, if we should question whether the world itself has a will, might that not lead to attentions we would rather not have?”

She turned to Mikal, eyes filled with pain at his words.

“Don’t be sorry, Mikal. Because we do as our Goddess and God bid us to do, it is not necessary for us to be happy in the taking of a life. In fact, long ago it seems, back in Cragside, Kadri counseled me that it is better to feel anguish at the taking of a life, for that is what will keep us decent people.”

She glanced at Kadri and shrugged. “I think demons and avatars of certain gods do not fall in that category, for I certainly felt no heartache when they died.”

Cesare

The change of weather and the growing green around them brings a more spritely step and a lighter demeanour in the Rhoni. Winter is cold. Cold brings hardship. Spring green promises more fruitful pickings along the way. Life is easier, more pleasant.

Listening to the conversations he tends to agree with Mikal's summation the most although he does not see himself as a dealer of death, even though he has been in that role since joining this group. He takes life a day at a time though and hopes that maybe that side of things will not be as prevalent in their future.

Eventually he starts to join more in the general conversation, though he can be more direct than Mikal, turning to Jankin and asking..

"You were travelling alone. Seems likely then that you have skills to defend yourself, yet I see no obvious weapons. How is that?"

Kadri looks over at Mikal and speaks, quietly, and plainly.

“Mikal ... I may not be wise, but I have thoughts on this. As long and people are people, there will be death, there will be violence, there will be change, good and bad. People will be brutal to other people. You didn't kill those people, they killed themselves with their choices and your sword was their means of suicide. Like Dazi, I would trust you with my life and death because I KNOW that in taking life you are wounded as your foe is. I know you for an honorable and a good man, and I take pride in knowing you."

Listening to the discussion, so much more full and free-flowing than with his mentor with the addition of people from so many different walks of life, he found a great contentment he hadn't looked for. Nodding his agreement with the words of Daxia and Mikal, his face creased in sympathy for Mikal's words. For a little he walked alone, thinking on what had been said, until Cesare spoke.

"I have my staff, and can use it well enough to fend off or frighten anyone wishing to rob me for my load of wood. I am quick enough to avoid many blows, but my primary defense is that I have nothing worth taking, and give no offense. Who would bother?"

By this time his routine will have become clear to the group. He gathers fallen wood whenever he can, always looking for the dry well-seasoned pieces with no rot. At day's end he sorts through it and keeps the best pieces aside for carving, while the rest goes to the fire. Each night he sats deadfalls and other traps, then wakes early enough to have any animals caught skinned out before the group takes the road again. The meat goes to the communal pot and the best skins he keeps aside, treated with an herbal paste and rolled for future attention. Jankin's hands are never idle, and his multi-purpose knife is kept razor sharp. There is always some small child's toy or humorous figurine slowly taking shape in the curve of his hands at the tip of his knife.

Mikal

He simply grunts softly, and nods thanks, at Kadri's comment.

When Jankin adds his thoughts about having nothing worth taking, he shakes his head. "Do not depend on such too strongly, Jankin. I have known men who would kill you for your boots. Worse, men who would kill you just for the pleasure of hearing you scream and to watch the pretty picture your entrails would make as they escaped your body. And I know personally of men who would strip you naked, march you off in chains to work in the mines until you died, and fight each other over your carvings as you walked away."

"There are too many such men." His face turns harder. "Fewer now than there were some years ago, but the world will never lack for such."

He looks closely at Jankin. "I'd not see you, or any man, reach those ends. My best advice is to depend on the speed of your feet much more than your lack of wealth to protect you."

He shrugs and forces out a chuckle. "I am being morose now." He glances around. "It is probably the proximity to....", he gestures off vaguely to the North.

... it is a quiet voice that speaks.

Indeed, she even draws up her white mare, bringing it to a stop, looking to Mikal with a sudden flash of dark, dark and so aristocratic eyes of sapphire.

Upon a sentence with three words looped within it.

Pleasure.

Pretty.

Entrails.

The blackhaired woman's words are in a perfectly accented colonial.

"You.

"Do.

"Not."

Tapping her heels, Dancer broke into an immediate leap, into an immediate canter.

She rode the rest of the day a fullhand of paces ahead of her companions.

Mikal

He lifts an eyebrow as Romana rides off, turning to Daxia and shrugging. "Any idea what that was about?"

Daxia

Daxia nodded, watching after her friend.

“You hit a nerve.”

She looked at Mikal. “Remember the stories she told. I know Kadri and I weren’t the only ones who heard them.” She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. “You probably couldn’t have described her father more accurately if you tried.”

Daxia turned and urged Morning Star up the road after Romana, not even making an attempt to catch up to her until they stopped for the day.

Kadri pauses, and nods gravely.

"We'll talk with her tonight, I am sure."

Darian
way back at the first introduction

Like Cesare, she offered only a nod of greeting. Those she traveled with knew she spoke little by choice, and that mostly to the Snarkhound though she also favored Cesare with more words than the others.

as they traveled...

Her cloak and boots were leather though her traveling clothes were well used and well kept linen. She carried a bow and a long knife hung at her waist. She moved with an easy grace of someone accustomed to being out of doors, and when there was no shelter to be had from farm or tavern, or even when there was, she would often supplement their evening meal with fresh game.

Nights around a fire saw her use the time to construct arrows and add them to her quiver. As the days grew warmer, she threw back her cloak and hood more fully, enjoying Her light and warmth as it deepened the bronze of her skin, setting off even more so the gold of her eyes.




[welcome Owain!]

[OOC Beautiful eyes.. ]

Cesare

He listens as Jankin provides his reasons, then to Mikal as he gives his opinion.

"I think Mikal has more of the right of it. I have never found obscurity any form of defence."

There is the flash of a grin. He is Rhoni. Hard for Rhoni to be obscure and they often attract the wrong sort of attantion, some warranted, some not.

He does seem satisfied with Jankin's response though, even if he doesn't find it sound. The man has the right to determine his own behaviour, but Cesare like to know who might have his back and how capable they are.

Mikal

He nods. "My family, and my village for that matter, was about as obscure as you can get. Didn't help them none."

Jankin:

"It is true, that this does not always work. For me in the past it has, but I find myself in different places now than ever before I have been. If the time comes and we are threatened, I will stand with you as best I can."

Cesare

He nods. It is all they could expect and at least they won't need to make a special effort to defend him any more than they would anyone in their group.

Is there more to Jankin that what he shows on the surface? Probably. It has been so for most people here.. but he is entitled to keep the details to himself and maintain his best defence.. after all he doesn't know if he can trust them yet.

Or they him...

The Heartwood
Bordertown
Dawn
Ramaday the First of Wolf ... and days beyond ...

Daxia, Darian, Cesare, Mikal, Dean, Kadri and Romana and Jankin

By dusk, by dinner, by the fall of night and the warmth of an oversized farmer's living room - the horses and gear tied up outside, a few coins traded for a helping of stew and bread; cool water to drink but no wine - andRomana had retuned to her spot in the company's shadow. Like the weather, her mood found it fit to turn back to one more friendly and warm.

Though of it she refused to speak. Unless, of course, someone cornered her.

And then a few days more.

These did not pass uneventfully. indeed, the further west the more crowded the trail had become; little side roads and horse paths converging upon the trail, like little streamlets feeding into a large river. Which, naturally, made the chance of an accident much much higher, especially as the terrain seemed to also become a bit more rough, a bit morerocky. The path began to wind around rock outcroppings; some of which were quite sheer, some perhaps a house or two high.

"Watch it ... watch it ... your swing too close ... too close ... too close ... KRYSTA'S HELLS!"

It was heard before seen, first the voices ahead and then the scream of horses and a crash - of something big falling, of wood splintering. The the cacophony.

" ... are you all right? ANSWER ME ...'

" ... cor ... cor ... cor ... we are in so much rouble ..."

" ... witches and firewood, we are bound for the quarries now."

" .. forget that, Paulie's down there!"

Rounding a corner and the traffic on the path had come to a complete and sudden halt. A trio of wagons blocked the trail, right where it took a corner along te top of a broken rockface. tumbled down the side, in a trail of wood and wagonwheels was the forth. It lay shattered at the base of the rock, the team that had been pulling it no longer kicking - slain by either the fall or the wagon's cargo that had fallen atop.

The wagon had been carrying long slabs of gray marble.

Montague marble.

It took a good while, alongside the Montague merchants, to clear away the wood and stone to find their teamster. Though it was a truly lucky day. Any other day they would have had no choice but to sit beside him as he went to dance with Krysta.

But today ... today chance had brought him a Lady of Atera.

" .. thank the bloomin' stars, man!"

" ... er ma'am ..."

Though it also brought a parting. Paulie's hurts were deep and still, even after Bekkah's touch, threatening to take him to a final rest. there was little choice in the matter; the demands of keeping ahead of the news would beak against a handfull of days it would take to heal all of the teamster's wounds. Lady Bekkah's duties were equally clear.

And thus it was, with a hug or two and sincere farewell, most continued towards the sunset, with a promise of of course I'll catch up and high summer in the Cathedral at Talesan's Village. in truth, however, there could be no more natural a parting, for this was exactly how Lady Bekkah had spent the last years; in the lowside fields, tending to those who truly needed her touch.

The broken wagon, however, did have a subtle effect, one that would not be felt until father down the trail.

It had delayed the small group exactly one half of one day. When night fell, it did not care if the small group was at a wayside rest or not.

The path changed again.

It was a familiar change for Mikal; the ground was more rocky, there were less trees, and the bits of grass were getting thinner and scarcer- someone farming here would have their work definitely cut out of a harsh heavy cloth. It reminded him of the rough lands of Brockman's Holdfast - which was somewhere ahead; in act the path would run past his home before reaching Talantal.

There was just this ravine between.

Even though it was warmer, Romana decided her cloak was more comfortable. She looked a touch nervous, each day, as they rode towards the sea.

Perhaps it was the hint of fel decorations upon the trail. Bits of rock, broken stone,Shards of usted steel, weatherworn shafts of broken wood, the scattering of little gray rings ... a buckle hear and there, all aged, the left overs from many years of raven pickings, flotsam and jetsam no longer even worh scavenging.

Finally, upon the twentieth of Horse, a tavern was passed. Not at the end of the day, but when the sun was highest in the sky. It had an odd name, the shingle had a hill and sun on it, the words spelling out "Half Day Out." But it did not sem that hospitable - not for unfriendliness, because it was obviously so, but because it was crowded. The patrons had spilled out into its porches and to even reach its doors one would have had to wave through caravan wagons, horses and teamsters.

Considering there were those stretched out atop their cargo, there was definitely no room at this inn.

Leaving the last of the afternoon upon the trail.

The sun had just reahed the far horizon when they reached it.

The deep ravine which slashed across the mainland. only a hundred feet or so was the other side, but it was also so much higher. There was a light; a simple torch in a jury-rigged fitting, on the side of a honey colored marble pier, which in turn was at the base of a series of zig-zagging switchbacks climbing upwards. At the crest it spring in a graceful stone arch across the chasm, from lowside to highside ...

... ending in a broken jagged edge about halfway across.

The base of the ravine, where the Silk Creek could be heard to rush and thunder, was already cast in darkness - but it was obvious, somewhere down there was the remainder of the Silk Creek Bridge.

From the edge of stone to the other side a connecting span had been built of wood. While strong it was definitely a much later addition, prompted by the necessity of trade - here was the only crossing, and the crossing had to be maintained. The skills to repair the stone ramparts was lost two Ages ago.

The stone was a silent clip clop from the horses hooves ... upon the wood they echoed loudly into the dusk.

When they reached the other side it was to a barren stone field. A fog, like a thousand gray cats slinking, was already drifting just above the ground.

It was the first evening mist they had seen since Bordertown.

There were only two buildings in sight. A sturdy inn; two stories, crafted of stone and heavy timber. the door was open and a figure could be seen in the entrance. if anything, this silhouetted person looked ... impatient. Rushed. The signboard that hung across the door had a single green tree painted on it.

The second structure was an open blacksmith shop. there was a ull red glow from the furnaces, but it was completely empty.

The only other landmark was at the very base of the wooden bridge. it towered over ravine and tavern, tall and green. it was a huge, ancient, gnarled pine tree, its roots dug right into the side of the stone cliffs and broken marble shards.

"Hurry ... hurry ... hurry ..."

The fog was cold, like a winter's breath, as if slipped about their legs as they tied up the horses.

The innkeeper bustled them inside -every one, including the snarkhound - and when he was done, he closed the door solid, he closed it and set a heavy bar in place.

He raised his hand.

"Three rooms is all I got. Ten crown a room, and since your here, that's a done deal.

"No one sleeps in the commons."

ooc notes ...

For reasons completely outside of the game Nivek has asked to step out. it has nothing to do with the game or anyone here ... and so i did so easily, simply ... with the ability, if he ever wants to come back - or even do a cameo for a few posts - will not only be able to but be welcome to!

Thank you Nivek, it was great having you and Bekkah in the game.

second ... there are three rooms ...

Who ends up in each room is VERY important; so let me know!

Daxia

Daxia had parted from her sister, tears running without shame down both sisters’ cheeks.

“Oh, Bekkah, I’ll miss you! Even more than all those years you were gone from Dawnview, because it’s been so good to have you close again.” The Dayalan hugged the Lady of Attera, tightly and fiercely. “But duty calls you, I know. I understand, even if my heart refuses.”

She was quieter after that, less inclined to initiate conversation. And though her smile was just as bright and her laugh still as cheerful, it seemed like she smiled less and laughed less.

Perhaps it was parting from Bekkah, or perhaps a reflection of the lands through which they traveled. Perhaps it was both. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was something more, too.

That day, the day that had them crossing the Silk Creek Bridge, was Daxia’s birthday. She didn’t mention it, she saw no point in doing so. Bekkah was not here to share it with her... and she had become accustomed to passing it as any other day since Bekkah had left for Lilia’s Castle.

There was something about crossing the honey marble half of the bridge — built by her Sisters in the First Age — and passing under the enormous tree that caused a look of melancholy to settle on her features. Though perhaps, just perhaps, it was something more, too.

When they reached the inn, and had gathered inside, she simply shrugged at the innkeeper’s pronouncement of charges. Looking around at her companions, she asked, “Darian, Cesare, Longtooth... Dazi, Kadri, Romana... Mikal, Dean, Jankin?”

[OOC: Niv, you made me cry... 3T <sniffle>]

KAdri doesn't say anythign other than leaning over at an opportune moment to give Daxia a big hug.

Darian

The Hunter glances up and shrugs. For her and Cesare and Longtooth it has become their normal arrangement. The sharing of a bed a pleasant convenience for them where it might not be for others.

"If room have more one bed, we have extra."

Kadri;

"Those accommodations, for me, are good."

Jankin:

He nodded his agreement to the arrangements, and set about pulling a couple of herbs from his pouch to brew tea. It looked like he was tired and needing sleep. Perhaps being so far from where he'd grown up had taken its toll.

Cesare

At the innkeeper naming a price, he looks at Darian with one eyebrow raised in question. He is just as happy to sleep out, even the rocky ground being preferrable - but the choice is Darian's.

Then he turns to the innkeeper, nodding towards the barred door - that and aware of the innkeeper's nervous disposition.

"A couple of questions, are we expecting trouble? And is that forge available to be worked?"

He smiles, calm, almost friendly but his eyes are everywhere landing on the innkeeper as his questions end.

Mikal

He bids goodbye to Bekkah with the others. He is especially sad to see her go. It is not a common thing for him to actually travel with a Priestess of Attera, and beyond her companionship, having a healer available immediately when needed is worth it's weight in gold.

Reaching the inn, he follows the others inside, leaving Talia in the stable. When the innkeeper slams the door closed and bars it as if he has no intention of opening it before morning, he turns to look back then at the innkeeper with a questioning expression.

He listens to Cesare's question and nods agreement. "Are our mounts safe?" He adds to the query.

As far as divvying up the rooms, he doesn't really care. He'd rather stay in the commons, but the innkeeper has ruled that out.