Another Arrives
Subject: Reunion, and another arrives...
The night passes quickly. The lengthy conversation between reunited friends is kept fueled by Gully's keg of ale, and tongues flow freely. Periodically, men come and go from their place on watches, and in this way all of the remaining Falcon's are introduced to the wizards and Kasen. Despite having lost nearly all of his goods, Gully does his best to play the gracious host. Manut sits silent, staring at Rennik for most of the night. At one point, he sneaks over to touch Renniks weapons, lying on the floor nearby. Gully moves over quickly and grabs him up. In Halfling he says, "Leave the hunters weapons alone! They are not for thickheaded boys. Your weapons are the mop and the broom. Now, get to bed or I will have you wield them both with vigor in the morning."
He sets Manut down and swats him on the butt to send him running. "Silly boy, but I've grown quite fond in the last few weeks. I sent word to his family with a few hunters that were passing through. I admit, I'll be sad when they come get him." He moves Rennik's pack up against the wall and settles it out of the way. When he sees the broken axe strapped to it, he says in Halfling, "Hunter, your weapon is broken. I am a blacksmith. If you are staying here for a few days, I might be able to repair it."
Finally, the group gives in to exhaustion and sleep. The following morning, Osred prays for a spell of restoration, and uses this blessing on Farron. The result is astounding. In an instant, his skin loses its grayish cast, and he regains his former health and vitality.
The group is sitting at the breakfast table when a knock is heard at the door. The men that Garyth has on patrol outside would not bother knocking...
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
It is good to be hidden from the dark sky. Pensive feels it through the night, the way that the bonds of these men, Garyth and the wizards and Rennick, entwines like a roof to keep the Shadow's glare off of them. There is something in this thing, this companionship. . . it is good. Perhaps even holy. Perhaps the Shadow is not to be defeated by sword or magic, but by strength of community. By relationships and friendships, and solid trust. . .
Fanciful thoughts. Pensive looks into the ale that he has barely sipped and grins to himself.
He even sleeps. Not for long, and all night, he clutches the holy symbol. But it is a good sleep. He awakes, and his head does not pound as much as it had out under the open sky. The Shadow tickles at him, scratches, whines-- but he is not oppressed by it.
The others still sleep. Pensive watches them in the darkness. He can make out the slender forms of the sleeping wizards, the bulk of the warrior Kaselin, the long, slender form of Garyth, and the hammer-tight lump that is Rennick. And Osred is snoring there.
A sudden longing fills Pensive. "I would be one of you," he almost whispers. He would. This morning, he feels the desire for community more strongly than ever since arriving. Odd that he should, he knows. He is Asha Eradu, he can feel what others feel, should he not be one of them? Should he not fit in with them? Should he not be their companion and brother? But the gift that makes him Asha Eradu makes him draw away. Their feelings are not to be searched out, pried open like books or trunks. When they come upon him, so let them come-- but Pensive will not grasp after them just to assuage his loneliness.
There are other ways, perhaps. He has grown out of the habit of service inculcated into the monks of the Path of Blood and Stone. Pensive creeps over to one of the sleeping wizards-- the dark one, Sa'id. He lifts his empty boots off the floor next to him, and makes his way to the table in the great room. In the dimness, he polishes the wizard's boots as best he can, in quitness and solitude. The other wizard next, and then Rennick. He is very careful with the armored men's boots, to keep them quiet while he works.
The tattoo on the back of his neck is warm, spreading slowly down through his biceps and wrists. Here is something the Mossground never intended-- its gift of the Stonesash being used to polish his companion's boots. The cloth he uses is a common rag, but in Pensive's hands, it is silk or wool, or scouring brush exactly as he needs it, when he needs it.
And more. Doing this service, his mind stretches out across the island. Where men fall to Shadow. Where hearts fill with Sand. And this time, he does not try to withdraw. He pushes into their feelings, tries to tell them. . . of a roof made of companionship, a light of fellowship, a strength in hope. It is something he has not done before, thrusting his own feelings out to others, and he cannot say whether he is successful. The Path would turn as it would, and perhaps he reached no one tonight.
But the thistle tattoo on his neck burns as hotly as blood. Success or no, this thing he was doing was right.
There are no more boots to be polished. Pensive leaves Garyth's next to him, and turns to see the halfling boy watching him. He falters a moment, then raises his finger to his lips. The boy gives him no sign that he understands, just continues to watch him with wide, dark eyes. Pensive smiles uncertainly, and leaves the cabin to exercise and meditate until dawn, and to see how well the roof of companionship bears up under the view of the sky.
OOC: This takes place before the knocking at the door. Pensive has returned for breakfast by the time he hears the knocking at the door.
IC:
Pensive glances at Garyth and Gully, then stands up. "I don't suppose the undead know to knock before entering," he says to Osred. "Do they?"
He is quite serious.
From: Raja
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Jeepers, Scott. After that, I'm practically ashamed of my last couple of turns.
Wow.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
A good night's sleep inside, followed by a hot breakfast made such a difference. What's more, someone had cleaned his boots for him. Garyth is leaning back in his chair, pondering who his secretive benefactor might be--Gully, perhaps, or Manut?--when a knock sounds at the door. He's on his feet, his hands flying to his weapons, before he even has time to think about it.
The Falcons wouldn't have knocked. Whoever this was had to have gotten through them first, and without them calling out. If it's an enemy, it's either very stealthy or very strong. Although, if it's an enemy, it's rather polite.
Pensive must have been thinking the same thing. He says, "I don't suppose the undead know to knock before entering. Do they?" Garyth shakes his head. Still, there's no telling who it was until the door is open. He motions for Osred and Vincy to take up positions flanking the door, out of the sight lines when the door opens. He cautiously approaches, leaving his weapons sheathed, and reaches out toward the handle.
From: Jake
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Osred's longsword, freshly oiled as part of his morning's devotions, slides from its sheath nearly silently. He steps to one side, sword held ready, and waits to see who comes through the door.
From: Raja
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
My... boots?
Someone polished my boots?
Manut, maybe?
Sa'id is still pondering when the knock sounds. Garyth responds immediately, directing his men.
"Wait," Sa'id says. "I'll cast a spell of warding." As he did when Garyth knocked, Sa'id stands about ten feet from the door and murmurs his incantation softly [Magic Circle Against Evil].
The necromancer nods. "You can open it now."