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Chapter Four: Enlightenment and the Daughters of Summertime

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"Agreed. I know a bit about appraising goods; let me see what kind of deal I can negotiate with the Trainers." She rolls up her metaphorical sleeves and starts to dicker for the best price to be had.

Appraise Goods skill roll. Lets hope for a 20!
[dice]4539[/dice]


Kinda a 20; what kind of deals can we make with the gear we are selling?
 
Assuming Luna wants clarification (as he'd already said he was a fighter/ranger) rather than a simple class statement, Bren considers how best to explain. "As far as combat goes, I'm generally an up-front kind of guy, though I can move about the battlefield pretty freely if need be." He pats the battleaxe on his hip. "I've learned that sometimes it's handy to have a ranged weapon as well - hence the bow - but overall I've focused my training on melee, and am at my best there. For instance, with a good enough swing I can generally knock an opponent backwards, which is useful in many situations. As far as skills...I know quite a bit about monsters and such, especially in this area. I'm also good with animals, and can ride with the skill expected of any of my family." He smiles, then continues. "I can track reasonably well. I speak several languages, including Elven, Dwarven, Sylvan, Orc, and Giant, and I'm familiar with the sign language used by the drow elves as well as with ogre trail markers, in case that comes up. I'm not much for spells, though; all I really know about spellcasting is what I've picked up from personal experience."


As the conversation turns back to the loot and what is to be done with it, Bren touches Bria lightly on the shoulder. "May I have a minute, my friend?" Drawing back to a corner, he speaks quietly, and rather sheepishly. "I'm afraid I wasn't expecting to meet trainers out here, and thus am not prepared to pay them for the service. Might I impose upon your kindness, and ask for a loan?"
 
Bria cannot help but giggle at Bren's manner, having never seen him this way. "I don't knooooow," she teases behind clasped hands. "Will you keep magnetizing elves into the party if I do? Hee hee!" She gives him a smile that shows total confidence in him. "Of course, Bren! May I just give them the coins they need? I am just horrible at remembering things like loans. Besides, you're my friend! I would rather you not owe me anything. You know well-enough how Ko go about life."
 
Luna approaches the Trainers. "Well, we are not enemies of Highwind, but I am uncertain how to prove that to you. Um, we did have letters of introduction to Bilal the Merchant before he betrayed us and locked us away in his prison. Would that be sufficient proof of our good intent towards Highwind? We have enough money for your services and are ready to pay if so."
 
  • Travis smiles a handsome and good-natured smile to Luna as she arrives. "Reputation works best and for that, we would like your names, if you please. We have a ledger containing adventuring teams loyal to Highwind."


    Bria steps up beside Luna and raises her hand like a child in class. "I'm loyal to Highwind!"


    "Can you prove it?"


    "Um, I think so? My name is Bria of the Ko. Our party is called the Wanderers? The Wayfaring Wanderers? Oh, no! I've forgotten our name already!" Bria looks to Luna with an expression that says, "Please forgive me!"


    "Um, I'm one of their newest members."


    "A Ko monk, huh? Is this your first adventuring team outside your own people?"


    "Oh, vertainly not! I have teamed with The Light in the Dark, The Wandering Monsters, the-"


    "Whoa... Hold it right there. The Light in the Dark?" Travis looks to his elven companion who flips some pages and studies the contents. Then, without a word, he nods to Bria and Travis. Travis looks back at the rest of you in mild shock and no small amount of admiration. "That team is responsible for taking down Gaunth the Dracolich. You know, Gaunth the Undying? The Dragon Who Could not be Slain? How in blazes they did it is beyond me. But something about your words isn't adding up... The abilities of the Light in the Dark far surpass your own; believe us, we can tell. So how is it that you are traveling with a team of such less experience?"


    "That's simple, sir - I gave some of my life essence to help restore Mielikki Brendoran did the same."


    "The forest goddess, Mielikki? And why did you do that?"


    Bria's answer comes without hesitation. "I'm a healer, sir," she smiles. "Sometimes gods need healing too."
 
Luna nods in understanding. "We have recently become a adventuring band, so your ledger may not have us in there under our current name. We are the Wandering Wayfarers, and I am Luna Kaftan, the leader of this particular bunch of misfits." She offers a smile. "I do assure you that we stand for causes of righteousness and truth, and we have all made oaths to be a beacon of hope to those that need it."
 
Travis returns the smile with an added look of respect behind it. "Well, miss Kaftan, that's definitely good enough to prove you're not against Highwind!" He puts a hand through his rough blonde hair and nods to Bren. "We can certainly have that talk sometime. Allow me to supply the ale, would you? Least I can do for a team of your magnitude. Could use more like you in Glimmerdawn with the way the Dark Reaches are growing."


"As for the Wandering Wayfarers, provide payment and get ready to sweat. We'll open our meager little shop to you. We have some basic supplies and weapons on-hand. You're also free to ask us any advice. We've got all of the basic adventuring classes covered, so for the next couple of hours, feel free to ask."
 
"Excellent. I have much that I want to pick up in the way of skills. Tell me, since you do training in sorcery, is it possible for me to purchase additional spells to add to my books? My focus has always been on fire magic, but that means that I have neglected some of the other basic spells that can be useful to us."
 
Travis looks over his shoulder. "Ah, you're going to have to talk to Schermitt about that." He indicates the thin robe-wearing human with the very long beard and spectacles...
 
Luna nods. "If it helps, I can offer up trade of some spells in my collection that you may not have to help sweeten the deal." She saunters over to discuss business with Schermitt.
 
Wolf coughs strongly and deliberately at the elf holding the ledger while making sure that his words in between are audible: "The Wayward Wanderers it is. Make sure you write that down correct if you'll be adding it to your records." And he smirks at Luna.


"Let's get to it, then. See if this old wolf can learn a couple new tricks."
 
Luna looks over at the old Wolf. "I don't know . . . you are really old after all." Her smile is wide and sparkling as she teases. "I just hope you have enough energy to make it through the training!"
 
"I hope this doesn't take too long.", Otiorin said, as Whittle magically conjured a plate of pancakes, bacon and sausages into his hands, "After all, there's pretty damsels in distress to rescue!"


As he said that, his memory was tripped by something this new man, Bren, had said back in the clearing, "Oh! I forgot to answer you, Master Bren, forgive our unspeakable rudeness. Skaagenrackner has tasked up with an urgent task. Three young maidens of the forest have been snatched away by evil-doers, thus we must go as fast as we may to liberate them from their captors and return them whence they came. And do justice unto their captors."
 
"Indeed, and one that would be willing to donate some of their life-force to aid a God is one that I feel comfortable having alongside me in a fight. If you are willing to join us, we are willing to have you along."
 
Bren nods to Otiorin, then gives Luna a smile. "Thank you, I would, very much so. Especially as it seems you have an urgent mission that I can wholeheartedly agree with. Rescue and justice, indeed!" He nods determinedly. "Oh, and just Bren will do fine. We'll be fighting at each other's side, after all, and I'm not one to stand on ceremony, especially with friends and allies."
 
Luna takes his hand and gives him a firm shake (firm for her; she is a delicate little girl, after all). "Welcome to the team. In the future, just remember that you had your chance to run away from our craziness and you elected to stay. Now, lets get to training!"
 
Powerpaw stomps forward and narrows his red eyes on Bren. His whiskers flare and his tail swishes quickly as he speaks of combat. The more he talks about combat, the more animated he gets. "You sez you iz a melee guy, an' you looks like one. So how you likes your melees? You likes protectin'? Harrassin'? Interruptin'? Or just puttin' a big fat hammer IN DA FACE?!" Then Powerpaw realizes he is roaring and sheepishly adds, "Um, Moar?"


And now, the time has come for Things Overheard During Your Training...


"Seven targets, laddie! Fire!" shouts the gnomish warrior beside Wolf. "Loose those arrows fast an' thin their numbers! Faster! The more of yuir enemies ye take down, the more the pain yuir savin' yer friends, dont'cha see? Now four more on yuir right! Loose-loose-loose-loose! Stop!" His cloudy-gray eyes fix hard onto Wolf's. "Three new targets are on yuir cleric an' they're BIG! Tell me now without'cher lookin' - exactly how many arrows have ye left?"





The dwarven fighter's voice booms across the field as he engages Powerpaw without breaking a sweat. "Look at that! You rely too much on your strength. Your tenseness and eagerness to strike is slowing you down. Remember - Less effort equals more power. Watch my technique." The dwarf pommel-strikes the armored training dummy hard in the chest, and immediately follows up with a full-bodied swing filled with sudden and incredible momentum. This swing is fast, vicious, and strikes with such force that his great axe sinks deep into the dummy on the first try. Then he loosens his axe and shows Powerpaw the technique over and over again. "For power shots, create an opening and strike with your whole body. Two inches past your target, every hit! Relax your muscles during the swing and tense only at the last moment. Give me a good shout upon impact. Now, your turn. But forget the dummy. Let's see how you fight a live opponent - Hit me!"


"See this rapier? Every time I sense your intent to cast, I will cut you. Move without showing your intent. No hesitation. Thus will you come to know the benefits of how to heal effortlessly."


"Good, good," says the gnome warrior to Bren. "Yuir a blocker an' guardian of friends fer sure with that approach. Remember ta let blows glance off ye. Never take 'em full on, laddie, but instead, deflect 'em, an' leave yuir opponent off-balance. The old sayin' is true - between masters, there's room fer only one mistake - and he who makes it becomes the loser. An'... why do I get the sudden notion ye've heard this all before?"


The thin old wizard has seen so many years that he can tuck his white beard into his belt. Blue eyes twinkling with intelligence regard Luna and Sparkle from behind gold-rimmed spectacles. He speaks as much with his hands a with his mouth, and you have no trouble understanding his body language. His words, however, are another story.


"Kaftan, you shay? Yesh! Your line cahsts such schpells ash to smash casthuls ashunder; elemental in pershunality ash well ash ability."


Sparkle turns to Luna with an expression to absolute befuddlement. The wizard continues.


"Fire and flames musht be your schpeciality, for your very aura schpeaks of heat and pashun! So make the besht of it! Take, for exshample your schpell, Forsh Mishuls."


Sparkle hesitantly raises a claw. "Pardon me, wise one. Which spell?"


"Forsh Mishuls!"





"I don't-"


"You know! The one like magic mishul, the firsht level schpell!"


"You mean Force Missiles?"





"Yesh, dammit! That's what I shaid!"


"And what about it, good sir?"


"Well, hash it ever occurred to you to apply your schplendid schpecialty of fire-making to Forsh Mishuls? Handy, yesh?"


"Holy moar," Powerpaw passes by. "I thought spoke funnies. Listen ta dis guy!"


The dwarven fighter grins and nudges Powerpaw. "Get a load of this. Hey, Schermitt!"


"Yesh?"


The three basic types of arcanists! My old brain cannot recall them all. Bard, Wizard, and.. what is the last one?"


'Schorsheror!"


"What?"


"Schorsheror!"





The dwarf holds his gut and laughs out loud. "What?!"


Schermitt schlams the nearby shelves. "Dagnabbit, you fool! I shaid SCHORSHEROR!!"


"BWAWAHAHAAHAA! I love this guy!"


Schermitt the Hermit folds his arms and grumbles. "Damn dwarf meshing with an old man! You hash no reshpect, I say-"


"No what?"


"No reshpe- Oh, go shoak your head in water..."


(And finally) "Yesh, I schould shay Shilver Dragons are shome of the schtrongest-hearted creatures ever to shoar Sharseya's blue schkies! Um. Young man? Why are you holding your palm over your fache like that?"
 
Luna had never contemplated trying her talent for fire magic with her Evocation-talent of Force Missiles before, but it seems so obvious now. She is glad to have run into these Trainers, and the talents and spells she has learned is worth every penny. It makes her look forward to trying out her new magics on future foes, once she has the time to memorize her spells once more. Someday, when she gets back home, she is certain that her father will be quite proud of her advancement in the mystic arts. Perhaps that will be enough to make up for his youngest daughter falling for a scruffy ranger named Wolf.


When she is finally finished with her time with her own trainer, she goes to find said scruffy ranger and have a long heart to heart talk with him. After her unexpected act of kissing him and telling him how she feels about him, they haven't had any chance to discuss what this mean for the two of them. Ah, that kiss. Her hand goes up to touch her lips where his lips were, not that long ago. As she thinks about it, Luna can feel her face growing flushed. Yes, she has it bad for him. I just hope that our relationship won't cause any trouble for the Wanderers.


 
In conclusion of target practice Wolf was reclaiming his arrows and frowning at the couple that managed to break. Perhaps it was too long since he seriously challenged his marksmanship skills, for his instructor's pace proved challenging. To be taught archery by a gnome, he thought to himself. Some neat tricks he had there, though...


He'd remember what he learned here well, especially with the task at hand. With the latest noble addition to the party he was no longer the only archer, but from what he'd seen during training he figured he was still the best. He was focused and ready. So focused in fact, that when he spun around with the intention of leaving the grounds with quick steps he nearly bumped into Luna who was approaching him. Luckily he managed to avoid that and turn it into a semi-graceful movement that brought him face to face with the sorceress.


"Luna." he says, with a surprised smile.
 
Luna smiles shyly. "Wolf. Um, I thought that . . . we should talk. After what happened earlier, I mean." She slips her arm in his and slowly guides him away. Walking in silence for a time, she suddenly stops. "Oh, hell with it. I had a long talk planned, but I think that this speaks for itself" She turns and kisses him again, a long, lingering kiss with much promise to it. Finally parting, she looks up at the ranger with a satisfied sigh. "Oh, my. I have a feeling that I'll be doing that a lot in the coming days. I hope you don't mind."
 
After allowing her to lead him away Wolf was contemplating something appropriate to say - just when she went and disrupted his every rational thought with a kiss that was every bit as otherworldly as the one earlier that day. He thought he felt the ground give way at one point, but it was surprisingly still there when she pulled back. He found himself taking both of her hands and intertwining their fingers. Then he said the first thing that came to mind: "Your hands are so warm."


Idiot. Of course they're warm! She's a fire mage, for Thelandira's sake!


"I... I mean..." Realizing he was making a fool of himself he added: "I don't mind. At all." And then he quickly pulled her back to him, kissing her patiently. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, all of her, while tasting the fire on her lips. He held her close, reluctant to ever let go.
 
Travis himself trains Bronze, one rogue to another. "On or off the battlefield, create opportunities. Don't wait there hoping your teammates or contacts will make them happen for you - get out there and make them happen. And speaking of making..." Travis leans in discreetly. "There's a lot a guy like you can do with your skills at crafting. Given proper training, you might make one hell of spy, collecting information for your team while making the tools they need to get the job done. And speaking of jobs..."


Travis pulls a small leather-bound notebook littered with page-markers and bound by a single silken thread with strange writing upon it. He flips through the pages quickly, pausing only once. Then he shows Bronze a list of things that need maintenance, cleaning, or repair. "The most-important of these is a certain wagon hitch that keeps slipping off. Since we'd like to keep our back-up food and supplies, we've decided that job comes first. I'll lend a hand where you need it without getting in your way."


"As you might imagine, my people and I have been around a lot of places. Still, we haven't seen anyone quite like your team just yet. Anything you want to ask us? Local trends? Popular skills and items? Adventuring in general or just travel? Once we pack up, we're gone, and we're taking our long years with us."
 
The mage's speech impediment started out humorous but, as he got into the subject of Silver Dragons and their links to sorcery, Otiorin's mind blanked out the hideous lisp and focussed on the words.


Silver Dragons are associated with the element of Cold, thus they become more resilient to attacks that employ Cold elemental effects. Of course, they share the draconic resilience of their species and their magics that employ Cold become more deadly....


He listened intently, his mind expanding even as his understanding of the draconic blood in his body increased. At the end of the discussion, he went away and focussed on that singular aspect of his body.


The Dragon Within.


It had been a part of him since he could remember. He still had vivid memories of running around on all fours as a young child, growling and hissing at people, the penchant for blue steak that persisted to the present and, of course, the silvery claws and fangs and the glowing eyes of his heritage. As he grasped at them, he felt the coolness of the evening air around him. It was getting chilly, the mountain air rapidly losing temperature as the sun waned in the sky, but yet, his skin was not touched by that coldness. He ran a hand over his flesh and, for the merest moment, thought he felt smooth scales, just under the surface of his own skin. A glance showed nothing of the sort, but it did reveal that the hairs on his arms were not standing up in the chill. He was entirely comfortable in the cold air. That realisation blasted something open in his mind and knowledge poured in. The cascade was almost too much to bear, but it ended as swiftly as it started. He knew things, new spells. He could feel them, nestled within his psyche. He could not put words to them, but he knew their effects instinctively. A spell to protect and a spell to draw something from beyond this realm. He smiled at the new revelation, Luna might be the magical powerhouse, but Otiorin had decided that his brand of magic would be more esoteric.
 
Bria looked down at her hands and gave a tired smile. Once again, she could cast so effortlessly as not to give an enemy the opportunity to freely attack her. Re-learning skills, she found, was a little more difficult than learning them the first time around. Yet once she had figured out why, things had gone much smoother. It was her preconceived notions that had gotten in the way. She had known the skill in question, so shouldn't learning it again be easier? The answer was no. Instead, her mind should be as open as a flower in spring and as light as a cloud in the sky.


It had been a stressful week for her. Losing Powerpaw. Finding his trail. Regaining his company. Joining the Wanderers. The constant struggle for life and death - so many times tested in just two days! - she felt her spirit was as weathered as a rock against a ceaseless sea. She had kept this as hidden as best she could, of course. It was the Ko way to conceal all that needed to be concealed while still showing freely all that needed to be shown.


She leaned against a nearby pine tree waiting for the order to move out. These girls, whomever they were, needed rescuing according to Skaagenrackner and Vardadraug, and that meant another adventure in the forest. But this one, she suspected, would be without Kitrin, and with Bren. That was all right by her. If Kitrin somehow had her own path with her own people, then who was to try and stop her? Not that she envied anyone who would make the attempt - seeing Kitrin in action made the healer firmly believe that such a person would certainly need Bria's attention sooner rather than later.


She looked around the checkpoint. The wagons, the people talking and training together - the old and the wise ever-ready to teach the young and energetic. It was a natural cycle she enjoyed. Bria took in a deep breath of the welcome fresh air. Soon Luna would give the- wait. Where was Luna? Certainly not training, for Otiorin seemed to be deep in thought while the old man - was Schermitt his name? - bent over an older-looking tome. And... where was Wolf?


Oh, she smiled again. Where else would they be? Together, she imagined. Especially seeing how Sparkle and Pecker seemed to be chatting on top of one wagon while His Puppiness, Vardadraug, was ferociously wrestling with a stick in the grass. Bria hoped they were having special moments together. Such things had to be taken when they could. She hoped they were right for one another.


Bren was here now and that made things better too. His arrival was such a pleasant surprise! She didn't know him deeply, yet she knew him well. This was Kikko's brother and he was as solid in spirit as she was. That was saying something.


Still, and perhaps it was Bria's spiritual fatigue talking, she worried a bit about Luna. Would she embrace the same hotheadedness in this adventure as she displayed against the minotaurs? Bria had felt horrible leaving Wolf behind to face one of those evil brutes in a melee while she raced after their leader. Sure, Luna was quite intelligent, but their last fight was won in part due to great fortune, not strategy or careful thinking. Bria didn't want to chase after her again, but she knew she would if it came down to it. The alternative was Luna's luck might run out. What would that do to Wolf? To Sparkle? To everyone? Still, whatever Luna and Powerpaw had talked about had put him at ease - which was a very good thing. Powerpaw and the mischievous old dwarven fellow were still practicing together. She would ask him later; perhaps the big fuzzy goof had learned something about Luna that would be of comfort.


She hoped so. She hoped all of the Wanderers were ready to learn about each other. For here they were, freshly-trained, but low on some of their best magical spells with no time to memorize them. Bria softly steeled herself again. She would have to be ready again - for the sake of those endangered girls. It was the way of every Ko.


Her short meditation ended, Bria sought out Bren. She wasn't certain why; her inner fatigue had stolen the reason from memory. But when she found him, she called upon the wisdom inside of her and it told her to bring Bren up to speed, starting with her search for Powerpaw. From there, Grimdell's Guardians, Bilal the Rich, their capture, their escape, and all that had ensued since then. Quite a lot!


"Bren?" she waves, willing up as much enthusiasm as she can. "Since you are joining the Wanderers, it's probably best if you know all that has been going on. May I enlighten you?" If he agreed, she would tell him just about everything.
 
Bren smiles as Bria approaches. A sweet girl, from the moment he saw her working as cook in the Adventurers' Guild in Highwind; if his heart hadn't already belonged to another, he might have sought her company for more than just adventuring. As things stood, he was simply happy to once again be in the same party with the young monk.


"Yes, certainly! Enlightenment is a good thing." He winks to show that the play on words (here is a monk, offering enlightenment!) is intentional. He glances around, noting the position and occupation of the other party members. "We seem to have some few minutes. What would you tell me?" He listens intently, facial expressions and body language reflecting concern, satisfaction, and wonder, at various points of the story. Bren is not good at hiding what he thinks, and anyone watching will probably notice this.


After Bria describes the party's escape from Bilal and the subsequent starfall, he does indeed look rather enlightened. "I'd wondered what that was... Ah! Do you know, I think I may have your horses - a few of them, at least. I came across them near the new crater on my way north, and rounded them up to take along, not seeing any better options. They're too good to leave wandering the forest alone. I left them tied behind yon wagon there, where I expect my own Star is keeping them company."


He looks grave as Bria tells of the party's most recent fight, but simply nods as she comes to the end of her tale. "You have had interesting adventures indeed! Thank you for telling me. Is there anything I may tell you, in return? I admit the past few days have been much more boring on my side of things."
 
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