The Shattered Soul

[Silanon]

Part 1 of 2 - a few discoveries in your separate rooms; best to read it all, some of them are not character-specific.


Living at the manor for a while, Aysik knows two things: Firstly, coffee is a thing - imported from other continents, its invigorating qualities have found Lord Jordenin's approval - he likes to read whenever the mood strikes him, after all, and that includes moments when he probably should be asleep. Secondly, however - it is a rarity. Given that it's pretty uncommon, it's also expensive. Thus, it's not available unless Jordenin gives the order himself - usually when he fancies some himself and gives instructions to make more for his guests and employees.

When Dreamy decides to write down the happenings, she realizes one thing that the others will also notice over time: Your memories from the fog do not seem to fade away as easily as those of dreams. As Dreamy writes down her notes, she has no trouble recalling all of the details.

Everyone who decided to put on their boots will inevitably notice that they're covered in mud - some of it the reddish kind that some discovered in the fog, but most of it simply the local, darker kind - it is dried up, though. No sign of the violet mass there, and it does not seem as if you have left any tracks at all - the floor is clean. Still, when Amber looks at her trousers - there is indeed that violet residue on it, and it shows no sign of drying up anytime soon. In fact, it looks pretty much like when she saw it in the fog - only that its coloration seems even more out of place, now that she sees it in a familiar environment.

 

[Silanon]

Part 2 of 2 - common area of the guest house.

All of your room doors lead to the common area - as you glimpse around, everything here seems to be in place. The big fireplace - cold, but still with the ash from last night. Several tables, chairs and the like. A few different board games. There's a shelf with some of the less valuable books, an assortment that covers most of the common topics of interest - the kind where everyone will find a book to pass some time, but no answers to any major questions. Rodrik adjusts the material every now and then, switching out a few books in favor of others; one of his duties.

Apart from your doors, only one other is open - Old Raulyn's room, though there is no sign of the dwarf. But the point of interest is certainly the entry - where everyone can witness how Dreamy unlocks the door, and pulls it open for a familiar sight: Merione. At first glance, she looks like an elderly woman - her hair turned grey early, and years of playful bickering with her husband have left plenty of wrinkles behind already. She's in good shape, however - fit enough to have given birth just months ago - and she's tough, hardened by years of dutiful servitude. She's very much the mind of the household where Lord Jordenin's direct intervention is not required - and thus, she is used to get her way eventually.

Like now, when her knocking is finally answered by Dreamy. "Beg your pardon, miss. Thomas." A rare smile shows on her lips, but vanishes quickly. "There was a bird, just now. The Lord asked us to wake you up, that he'd need you. And Iris lazes about, and she's got the keys, so all I could do was to knock and hope that someone's awake." She nods, now that that's taken care of. "If you could make sure everyone's awake and ready? The Lord will be out in a couple of minutes. Said he'd take the coach." Indeed, you see the wooden transport out in the courtyard already - with two horses to pull it already in place. Merione's man, Graham, is busy leading two more out of the stables, where Old Raulyn sits in the saddle of a third while Yanna, the Lord's elven bodyguard, quietly holds the reins. You notice that those two are clothed in their armor; a rare sight for the old dwarf, these days. Dreamy and Thomas, being close to the door, can also spot Tillie leaning next to the main house's entry, with a bird sitting on her arm that looks like a younger eagle; definitely not on of Jordenin's messenger birds, but it seems like Tillie still gets along with it just fine. No surprise, really - the girl is gifted where animals are concerned.

Not expecting 'no' for an answer, Merione turns to leave; "Iris", she shouts in the vague direction of the house, "get your lazy bum outta here!" There's no answer, but plenty of time to address her, if you so wish.

What would everyone like to do?

 

[Purr]

"What I'm sure the good Paladin meant was 'Well met and what great worry brings you to our door at so early an hour?'." he asked, shooting her a kind smile, as he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his habit.

"Yes! That's exactly what I meant to say!" Dreamy immediately agrees with the biggest smile she can give to Miss Merione. She reaches over and gives Thomas's arm an affectionate squeeze. Out of the side of her mouth, she tells him rapidly and softly, "Thank yooou! You are always such a sweetie!"

"Beg your pardon, miss. Thomas." A rare smile shows on her lips, but vanishes quickly. "There was a bird, just now.

"Bird?"

Dreamy's mind immediately slips back into two places. The first? Her dream.

Spoiler: Her dream

"The Message"
The memory of the winged lion-like creature on the pillar made of rock fills her mind's eye.

"Not too bad, for one of her lackeys. Some of you might be worthy after all." The eye closes, but the silence remains. "But not yet. He walked all paths. You barely begin to understand your side of the coin." Her paw waves, almost dismissively. "Leave. This is not your path to follow. Don't try me."

The second? Tillie's bird-house.

Spoiler: Tillie's bird-house

"Birbs"

The birb rapidly chirps at Dreamy while excitedly stepping side to side. When the birb is finished, Dreamy gasps in mock-shock, taking a step backward with her hands high and fingers wide.

"Miss Tillie!" Dreamy stands in mock-outrage beside the birb so they can both face her. "Did you hear what she said? Why, it's the craziest thing I have heard all week!"

Dreamy places her fists on her hips and with her head bouncing from side to side, she chirps and talks to Miss Tillie, mimicking the birb as if she and Dreamy had shared an actual conversation.

"And then she said!" Dreamy, with her naturally versatile opera-trained voice slips into a decent impression of a rapidly-chirping birb. "So then I said!" The chirping and head bobbing and her blonde hair bouncing back and forth continues as she begins to relay this imaginary conversation to Miss Tillie.

"Isn't that right?" She turns to the birb. The birb senses her moment and tweets excitedly. Dreamy turns back to Miss Tillie and points at the birb with a confident nod.

"See? You heard it yourself! Right here! This is going to turn the whole manor upside-down! Why, I have never heard such a thing in all my life! Just wait until Lord Jordenin hears about this!"

Then, unable to continue this facade any longer, she bursts into bright laughter.

"Focus, Dreamy, focus!" The Paladin whispers to herself and makes a briefly pained face.

"If you could make sure everyone's awake and ready? The Lord will be out in a couple of minutes. Said he'd take the coach."

"Yes ma'am! We'll do that!" Dreamy again gives her best smile in reply. It is not that she's trying to speak for everyone in their company; Dreamy simply doesn't want anyone here to get in trouble with Miss Merione.

Her gaze falls on Tillie and her bird. Birds were an incredible rarity in the depths of the Twilight Reaches, the grand undersea city where she called home. She really enjoyed time with Tillie and her birds. But... Lord Jordenin was rising at this hour for some message this birb, er bird, had delivered?

Just what was in this message that got everyone up at this hour?

Wanting to know if everyone else is awake and hearing this, Dreamy looks around her in the common room and does a head-count. She gives a busy-and-confused-looking smile and wave to Rodrik, Amber, and Fijit. Aysik too gets a smile and wave until Dreamy notices he's wearing his scale mail armor before dawn.

"Aysiiik," she slumps and gives him a mildly-concerned look. "You didn't... sleep in that, did you? You know it is possible to take this whole warrior life a little too--" then she's reminded of what she's supposed to be doing. "Wait," she verbally retreats. "Scratch that. I totally take it all back, Aysik! We were just told to Armor Up and you're the only one who's ready!"

Then she notices his boots.

His mud-encrusted boots.

The rest of his armor looked great, especially with him in it, but ... his boots look an awful lot like.... her own boots upstairs (except her scale mail armor is prettier and kind of fish-like scaly and not quite in the great military-kept condition his is in; she reminded herself to ask him how he did that sometime).

Then her delicate gaze slowly drifts towards Thomas in his clerical vestments beloved to Pharasma's star-wise people. Slowly, her bright blue eyes gaze down at his footwear too. They hold there, staring.

"Heyyy..."

Trying to shrug off a wave of fatigue, Dreamy points cautiously to everyone who is wearing boots.

"Uhm, did... everyone sleep okay... last night?"

 

[Psychie]

Amber shakes her head, her thoughts still on the mud or whatever it is on her clothes and boots. "No, not exactly. I had something . . . strange. Happen to me. I thought it was just a dream, but it seems that it was real somehow. Dreams don't leave muddy marks on your clothes, do they?"

 

[Sherwood]

Aysik looks over at Amber with a raised eyebrow. "You, too? I thought it was a dream, but there is still mud on my boots from whatever it was that happened. Some thick mist blocking all sight, and I was in the middle of it. Very strange. And now, I feel as weak as a newborn kitten and as exhausted as if I spent the whole night awake. Did the same happen to all of you, too?"

 

[Purr]

"Why, yes! Complete with the winged cat-creature that spoke in my head and me trying to sing my way out of a fog. Sweet dreamers," she whispers in prayer to Desna without realizing her thought has been given voice.

She too looks to everyone else for answers as she slowly makes her way to her room. Dreamy leaves the door open and listens while completing getting dressed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Just what is going on?"

 

[jaydude]

Everyone who decided to put on their boots will inevitably notice that they're covered in mud - some of it the reddish kind that some discovered in the fog, but most of it simply the local, darker kind - it is dried up, though. No sign of the violet mass there, and it does not seem as if you have left any tracks at all - the floor is clean. Still, when Amber looks at her trousers - there is indeed that violet residue on it, and it shows no sign of drying up anytime soon. In fact, it looks pretty much like when she saw it in the fog - only that its coloration seems even more out of place, now that she sees it in a familiar environment.

"I'm pretty sure that my boots weren't that muddy when I got back here..." Rodrik muttered to himself.

Wanting to know if everyone else is awake and hearing this, Dreamy looks around her in the common room and does a head-count. She gives a busy-and-confused-looking smile and wave to Rodrik, Amber, and Fijit. Aysik too gets a smile and wave until Dreamy notices he's wearing his scale mail armor before dawn.

Rodrik grinned and raised a hand in reply.

Aysik looks over at Amber with a raised eyebrow. "You, too? I thought it was a dream, but there is still mud on my boots from whatever it was that happened. Some thick mist blocking all sight, and I was in the middle of it. Very strange. And now, I feel as weak as a newborn kitten and as exhausted as if I spent the whole night awake. Did the same happen to all of you, too?"

"Most of that, if not all of it." answered Rodrik. "But what the heck could have caused such a thing? Because I'm pretty sure that none of you had access to the combination of herbs and incense I used back in Bosphet."

It had been an event from his time in the Free Cities, before he came to Westport. He'd partaken with an old group of travelling companions for research purposes, but also admittedly for the fun of it. The conversation with the surprisingly personable blood god alone had made it more than worth his while.

Remembering the instructions Dreamy had just relayed to them, he'd follow up by closing the door and getting his leathers on, before emerging a couple of minutes later.

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Thomas’ smile appeared on his lips at the sight of Merione and grew broader at her use of his name. Most of the townsfolk addresses him as ‘Brother’ or ‘Brother Thomas’, but Merione was above such things as titles. But her words were enough to wipe the smile from his face.
"We shall attend anon, thank you for coming to rouse us.", he replied, turning back to head to his room to properly attire himself.
He had noticed the distinctly martial air that pervaded the courtyard outside and, once seeing his other housemates, noted that their modes of dress varied from Dreamy's barely dressed to Asyik's fully attired for war. He walked to his room and halted at the door to hear Dreamy's words regarding last night's 'sleep'. It shocked him to hear that he was not alone in his bizarre dream and spoke up.
"I, too, had a strange dream, one that lingers still in my memory as fresh as my duties from yesterday. That our boots all seem soiled by the same mud would indicate that it was no simple dream, but some sort of alternate realm. One in which our actions persist into this realm. We should all share our experiences in greater detail, but later. No doubt his lordship will be awaiting us and, I hope, will inform us as to what is occurring."
So saying, he entered his room and picked up his boots. He set them on his table and scraped as much of the mud from them as he could into his washbowl. Later, he could see if the mud was similar to anything around Roots. He dressed in his travelling attire, donned his armour and collected his weapons before joining the others.

 

[Kaerri]

Fijit inspected her boots curiously. Not a vision, then. Or at least, not entirely. How odd. And odder, it had been a shared vision, in some way, since the others were talking about it. "Me too," she called through her open door as she laced up her boots. "Definitely should compare notes. Dreamy was in mine, or at least I heard her singing." She checked her gear and loaded it up, then paused. Picking up one of the files from her room's small lab, she collected mud from her boots into two spare phials, one of which she left in the lab with the file for later study, the other going into her pocket for sooner study. Not immediate, unfortunately, not if they had horses and all already waiting. "I dunno," she told Rodrick with a grin as she closed her bedroom door. "I've inhaled a lot of odd things over the years. Maybe not that particular combination but definitely some with real interesting results. I don't suppose you happen to have the formula for it?" Her tone is light enough that Rodrick can take the question as a joke, but if he happens to know -- and happens to be in a sharing mood -- she won't turn it down.

 

[Purr]

"I, too, had a strange dream, one that lingers still in my memory as fresh as my duties from yesterday. That our boots all seem soiled by the same mud would indicate that it was no simple dream, but some sort of alternate realm. One in which our actions persist into this realm. We should all share our experiences in greater detail, but later. No doubt his lordship will be awaiting us and, I hope, will inform us as to what is occurring."

"Most of that, if not all of it." answered Rodrik.

"Me too," she called through her open door as she laced up her boots. "Definitely should compare notes. Dreamy was in mine, or at least I heard her singing."

Dreamy is glad she has kept her door open. As she hears her fellows, she cannot help but stammer in complete confusion. "You did-- And you-- Fijit, you heard me-- Oh, this is just too wild!" Dreamy closes her eyes, holds her temples between her fingers, and slowly shakes her head.

But then her eyes open and she looks to her boots. And there it is on them. Red mud. Plain as day. It had happened. But by Desna's own dreams, what had happened?

"But what the heck could have caused such a thing? Because I'm pretty sure that none of you had access to the combination of herbs and incense I used back in Bosphet."

"I've inhaled a lot of odd things over the years. Maybe not that particular combination but definitely some with real interesting results. I don't suppose you happen to have the formula for it?" Her tone is light enough that Rodrick can take the question as a joke, but if he happens to know -- and happens to be in a sharing mood -- she won't turn it down.

To her dwarven companion's mention of herbs and incense, she calls out. "Rodrik? Fijit? You two sound just like my mom and dad! They're 'herbalists' too and quite proud of it!"

Dreamy turns back to readying herself. She is careful, her door being open, but she doesn't want to miss anything in what might be a critical moment. Yet... her past came a'calling then too. She felt herself preparing as if for another performance. Though it was her scale mail armor she was donning and not one of her mother's vibrant and delightful dresses she had worn on stage, she was still preparing. It was a ritual of sorts though it was born of a previous life.

Dreamy settles her own mind down, breathing deeply and sounding out her vocal scales - for she was convinced she was about to miss her daily morning practice - and as she fastens a belt sheath here and quickly brushes back her hair and binds it up into a very fancy ponytail, her mind remains on Undersea stages past. As if she were preparing for another performance. But she knew there was no show and that was all right. Old habits, especially those one is born into, sometimes stay with you for your entire life, like reliable old friends ready to be called upon at a moment's notice.

If she took an additional moment or two to prepare herself right, she hoped no one noticed. Her mind drifts back. Decades back. For time means something different to those of elfish heritage. It runs differently, like a stream in a long valley, while nearly everyone else's streams rush along quickly as if running down mountainsides. Streams didn't even exist where Dreamy was from. For what was a stream when your entire sapphire world was made up of seemingly-endless water?

Spoiler: Tidbits

Dreamy recalls bits of her childhood.
(OOC: I just wrote this for fun. It's not important to what she's doing in terms of gameplay - it's just something I dreamed up and thought I'd share here with you.)

Dreamy remembered the first time she'd even heard about the World Above. It was during a sea-safari along with her parents, the Sage Samarooya the Clear-Minded, and her parent's pride of sea lions. Oh, and of course, about half a dozen of her siblings in her huge familiy. Even as a half-elven child, Dreamy felt it was quite nice to be part of it most of the time!

"What is that?" the fifteen-year-old child named Aerdreamifafalierie asked as she peered through the water and pointed at the resting hulk lying at the bottom like the skeleton of some giant, ancient mariner long departed.

"That," her mother replied, "is a ship!"

"What's a ship?"

"It is a vessel, often made of wood, that sails across the top of our world."

"'Sails?'"

"Aye! The wind pushes that big fabric and fills it. The rudder in the back, that's the tail-looking piece, guides it along so the people atop the ship can go where they will. See those wooden poles with the big ends? They have to pull on those if the wind isn't moving."

Dreamy scratched the back of her head while her hair, then the color of bluecheek butterfly fish, drifted and flowed all around her small head. She couldn't help but ask, simply because she didn't know and wanted to. "What's wind?"

Dreamy's father took over. "Harken and see, Aerdreamifafalierie," he sang as much as said her name, for he and his lady had wanted names that could be used as named and also sung as songs or used in poems. "Wind... is air... that moves across the Surface World. The wind pushes the clouds along. The same element you breathe in and sing with is the same element that can move a big wooden boat like that along."

"So.... you can sing a ship along?"

"With magic, I don't see why not."

"I bet you can! That ship isn't so big!" Dreamy could not fathom most of this. Still, her mind yearned for answers. "Is there really a 'top of our world?'"

Her mother responded. "Yes, there is. I know because that is where I came from."

"Well, is there a world on top of that?"

Her mother wondered for a moment. "Perhaps. If there is, it is high above the clouds your father mentioned - those big nebulous shapes that move across the sky under the sun and moon. The stars too. If there is a world above the clouds, no one I know has ever been there." She gave Dreamy a hug. "Maybe you'll be the first?"

"'Stars?' I bet that's where dreams come from!"

"Stars certainly inspire dreams."

"Do they? Then I want to see stars!" Dreamy the child had replied, but her parents just looked at each other and shared that smile of theirs. Then they looked at their most-inquisitive of daughters and just kept smiling. Dreamy's face scrunched up into a frown and her little fists balled up tight. Even at that little age, she knew that was their way of saying, "You'll have to wait until you're older."

How Dreamy just steamed when she had to wait for great things like that!

* * *​

It was twice her lifetime later. For her thirtieth birthday, her parents and kin had finally come to the top of their world. They had visited an island. That was where the mountains in the sea were so tall, even the oceans did not wet them. You could see as far as you wanted to. The endless blue of sky was quite a bit different than the endless blue that Dreamy was used to living under the ocean.

Dreamy could not believe her shielded eyes. "It's so bright up here! And you can see so very far! So that's what clouds look like! Oh wow!"

Samarooya the Sage kept Dreamy in the shade under the tall green trees. No outsiders were about; everyone had made sure of that. "You ought to see it when the sun is higher. This is dusk, when the sun goes to sleep and takes the daylight with it. It is much brighter when the sun is fully awake!"

"That big ball of orange? So that's the sun!"

"It is. But do be careful!" Samarooya stepped in between Dreamy and the sun blocking her view of it. "Look at it too long and you could damage your eyes. Maybe forever!"

"Yow!" Instantly trusting Samarooya, Dreamy covered her eyes with her hands. She didn't want to harm her sight!

"It is all right as long as you do not look directly at it. But it will take... practice."

Dreamy nodded. Practice was a word young Dreamy was by now all too familiar with. It is how one became skilled at nearly anything. It was how students became minstrels and mages became wizards and how everyone improved themselves. It took work, of course. But even if someone lacked talent entirely, they could usually get somewhere without it. But only with practice.

"This... sun... leaves for awhile then comes back later? Every day?"

"Every day. It is how the Surface Folk tell time."

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard! What if it's late? Has it ever overslept?"

Samarooya had to chuckle at that. "Not in my lifetime."

"Oh." Then the sage turned and Dreamy noticed strange marks on the blue skin of Samarooya's shoulders and back. Lines. Even lines, but the sage was not born with them. Of this, youthful Dreamy was certain.

"Wise One?" Dreamy asked. "Why are there lines on your body when there weren't any before?"

"Oh," it was Samarooya's turn to say in an embarrassed tone.

Dreamy reached to touch them, but the sage's hand lifted quickly. "Don't touch!" Dreamy halted and looked confused. "Those are called 'tan lines.'" The sage explained without hurry. "The sun is an old fire hanging above all we know. Sit under it too long where it is strong and it will burn your skin. About half the time that makes up every day, that heavenly fireball warms and brightens the Surface World. We in Twilight Reaches live far, far too deep for the sun's warmth and light to reach which is why we find our own. But..." the sage displayed the mild burns and cautioned, "...one should still remember - don't let the sun's warmth lull you to napping while the sun can still see you or you will wind up like me!

The sage's hand lifted and touched the hard body of the tree they were under. "Best to rest under this shadow which many Surface Worlders call 'shade.' Knowing when to use shade and when not to takes..." The sage paused pointedly, waiting for Dreamy to finish the sentence.

"...practice?'"

"Yes, indeed!"

"But your bond with Desna," Dreamy referred to the dreaming Goddess of the Stars. "Can't you perform your magic words and movements and she'll heal the burns for you?"

"Yes. Nothing prevents me from asking this of Her," the sage confessed, "except... some injuries are worth keeping until they naturally heal - especially if they serve to remind you not to repeat your mistake!" The sage laughed merrily and Dreamy had to laugh too for wisdom and merriment were ever the dearest of friends. "Whatever keeps the lesson inside you most painlessly is best. I suppose I could just act like a Surface Worlder and simply wear lots of clothing to block the sun's light from me."

"Surface Worlders." Dreamy looked up at the tree trunk and caressed it with her fingers. It felt rough and tough and so utterly dry. "Yeah. I've thought about them. Mom says that many Surface Worlders like her wear metal armor for protection. Can you imagine that? Metal! But I don't see why. Why would they burden themselves with all that heavy weight to pull them down?"

"Because, dear girl! To them, this is down!" The sage laughed again and Samarooya's foot stamped the sand under it. Then he looked across the quiet island. "Now. You feel the breeze moving against your skin, don't you?"

"The wind," Dreamy embraced the sensation and nodded. "I like it!"

"Yes! Good! The wind, Aerdreamifafalierie! In some realms, it can get much colder on the Surface World, especially when the sun falls to sleep. It can also be just as lightless and full of mystery as any place in all the Undersea. And that is why your mother's people sometimes wear a great deal more clothing than your father's!"

"Well..." Dreamy said, "if I'm not wearing any clothing, I won't get those 'tan lines,' right? So I just won't wear any more than I have to!"

"And then, depending on the conditions, most of your whole body might get sunburned even worse than mine! Or get too cold! Then you could become ill, perhaps seriously. When it comes to clothing, weather, and your body, there is only one way to know for certain, isn't there?"

This time, Dreamy smiled for she felt she knew the answer and when Samarooya the Sage laughed, Dreamy knew she was correct. "Yep! Practice!"

When Dreamy is done, she looks splendid despite the early hour. For she had been taught by her parents and their friends that images held power, be they that of a singer on a stage or an adventurer about to go out to right some wrong. With her shield, Moonwise, upon her arm and her weapons, Shimmer and Diamond, close at hand, Dreamy steps out.

But she does not put on her muddy boots. Before she dons them, she desires to show to Lord Jordenin or his staff to find out just where these boots had been!

 

[Kaerri]

To her dwarven companion's mention of herbs and incense, she calls out. "Rodrik? Fijit? You two sound just like my mom and dad! They're 'herbalists' too and quite proud of it!"

"I'm not an herbalist," Fijit replies with a slight edge, "I'm an alchemist." Ordinarily the mistake wouldn't bother her at all; though she would in any case correct the misconception, right now she is too tired to make a joke of it. Then she wonders if she's remembered all her reagents and components, and dashes back into her room to check. She had, in fact, forgotten some of her bomb chemicals, and takes a moment to look around and make sure there isn't something else she's forgotten, grumbling under her breath in Gnomish.

 

[Purr]

"I'm not an herbalist," Fijit replies with a slight edge, "I'm an alchemist."

Dreamy offers Fijit what she hopes is a polite adjustment. "'Herbalists' are what we in the Twilight Reaches call those who enjoy the more dreamlike qualities of... certain herbs and plants out of their funny water bongs and colorful pipes. It's quite possible to be an 'herbalist' and something else! My parents and their whole band sure are."

She looks back one more time in the direction of her still-warm her bed wishing she could just toss herself onto it but her feet keep her just outside the front door.

 

[Sherwood]

Aysik lets out a deep sigh. "Well, lets go and try to stay awake while we find out why we've been summoned. Perhaps it will provide some answers for us as to what in the bloody hell happened to all of us!"

 

[jaydude]

"I've inhaled a lot of odd things over the years. Maybe not that particular combination but definitely some with real interesting results. I don't suppose you happen to have the formula for it?" Her tone is light enough that Rodrick can take the question as a joke, but if he happens to know -- and happens to be in a sharing mood -- she won't turn it down.

"I don't remember the exact combination off the top of my head. It was a long time in the past. I know that there was cactus juice, moon sugar leaves and hashish involved though."

Spoiler: OOC

Yeah, in the end I couldn't think of much.

"'Herbalists' are what we in the Twilight Reaches call those who enjoy the more dreamlike qualities of... certain herbs and plants out of that are funny water bongs and colorful pipes. It's quite possible to be an 'herbalist' and something else! My parents and their whole band sure are."

"Heh. If that definition applied to my own parents, I might never have left them." Rodrik commented.

Aysik lets out a deep sigh. "Well, lets go and try to stay awake while we find out why we've been summoned. Perhaps it will provide some answers for us as to what in the bloody hell happened to all of us!"

Rodrik shrugged, his crossbow on his back as he looked over at the muscled warrior. "Well, I'm ready as I'll ever be."

 

[Psychie]

Amber rubs at her drooping eyes and nods in agreement. "Me, too. Lets go do this."

 

[Silanon]

He set them on his table and scraped as much of the mud from them as he could into his washbowl.

Picking up one of the files from her room's small lab, she collected mud from her boots into two spare phials, one of which she left in the lab with the file for later study, the other going into her pocket for sooner study.

Neither of you have any trouble getting this done . You reckon that it might take a while to actually clean the boots, but getting enough mud off of them to get a sample is not too hard - it is dried up, after all.

While you prepare, those outside do not stay idle - accompanied by Graham's grunting and bickering, the two horses are brought over to Old Raulyn. Given how the old dwarf ties their reins to his own saddle, it seems like he plans to lead them elsewhere - though he hesitates as the first of you leaves the house. You can hear how Graham asks him a question - the precise wording eludes you - but Raulyn does not seem to show the slightest reaction. By now, you're used to him spacing out every now and then, lost in old memories - it seems that the unusual situation does not change that. Graham simply shrugs, and moves to go about his business - seemingly in the stables - when the door to the actual manor opens.

You're treated to the familiar sight of Lord Jordenin; and it does not take more than a glance to see that he's having one of his bad days. As he limps down the few stairs in front of the entrance, his weight seems to get carried almost solely by his trusty cane on one side and Iris on the other; every few steps, he pauses to catch his breath, leaning against the younger maid. Iris herself seems to carry two thick wool blankets as well, and mumbles words of encouragement every now and then. Yanna hurries over, but the Lord seems intent to reach the carriage before acknowledging her presence. Still, the elf - in her usual, wordless way - waves you over.

Others react as well. You see Tillie hesitantly walk towards the Lord, but keeping her distance; perhaps to keep the eagle calm, or for another reason. Somehow, she seems a little lost in the place she's called home since her birth. While Graham has vanished back in the stables, his wife Merione reappears from the Mansion (the kitchen area, to be precise), hauling a too-heavy cauldron and a number of mugs. Lastly, Old Raulyn turns his horse - and wordlessly rides towards the six of you, stopping halfway - his half-closed eyes seem to muster you one by one, but he does not say a word.

What would you like to do?

 

[Purr]

Dreamy hadn't ever met anyone who acted quite like Old Raulyn. Sure, her parents and their band had tripped hard enough to seemingly become one with the cosmos for hours at a time. Dreamy never had lit up so deeply with such fires; just being in the same room with that much of it in the air was enough to take her mind strange and interesting places. But to stay there day in and day out? That way was neither her family's nor hers, but it seemed like Old Raulyn here had it down to a fine art. And all without the slightest hint of vegetation or alcohol! Dreamy didn't know which plane of existence the well-traveled dwarf's mind lived on, so she preferred to leave him in peace.

As she steps toward Lord Jordenin, her mind, ever carried along by thoughts and memories of music, throws the sound of a cheery beat and riff through her. Liking it, Dreamy lets the internal tunes continue to echo inside of her and brighten her mood. Perhaps it's a little gift from Desna? Who can say?

Spoiler: Cheery riff

In truth, it reminds her of home!
"Hibou - Above Us"

Dreamy can't help but wince a moment when she first notices "Lordy Jordy" taking painful steps. It was moments like these that she earnestly wished he could visit Twilight Reaches, for their aches and pains were of different natures in her beloved undersea realm. Very few moved about in such pain as he did now. Still, Dreamy had enough of a mind to realize that if he was trying not to make a fuss about it, then he didn't want to be fussed over at all. Even by Yanna. Dreamy sent up a silent prayer to Desna, the goddess of travel, to ease his suffering and to use Dreamy to make it happen if it were Her will.

Seeing Tillie and her new bird gives reason for Aerdreamifafalierie to grin a little. Birds were neat creatures! Nothing under the waves sounded quite like them! Tillie's hesitance doesn't alter Dreamy's steps. She casually strides up to Lord Jordenin (unless Old Raulyn comes out of his mind-mist) and, drawing no attention whatsoever to Lord Jordenin's injury, she curtsies and smiles as best as her fatigue will allow. She really wants to ask him about his injury, but now? In public? Now is not the time at all.

Trying to stifle a yawn and failing, Dreamy covers her mouth and when her body allows, she addresses Lord Jordenin as if there was nothing at all amiss about the early hour, his request for their armed presence, and a shared dream that clings to Dreamy's mind more thickly than any bong smoke she had ever seen inhaled. Glancing at her boots, she decides to ask him about the mud when things are more convenient. His needs came first.

"A bird on Tillie's arm I've never seen before, an hour that I'm rarely up for, and a request for action! Now that's the life of an adventurer! Good morning, your lordship! What brings you to call on us, good sir?" Dreamy can't help but peek over her shoulder and give a happy wink to Thomas. The ever-thoughtful priest had saved her from potential embarrassment moments before when they had answered the door. And now? Now, even with the heavy cloak of fatigue on her shoulders and the memory of the chill fog in the dream, Dreamy felt she was as prepared as she could be to take on the day!

 

[Sherwood]

Aysik offers up a deep bow to Lord Jordenin, still feeling wobbly on his feet, but proper respect must still be shown. "M'Lord, I am at your service."

 

[Psychie]

Amber takes a moment to look over at the man she sees as a father figure and hopes that all is well with Lord Jordenin. She echoes Aysik's comment by saying, "Your will, sir, is my command."

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Following in the wake of his comrades, Thomas regards their patron's current incapacity with pure compassion. Were he a more dedicated healer, he might have been able to concoct some form of poltice or unguent that would work to deaden the nobleman's agues without dulling his sharp wits and humor. Alas, his strengths were set in other directions, though his ready mind was ever-willing to ponder what medicines or herbs could be used for Lord Jordenin's discomfort. Putting these thoughts aside for a time, he joined his companions in greeting their host, though Dreamy's cheery wink set him aback momentarily.
"Well met, my lord. While I can see your old incapacity has chosen this inopportune time to visit you, I trust you are well in all other aspects. My companions and I stand ready to help and assist you in whatever way we are needed."

 

[jaydude]

You're treated to the familiar sight of Lord Jordenin; and it does not take more than a glance to see that he's having one of his bad days. As he limps down the few stairs in front of the entrance, his weight seems to get carried almost solely by his trusty cane on one side and Iris on the other; every few steps, he pauses to catch his breath, leaning against the younger maid. Iris herself seems to carry two thick wool blankets as well, and mumbles words of encouragement every now and then. Yanna hurries over, but the Lord seems intent to reach the carriage before acknowledging her presence. Still, the elf - in her usual, wordless way - waves you over.

Others react as well. You see Tillie hesitantly walk towards the Lord, but keeping her distance; perhaps to keep the eagle calm, or for another reason. Somehow, she seems a little lost in the place she's called home since her birth. While Graham has vanished back in the stables, his wife Merione reappears from the Mansion (the kitchen area, to be precise), hauling a too-heavy cauldron and a number of mugs. Lastly, Old Raulyn turns his horse - and wordlessly rides towards the six of you, stopping halfway - his half-closed eyes seem to muster you one by one, but he does not say a word.

Dreamy hadn't ever met anyone who acted quite like Old Raulyn. Sure, her parents and their band had tripped hard enough to seemingly become one with the cosmos for hours at a time. Dreamy never had lit up so deeply with such fires; just being in the same room with that much of it in the air was enough to take her mind strange and interesting places. But to stay there day in and day out? That way was neither her family's nor hers, but it seemed like Old Raulyn here had it down to a fine art. And all without the slightest hint of vegetation or alcohol! Dreamy didn't know which plane of existence the well-traveled dwarf's mind lived on, so she preferred to leave him in peace.

As she steps toward Lord Jordenin, her mind, ever carried along by thoughts and memories of music, throws the sound of a cheery beat and riff through her. Liking it, Dreamy lets the internal tunes continue to echo inside of her and brighten her mood. Perhaps it's a little gift from Desna? Who can say?

Dreamy can't help but wince a moment when she first notices "Lordy Jordy" taking painful steps. It was moments like these that she earnestly wished he could visit Twilight Reaches, for their aches and pains were of different natures in her beloved undersea realm. Very few moved about in such pain as he did now. Still, Dreamy had enough of a mind to realize that if he was trying not to make a fuss about it, then he didn't want to be fussed over at all. Even by Yanna. Dreamy sent up a silent prayer to Desna, the goddess of travel, to ease his suffering and to use Dreamy to make it happen if it were Her will.

Seeing Tillie and her new bird gives reason for Aerdreamifafalierie to grin a little. Birds were neat creatures! Nothing under the waves sounded quite like them! Tillie's hesitance doesn't alter Dreamy's steps. She casually strides up to Lord Jordenin (unless Old Raulyn comes out of his mind-mist) and, drawing no attention whatsoever to Lord Jordenin's injury, she curtsies and smiles as best as her fatigue will allow. She really wants to ask him about his injury, but now? In public? Now is not the time at all.

Trying to stifle a yawn and failing, Dreamy covers her mouth and when her body allows, she addresses Lord Jordenin as if there was nothing at all amiss about the early hour, his request for their armed presence, and a shared dream that clings to Dreamy's mind more thickly than any bong smoke she had ever seen inhaled. Glancing at her boots, she decides to ask him about the mud when things are more convenient. His needs came first.

"A bird on Tillie's arm I've never seen before, an hour that I'm rarely up for, and a request for action! Now that's the life of an adventurer! Good morning, your lordship! What brings you to call on us, good sir?" Dreamy can't help but peek over her shoulder and give a happy wink to Thomas. The ever-thoughtful priest had saved her from potential embarrassment moments before when they had answered the door. And now? Now, even with the heavy cloak of fatigue on her shoulders and the memory of the chill fog in the dream, Dreamy felt she was as prepared as she could be to take on the day!

Aysik offers up a deep bow to Lord Jordenin, still feeling wobbly on his feet, but proper respect must still be shown. "M'Lord, I am at your service."

Amber takes a moment to look over at the man she sees as a father figure and hopes that all is well with Lord Jordenin. She echoes Aysik's comment by saying, "Your will, sir, is my command."

Following in the wake of his comrades, Thomas regards their patron's current incapacity with pure compassion. Were he a more dedicated healer, he might have been able to concoct some form of poltice or unguent that would work to deaden the nobleman's agues without dulling his sharp wits and humor. Alas, his strengths were set in other directions, though his ready mind was ever-willing to ponder what medicines or herbs could be used for Lord Jordenin's discomfort. Putting these thoughts aside for a time, he joined his companions in greeting their host, though Dreamy's cheery wink set him aback momentarily.
"Well met, my lord. While I can see your old incapacity has chosen this inopportune time to visit you, I trust you are well in all other aspects. My companions and I stand ready to help and assist you in whatever way we are needed."

"What they all said, milord." Rodrik said with a grin, standing to the left of Aysik, Amber and Thomas so that he could point at them with his thumb.

The dwarf couldn't help being a little curious - as well as a little concerned - about Lord Jordenin's physical state. He knew about the man's dodgy hip, and could also see that he was starting to turn grey, but this seemed like a particularly bad decline of age.

Did he have the same dream as all of us? With everything that's happened, I wouldn't write off the possibility.

 

[Kaerri]

Dreamy offers Fijit what she hopes is a polite adjustment. "'Herbalists' are what we in the Twilight Reaches call those who enjoy the more dreamlike qualities of... certain herbs and plants out of their funny water bongs and colorful pipes. It's quite possible to be an 'herbalist' and something else! My parents and their whole band sure are."

Fijit hears Dreamy's explanation, but replies only with a shrug and a nod. She isn't really that either but it's too early for debating, especially before breakfast.

"I don't remember the exact combination off the top of my head. It was a long time in the past. I know that there was cactus juice, moon sugar leaves and hashish involved though."

The gnome nods again at Rodrik's answer, pulling out her formula book and jotting that down in the back (formulae in the front, notes in the back; it works for her and it's fewer books to keep track of). Could be a useful thing at some point in the future. Or not. Hard to say right now, which is why she's writing it down for later consideration.

You're treated to the familiar sight of Lord Jordenin; and it does not take more than a glance to see that he's having one of his bad days. As he limps down the few stairs in front of the entrance, his weight seems to get carried almost solely by his trusty cane on one side and Iris on the other; every few steps, he pauses to catch his breath, leaning against the younger maid. Iris herself seems to carry two thick wool blankets as well, and mumbles words of encouragement every now and then. Yanna hurries over, but the Lord seems intent to reach the carriage before acknowledging her presence. Still, the elf - in her usual, wordless way - waves you over.

Oof. Clearly the lord's had a bad night, or morning, or whatever this counted as. That he is going on this trip anyway reiterated the importance of it, even more than being awakened in the middle of the night. But there's no need to make a fuss over his condition, and maybe he'd dislike that as much as she would herself. Fijit lets the others carry the conversation, such as it is, and merely waves a greeting (possibly unseen given the height difference, since she's still somewhere towards the back of the group). She's as willing to do whatever they're about to be asked to do as the rest, but she's not one to make any kind of show of it. She wishes they had time to prepare properly for the day's events, but it looks like they'll even be doing breakfast on the road. At least, the alchemist hopes that's what the cauldron is. Heavy enough, at least. Now there's something she can do.

Fijit hurries over to Merione. "Here, let me help," she says, reaching out to help support the cauldron, warily in case it's hot.

 

[Purr]

Fijit lets the others carry the conversation, such as it is, and merely waves a greeting (possibly unseen given the height difference, since she's still somewhere towards the back of the group).

At some point, Dreamy looks about and does a head count and when she sees Fijit waving, the Paladin swiftly steps to one side so that Lord Jordenin can plainly see the creative gnome and her friendly greeting. The half-elf can't seem to help herself when she also points toward Fijit and grins in the hopes that the Lord won't miss the crafty alchemist's presence.

Dreamy feels if she were the size of a gnome, her desire to be noticed would be no less. Plus, she thinks it would be nice if their wounded lord could see as many friendly faces before him as possible. A simple heartfelt smile could change a person's day!

 

[Silanon]

Before she can even offer her aid, Fijit is already faced with the distinct scent of coffee coming from the cauldron; not quite a breakfast in itself, but a gesture that keen, attentive minds might be needed, and not just a group of half-asleep helpers. The gnome's help is clearly appreciated by Merione: "Thank you, m'lady, praise the gods for your kindness. The thing's heavier than I thought, but the Lord said to make enough for all. I'll get out a few mugs right after." With that, she allows Fijit to get a hold of the handle, and help carry the pot over to the others. The gesture brings a smile to Jordenin's lips, and so does Dreamy's; the Lord is a man who finds joy in seeing other people's thoughtfulness for those around them. Still, the smile fades all too fast, replaced by an expression of pain. Wordlessly, he makes the last few steps until he can take a seat in the carriage, then sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. When they open once more, they are focused, and quickly wander to find all of you gathered nearby.

"Thank you, you all. There are bad news to be shared. Well, potentially bad news, but forgive an old man to trust his instincts. Tonight, Lord Alden sent a bird." He nods in Tillie's direction, where the eagle cocks its head as if it could understand the words. "You might know that he is an avid hunter; and that he rarely misses the opportunity to have an eye on the western river banks. This night, he saw something that he could not place, and decided to better be safe than sorry. And I shall act likewise. Perhaps it's nothing - but the Lord has been one of the Baron's best scouts before he took over his brother's role. If he says there might be danger, we will be ready for it. Thus, I will meet up with Lady Teldon and discuss what measures might be necessary, and Raulyn will fetch the twins to spread the word. But if danger is on the way, then the best place to stop it are the bridges, and Lord Alden himself commands few men. Thus, I'd ask you to hurry to the northern bridge, and make sure that it does not fall into the enemy's hands if there is indeed an attack. The Lord suspects to have noticed an undead's stare from the riverside's bushes; a scout, perhaps, but maybe more. Once the bridge is secure, he intends to take a closer look himself; track down whatever he saw this night."

He is interrupted when Merione comes to hand out mugs, quickly filled with coffee for those who'd like to take her up on the offer. Jordenin himself takes a deep sip, then continues. "This is Roots. Nothing ever changes here, they say. Still, be wary. Undeath and the Duke go hand in hand. And if he is involved, and threatens us... then times are about to change for the worse. It might be nothing. Or it might change everything. Graham will have horses out for you in a bit. Make sure you grab whatever you might need, do the necessary preparations - and then be on your way. I'll promise Lord Alden that you'll be at the bridge by nightfall" - he raises a small letter, than makes sure that it's handed over to Tillie to get it on the way - "and I'd hate to let him wait longer than that." You all know that this is doable; not much time to dawdle around, though, or you will get there after nightfall.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, then asks: "Questions?" He looks exhausted as he sits there, wrapped in the blankets that Iris brought to keep him warm. Yanna silently shakes her head in response. Her place will be, as always, at the Lord's side. Tillie is busy tying the letter to the eagle's leg, and sends him off soon after. Old Raulyn... has halted his horse, and stares blankly into the void, roughly in your direction - lost in thought.

What would you like to do?

 

[Sherwood]

Aysik takes a few deep breaths as he thinks, then simply says, "Of course, sir. When do we leave?" You can sleep when you are dead, soldier! In the meantime, march on.