Subject: Re: Looking down on Huss

OOC: So, are we bringing the falcons with us? Be nice to have 'em along. They're so handy. But if Garyth thinks they'd serve the town better, so be it.

The halflings stand together, off in the darkness a little bit, away from the townsfolk. Pensive follows their smell-- like dirt and roots, and sap from a skinned branch. Blood and stone, he can feel the tethers they've drawn among themselves from the middle of the camp. Never, since leaving Bannock's Ire, has he encountered such unity. Such single minded devotion to purpose. They are. . . annoyed with us, Pensive thinks. We move too slow, we are too loud, there are too many of us. . .

Us. He takes a breath at the thought. When did he start including himself in the townsfolk's lot? He'd found a people to love-- and now he was going to leave them.

Pensive does not try to sneak up on the halflings-- wariness clings to them like fog. He intentionally steps on branches, and scuffles his feet in leaves the closer he gets, until he can see that they see him.

Now what? The halflings stare at him, he stares at them. Was the halfling that had spoken with Garyth among this bunch? "I am Pensive," he says, clearly. "One of your people, a hunter named Melani, travelled with us. She left our camp to ask your permission to enter your home. Have you seen any sign of her?"

Blood and Stone, hopefully one of them speaks Common...

Subject: Re: Looking down on Huss

Thank you. :)

Mark

Subject: Re: Looking down on Huss

When Pensive speaks, one of the Kalama leaves his group and walks over to the elf. He looks Pensive up and down, then says in passably good mainland Common, "If it's Reth'Tenn Melani you speak of, we didn't see her. Our Belneth sent us. But the forest is large, and the Reth move like ghosts, even to our people. It's possible we missed her."

Startled, Pensive can only reply, "You speak very good Common."

The Halfling grins. "I went to school for three years on the mainland. My father was a Halfling trader in Nesalin, what the forest Halflings derisively call 'huddlers'. He moved us to the mainland for a while."

Pensive looks at the hunter's ragged leathers and dirty face. The Halfling stares back, a little defiantly. "I didn't like life in the human world. My mother is Kalama, so I'm Kalama. That's how these people see it."

Pensive nods. He has felt the tight bonds of family and clan within the Kalama. Not far away, the other Halfling stumbles through his conversation with Bragga. Pensive asks, "Why is he doing the talking?"

The Halfling shrugs, "He's in charge."

Subject: Re: Looking down on Huss

OOC: Grr. Had this whole thing written up, and then Yahoo ate it.

Pensive says, "You've done a fair bit of travelling then." He bites his lips and let silence fall between them. What to say now? If Garyth left tonight to set off to meet the mages, Melani would be unable to follow them. But. . . maybe it was better that she stay with her people. If he had a people to stay with, wouldn't. . .

Not his decision. He says, "My companions and I-- we may not travel back to your home. If you do see Melani, will you tell her we are bound for a place called Gully's Patter? I don't know where it is-- but if she wishes, she may join us there."

There. Let the little halfling woman make her own choice. Pensive rolls his shoulders. "I came here from the mainland," he says wistfully, and smiles. "My heart's home is in the mountains, far from the ocean, far from large cities. It is-- good to meet someone. . . no, many people, I suppose, who know their home so well. I am jealous of your people, but happy for you."

And because it has become his habit, he asks the Kalama, "I. . . I am looking for elves. Do you know of any on the island?"

Subject: Re: Looking down on Huss

OOC: I'm assuming that Garyth's conversation with Bragga and Pensive's conversation with the Kalama are happening more or less simultaneously.

IC:

"I know you want to save us. But there is no saving to be done here. This is a delaying action and nothing more. You are supposed to be meeting your friends to take care of this demon once and for all. Let me take the town to the Kalama. I've been watching over these folks since before you were born. I'll get them that far."

Garyth hesitates. Bragga is right, of course, but years of training have left a little voice like a drill sergeant in the back of his mind, admonishing him not to leave his post. But this wasn't where he could do the most good, and now that the Kalama had arrived, the loss of Garyth and his men would scarcely be noticed.

Which brings him to another thought. Should he bring the Falcons with him? They'd proven themselves good soldiers, but already they'd lost a comrade, and what lay ahead would be far more dangerous.

Garyth nods and clasps hands with Bragga. "You're right, sir," he says. "May the gods watch over you. Over all of us, for that matter." There is no need to say more. Bragga is a professional with decades of experience--he knows what to do. Garyth goes off to assemble the Falcons.

A few minutes later, he is addressing his men. He paces back and forth a few steps, then plants his feet and faces them. "You've all proven your worth over the past few days. Through combat and hardship, you've shown me what kind of soldiers you are: the kind that get the job done, no matter the opposition. I'd expect no less of Blood Falcons. But what we've faced so far will be nothing to what lies ahead, and I'll not order any man to follow me where I must go, nor will I allow any of you to come ahead blindly."

He pauses, catching each man's eye in turn. "I go to face the demon. Not the puppet troops he sends, the ones who destroyed my home and chased my people halfway across the island, who killed our comrade, Kenneth." He swallows bitterly, then continues. "The armies we've seen, these are nothing to the demon. And I do not go to face the demon's lieutenants, the fallen knights and undead witches, though any one of them is most likely powerful enough to kill me without raising a sweat. No, it is to the darkness' heart I go, to try to end this for good. I don't expect to I will live, but death is the least of my worries, for if the demon takes me . . ." He stops, groping for words. "I don't even know what horrors he will visit on my soul," he admits, finally.

"There is much to be done here, seeing the townspeople safely the rest of the way to the Kalama lands and helping to guard them once there. Believe me, staying with the town will not be sunshine and roses, either. But the path I choose is surely a mad one, a suicide mission, and once on it, there is no turning back. If any of you choose not to come, you will still be the finest men I've ever served with, and probably the wiser for it."

"Well then, what will it be?"