Active [Western Ryke Near the Fae See - The Silk Road, Part 1]

[Renny]

Connor Erland​

---

Irihi Maxxob RavenSong revior CrackCauldron

Faan took a few moments to listen to all of their inputs. She soon decides to release the wagon driver, and just as soon he would react with hostility. Instinctively, Connor would rush forward to intervene, but Faan’s own orders for them to stand down would stop him in his tracks, though he would stay close by nonetheless. The wagon driver’s reaction was understandable, but Connor wasn’t quite that quick to assume ill intentions from the elfmaid, considering how she handled letting the group know what she was to do when she used her abilities on them a few days back.

At the very least, the situation has now somewhat calmed down, and the general plan has been more or less agreed upon. Now that the driver has agreed, although reluctantly, to stay, Connor would get set to chase after the giant serpent.

“Are we all settled now? If that’s so, then let’s get going.”

Lucianus seemed to be getting set to go with the rescue as well, and Faan clearly wasn’t about to leave Joanne behind. With a point of his finger to the tracks left behind by the serpent indicating his intentions, Connor sets off to begin the search.

 

[revior]

Lucianus

Location: Burning Bog
Mentions: Irihi CrackCauldron Maxxob

Lucianus was hardly proud of it, but when the wagon driver lashed out at Faan, he did little more than watch. For one, he did not wish to jeopardize their negotiation and for another, he simply lacked the courage to jump into harm's way. It was only when all was settled that he approached Faan and applied healing to her wounds. He did not say much during the healing process, feeling rather ashamed of himself to be unable to shield her from the lashings. He also felt like Faan would reject it and insisted that it was her fault and that she deserved it. If she got started with that Mr. Rockwell over there would probably toss in a snide remark or two and frankly, Lucianus wasn't at all pleased with how the man spoke.

Once the wounds were healed and everything was in order, Lucianus began setting out to search for Joanne. He wasn't sure how useful he'd be in this search, but with Cass's glaring combined with the mood of the driver, perhaps staying behind wouldn't exactly be pleasant either.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

8/20

 

[CrackCauldron]

Cass Garret ​

Disgust. For some reason that was what Cass had felt towards the man be untowardly bent to the woman's will, so simply she had violated his mind. He didn't bent or break of course on this matter, even as Faan relayed the obvious side effects of action Cass remained firm. Freedom after all was of core virtue to the doll man, deprivation or the deepest violation of it was unacceptable, no matter the methods...Still he'd hoped that the Wagon driver had showed some decorum when he awoke. That shove Faan took looked painful. Disgust again, sharper this time, a bad feeling, now aimed at the man Cass had vouched for, though he was quickly stunned into disbelief in a moment as the man drew his whip and lashed a few times-

"-the hell! " Cass drew his gun and pointed at the whip-bearing man without missing a beat. "If you swing that lash another time I swear I'll take it and give you a real backbone!" He meant every word he shouted. Fury still spilling into his voice where his face was masked. The Wagon Driver had crossed the line with a swiftness that was as disturbing as it was infuriating. A coward and a bastard, how absolutely disgusting. Meanwhile the terrifying witch of just a few seconds ago was replaced by a woman who looked so frail. It was a cattle lash in his hands.

​

Marks left would perforate the skin, peachy marks lead to red marks as the skin breaks down, all the way until the bone shows then dries and the smell- like pulled beef. The human body breaks down under such pressure. Soon their throats become parched until the screams become yelps then sobs. Until the next day where they either subside, concede or perform worse onto their captors whence the time came. The scars would never heal though, whenever they put on a shirt they would feel it rubbing under the new skin and at the old brutalised soul, remember the smell of- Cass briefly shook his head clear of that abstract echo. He didn't need further indications to not let an lashing happen any further.

He aimed. If the man swung his whip he would fire into the bench besides him, if they didn't stop, well Cass had five more ideas in line, the first one being those fingers(they always got people talking when). None of them involved stepping into the whips path, nuance and further thought to their words lost on him. Quite simply he had no quarrels or doubts as to his past actions towards freeing the Wagon Driver, and now that same conviction would shoot the very same man for crossing another line he had drawn in his mind.

Faan deescalated things from there. For some reason not wishing anyone to intervene further. "What the hell you talking about Faan?! Don't sit there like a wet puss! You both did wrong, now just shake hands and move on. No need for this 'punishment' business or whatever weird shit your on about." He meant every confused outraged word of this as well. Only lowering his gun when Faan seemed to have lowered her spirit and dignity enough to deescalate. Strange. Cass didn't want to think about the implications there.

From there things calmed down. The Wagon driver keen to see Faan killed left her sulking, sated for now.

James volunteered to stay with the rest of Lucianus's offered help. The latter weirdly warm automaton despite thumbing through important looking documents gave a succinct if too subtle statement regarding the matters at hand(the implication flying over Cass's empty head). Nonetheless Cass trusted them to uphold the deal struck with the coward and keep the wagon safe(after all they 'fought' a frog together), it at the very least gave him an excuse to get away before he did something stupid/morally upstanding. Cass slipping his gun back into its holster cold, choking down his simmering anger to give thanks to the staying automation, tipping his hat to the fella. "Thank you, 'ppreiate it... " before he departed with the rest of them, whistling terribly all the while.

Only once they were outta earshot of the wagon and further along this trail of destruction they followed did Cass speak up:

"Faan, you do know that self-flagellation ain't gonna do a thing right, letting someone else do the whipping ain't gonna help either. That old bastard back there is just gonna squeeze you for profit until you ain't you no more and your still gonna feel the same old shitty you feel now- " Cass chuckled a sardonic chuckle "Heh- 'Fair enough'- haha! You can get angry y'know. You may have done like the deepest most violative cruel thing you could do to a human but that don't excuse the way he acted- Wh-what I'm trying to say is don't dig two holes alright and you ain't gotta ask for anyone's forgiveness especially not from a cowardly disgusting deserter like him, don't let him drag you down with him. "

He wasn't good at all this: "J-Just don't do ever do that mind thingie again alright. And whatever happens happens, its in the past, don't get hung out over it, sometimes you just gonna let a body rot. Um, Lucianus you know something about....Poppies yes!" Cass's rare shaky voice tried to edge about the not so metaphorical body of regret and guilt around here- unsuccessfully. Though he did mean what he said, the Wagon driver wasn't worthy of guilt, already ideas of how to 'excuse' him from the party came to Cass's mind, and well the dead ain't worth lamenting over. Cass then bravely coughed and rushed to the front with Connor.

Still something irked him about that whole ordeal. For some reason he didn't want to meet Faan's eye right now, disgust again like a pit in his stomach...Lucianus should hopefully be able to console and comfort her in his own way(Cass was extremely unsubtle in this regard). Of course Cass wasn't going to apologise for his actions, there was nothing to feel sorry or feel doubt towards- which is why he thought it better to let someone better suited at soothing take over. Cass was quite evidently rubbish at that part. He'd much rather be here, at the front with Connor, 'impressing' him with his own arrogant rendition of 'Mary's lamb' while trying to not look at the other people present.

While he whistled he looked about keenly, a nice distraction from the moral mess behind him. Gun at his side for whatever wasn't in the worst that passed them.

Spoiler: Dice Result

18/20, on discord

 

[Maxxob]

Reconnaissance Unit I

Titles: [Construct], [Offworlder], [Businessman]
Languages: "Common", "%Analog%" - #2a60e8
RP Goal - Acquire Asset Mine Ryke F
Point Booster - Attentive Student F

Irihi Renny revior CrackCauldron RavenSong

James listened to the man, the display of RU-I shimmering in a soft, azure tone every once in a while, static appearing and disappearing from a moment to the other. Quite a few things caught his attention, but his expression remained even. Interest in information often led to transaction, and he wasn’t willing to barter, for now.

Elven, Fae, interesting words. “I see, so usually wagons end up unbothered if their cargo is not of ready value… it makes sense. I can’t see a bunch of uncouth, dagger twirling thieves having too much use for bark or iron, with no one to conduct business with.” The man retrieved the cigar that was resting snug in the ashtray’s groove. And bringing to his lips, its very tip came alive with a long drag. “About the elf’s luggage, do you have any idea what she is hiding in it?” James asked, as if without ulterior motives, smoke being allowed to leave through the corner of his lips. Taking a peek at it was an option.

“Huh, so gigantic frogs aren’t a commonality. Good. It means business can still operate without too much overhead, better profit margins and all that.” 200% or bust was James’ current paradigm. With a whirring of gears, the torso of the machine turned, screen now turned to the path which the elf, and others, took. The camera, set located right on top of the display moved, rotating, lenses opening and closing.

It was a singular, short moment, but soon enough the machine was back focusing on the driver. “I can’t deny your assessment. She seems like someone quite… problematic to keep around. Cursed even.” The businessman frowned a bit as the words came out of his mouth, barely believing he was saying something that absurd. That superstitious, but the woman showed to be a magnet of bad luck.

Upon the driver’s lament to not be able to enjoy the tobacco, James took a long, full drag of his own cigar, letting the smoke fully obscure the display as he blew it out of his mouth for a moment, saying nothing immediately. “A haunted logging camp?” Raising his eyebrow, almost dramatically, the man in the magic painting leaned back on the armchair, the soft sounds of leather creaking being caught by the microphone and reproduced by RU-I’s speakers. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised by now.’ He thought to himself. “Ashoc…” His eyes darted, finding a small notepad on his table. “... so you aren’t taking the group all the way to Calenmar, the destination which the blond-haired zealot spoke of?” A spark of interest glinted in his eyes.

“I assume you aren’t privy to why a crusader would be amongst the others, would you? Their group seems to be stitched together, like patchwork, formed on a whim.” That was what he thought, there appeared to be little cohesion, or familiarity, amongst the members of the group, with two exceptions. “Still, I suppose even random stocks, gathered in a single portfolio, can generate profit if chance allows it for.” He shrugged, happenstance sometimes made millionaires, as well as miserables.

“Kobolds…” James’ eyes narrowed, arms crossing over his chest. And then, once more, another person entered the display. This, person however was revealed: a woman, with a rather low-cut blouse. She bent over James’ shoulder, offering a glass on top of a tray. Thanks to the almost monochrome quality of the display, the contents of the glass couldn’t be made off, but it was clear that it was a lowball glass. The businessman would uncross his arms, take the glass. The woman would leave in the next moment.

“... considering what we found so far, I suppose Kobolds would be the lowest threat amongst them.” He concluded, cigar being removed, so that the glass could take its place. A tentative sip was taken. “God of justice? No, I’m not privity to it. What about it?” A layer of disdain colored the tone of the hyper-rational man, deities were simply too fickle, unknown variables of the market. And he didn’t particularly enjoy those.

“A prisoner of your own mind? What exactly did that woman do?” He furrowed his eyebrows, wanted to know more of whatever had transpired, his senses having not picked up anything amiss before the outburst. “An elf slave…” James repeated those words, as if tasting their quality on his tongue. The word held little real meaning in his world, often mischaracterized to represent something else entirely. The businessman’s eyes lost focus for a moment, he appeared to be deep in thought about the information just relayed to him.

And, after some time of silence, which appeared to stretch, agonizingly so, the faintest of smirks appeared below his mustache. Opportunity. “The decision of what to do with a flesh property will depend first on its value. It could pay off to simply sell her, if it is a possibility, even more if the payout is generous. But then again, value is never fixed. It changes with culture, demand… and the stories people tell themselves.” The tone that left the speaker was even, not a single shift on it.

James was a [Businessman] first and foremost. Moral implications were only important when they affected payout. Meanwhile, his imagination quickly drafted the idea of a slave auction, how it would work. Of course, all based on assumptions, yet scary on the precise details he was able to conjure. Imagination was essential for business, after all. “Now, assuming no potential buyer offers an interesting sum for her, I would likely have her work. First, in any kind of business I might own: a lumberyard, a mine, a tailor shop. Anything that could have its efficient increased by assigning this flesh property to it.” He took a moment to take a sip of the liquid again, the burning sensation of alcohol wetting his throat at the same time that put a fire in his belly.

“If that isn’t possible, you can perhaps see a place that would employ her, and you keep her earnings? Of course, her operational costs mustn’t exceed her output. Otherwise, she becomes a sunk cost. And I wouldn’t bother trying to assign her to the protection of your caravan, mercenary work, or anything like that. She has shown herself quite lacking in that aspect, thus will certainly end up being lost rather quickly.”

 

[RavenSong]

Perhaps it was the sheer impression of the great white serpent that Joanne had left out a fair few descriptions. "Y-yes.. forgive my lack of detail Sulkan.. I.." Surely, there was more to tell, Joannes voice stuttering and occasionally quivering as the serpent appeared to laugh at her, it was a haunting noise like a river of rattlesnakes. "..beyond his color, has green eyes, has some sort of ability to erupt out of the ground and carries a scar across his chest." She looked away for a moment before revealing one last detail. "..it is said.. that he appears when the light begins to fade in the hearts of her most faithful.. it's when Dala chooses a disciple."

As for Sulkans intrigue and inquiry, Joanne would bow her head, the following words would otherwise be heresy, but it was as if her words weren't her own. A sudden courage overtaking her, "It would be a most bold request to ask of you to join me in battle should the moment arise. I fear Kraliamun himself is behind the corruption within our order, soon or later.. our church of brothers and sisters alike will find themselves at odds with one another." Looking back up at the serpent. "It would suffice, to only know a general location of where this dragon could reside. You are powerful, you are the ruler of this swamp." Joannes voice softened, sympathetic and almost caring. "However, I do understand you have no reason to become involved, I have nothing to offer a mighty being such as you, as such I bid you farewell, and otherwise take my leave."

Joanne would bow her head once more, planting the tip of her sword on the ground before her as she placed her hands over the butt of the hilt. Although her golden locks were muddied, her eyes revealed a determined shine as the sun's rays fell upon her. She could only await Sulkans answer. Surely the others were either searching for her, or still within days reach. In her heart, Joanne felt Faan would attempt to find her, if but only her cadaver as closure. The crusader would take a deep breath and exhale shakily as her eyes looked up at the towering Sulkan.

 

[Irihi]

Giant Snake “Givesssss up too easssssily, doesssss the Disssssciple of Dala,” opined the giant snake. “Legssss and armsssss and sssssmall ssssssize has she,” Sulkan said. I am great, but even great sssssserpentsssss can be sssssserved by sssssmall onesssss.” So saying, the great shimmering scales of the white snake shifted.

The serpent turned its great head until something came into view; atop the creature’s back, a few dozen yards behind its spade-shaped head, something jutted from between its scales. ”I have a thorn from which I cannot free mysssssssself,” Sulkan hissed. “Perhapsssss the ssssservant of Dala removesssssss it while I contemplatesssss on the desssssscription of thissssss wyrm.”

How Joanne was supposed to surmount the serpent’s ship-sized sides to reach whatever was up there, would be a question for the knight to solve. Sulkan, like his lesser cousins, did not have the physiology to roll sideways.

Wagon Driver (Earlier) Cass’s intervention stopped the half-hearted lashing the man was aiming at the Elfmaid. Frightened and angered as he was, he still had retained his wits enough to take the strength out of the arm whipping a helpless elfmaid. He wanted Faan away or gone, not cut to ribbons. The few strikes that landed stung and would leave bruises, but there was no crack to the whip, nor speed in it to shred clothing or flay skin. The bandage-wrapped construct’s shouting and threat to shoot caused the lashing to end.
…
Later, finding himself in a strange conversation with the man-in-the-magic-box, the wagon driver was amiable enough in his discourse with James. “No sir, I do not, he replied. ”I’m in no hurry to bring more misfortune down on meself by meddlin’ in elfy affairs, an I’d avise yew ta do the same.” The driver wasn’t a sneak or a thief, and had a healthy superstition about Fae and their belongings. He wouldn’t stop RU-1 from trying to open Faan’s luggage, but he wouldn’t participate in the endeavor, either.

“Nay, my load’s bound fer Ashoc. If’n yer travellin’ on to Calenmar, yew kin find and join a guarded caravan headed that way at the staging grounds in Ashoc.” The driver shared. ”Or, yew kin try striking out on yer own, though I wouldn’t advise it; bandits on the highway is dangerous; they ain’t like that band of forest yokels what ran afoul of us,” he warned.

The driver shivered as he recalled the feeling of his mind being bound up inside his own head by the influence of the empath. “It weren’t pleasant.” was all that he would share, before turning the subject to the debt Faan owed to “society.”

“Miralis be the blind and all-seeing eye what judges yer crimes an’ assigns ye the title of [criminal].” The driver began explaining about the god of justice. He told James how Faan’s crime would bar her entry from Ashoc and make her a target for any who magically appraised her titles.

“Well, her penance’ll be limited.” The driver found himself somewhat shocked by the lengthy list of possible ways James had to extract value from a person. “She din’t kill or maim me; t’were more like being imprisoned against me will. If’n I makes ‘er me slave, it’ll be fer a few days at the outside, I reckon, afore her sentence is done and she’s square with Miralis.” The driver scratched his head and considered Jame’s suggestions. “I think she’ll wanna discharge her title afore Ashoc; so I suppose I could put her to work fer me; though I ain’t really ‘ave need uv ‘er.” the wagon driver pondered the idea.

While, on the surface, having Faan cook his supper, tend his oxen, and rub his feet sounded appealing, she was Fae. Could he really trust a tricky elf not to curse his Oxen or do some secret magic that would see him wake up with no toes?

“Yeh know, t’aint a half-bad idea ta sell off her contract.” The driver latched onto James’ idea. ”Mebbe that four-eyes, she’s sweet on, might buy her offa me,” he pondered, aloud. “Or how about yerself, metal man? Yer duds looks like yew’ve got coin; yew in the market fer an indentured elfmaid?”

Wu’Faan Liewuun
​

Equipped Titles: Fae, Elf
Mentions: revior CrackCauldron Maxxob Renny RavenSong

Faan was as glad to be away from the wagon driver as he was to be rid of her. She knew he could have done far worse than he did with his lash, but her bruises and the welts under her clothing still hurt--though less so for Lucianus’s healing power.

There was something demeaning in being struck with an implement meant for draft animals, and--with the action past--Faan found herself having to bite back a growing anger at having been so humiliated in front of her companions.

Cass, alone, escaped the elfmaid’s mix of resentment and shame. Though she had thought him only a drunkard of a construct, he had stepped in to put a stop to her lashing.

He doesn’t understand. The elfmaid realized, as Cass gave his opinion on her offer of penance to the man she had wronged. She kept her own counsel at the time, anxious just to get on their way to finding Joanne’s remains Joanne.

The elfmaid was feeling terrible as they trudged along the path flattened by the giant serpent. She found that her bumps and bruises stung much less than Lucianus’s silence. She’d closed his mind to her when they’d brushed hands; still horrified by her fear response, so nothing of the man’s thoughts had transferred to her. Then, when she’d apologized, her words had obviously left him unmoved--for he had said nothing. It’s what I deserve, she thought, miserably. Not two days had passed, and she had already invaded as many minds. She’d only just managed to keep from throwing Lucianus to the wolves. He was completely within his rights to meet her apology with stony silence. She wondered, as she had asked, if he would ever forgive her, but now was clearly not the time to ask.

She should be grateful Lucianus had not, at least, piled on her as had James, and that he had argued in favor of trying to rescue Joanne, and even healed her hurts--even if he had done so in a tense and angry silence. I’ll give him some time, Faan resolved. Maybe in a few days he might accept my apology.

With some distance put between themselves and the wagon driver, Faan got hold of her emotions and decided to try explaining to Cass. Like the wagon driver to James, the elfmaid spoke of Miralis, the God of Justice, and his judgement. “I do regret invading his mind, Cass, but I don’t offer penance solely of my own accord.” Faan realized how awful this made her sound, but she forged ahead, anyway. “By imprisoning our driver within his own mind, I’m now branded a criminal. I’ll be denied entry into Ashoc, and I will be unable to complete my journey if I cannot discharge this title,” she explained.

Faan left off explaining that any with the strength to do so could now do her harm free of consequence. It was an important detail that Cass should know--since he must be newly Isekaied and ignorant to the ways of the world’s justice. However, there were many ears around, and--though Faan had detected no duplicity in their minds when she had interviewed them--the empath knew that power could corrupt even the good. Without her escort, she was feeling too vulnerable to go on at length about the details of being branded a criminal.

The Perils of the Swamp Not long after this, the luck of the rescue party turned. For a while, they had been able to follow a clear and flat path on high ground. The great serpent was cold-blooded and preferred to stay out of the muck and mire when it could. In fact, it liked the warmest parts of the Burning Bog, and--by virtue of long experience--bent its path toward these.

One smokey islet, over which the snake had slithered, had been warmed by the ever-smoldering peat and gas fires of the bog. Faan had replaced her footgear, and the others had never removed theirs, so the growing warmth of the ground provided little warning to them, when they approached a cinder pit covered by the smashed foliage of the snake’s passage.

Conner happened to be in the lead when the party reached the hidden hazard. Abruptly, the ground beneath his feet--seemingly just solid flattened grass--gave way in a shower of ash and cinders. The swordsman vanished in a literal puff of smoke as he fell into the burning pit. Faan and Lucianus were close behind, and the collapsing edge of the pit caught both of them before they could stop or back away. Only Cass had luck enough to avoid the hazard completely. Before him, a great circular crater would yawn wide, lit from below by jets of flaming swamp gas and smoldering peat.

Spoiler: Results of the Collapse of the Firey Pit

Conner: (7)
Conner has fallen into the depths of the pit, where the steep walls are hot crumbling ash, the heat is intense, and the air is fouled by smoke. He must escape (or be aided) quickly to avoid burns and injury from smoke inhalation.

Faan and Lucianus (8)
Faan and Lucianus have not fallen as far, but they are still in danger. They have a little time to escape, try to help Conner up, aid each other, or call for help without choking on smoke.

Cass (18)
Cass is not only sitting pretty on nice, dry, not-on-fire ground, but there’s a whole mess of vines wrapped kinda loosely around a swamp white oak tree next to him. (OOC: Or some other helpful swampy thing of his writer’s choice) What a lucky cowpoke!

 

[Maxxob]

Reconnaissance Unit I

Titles: [Construct], [Offworlder], [Businessman]
Languages: "Common", "%Analog%" - #2a60e8
RP Goal - Acquire Asset Mine Ryke F
Point Booster - Attentive Student F

Irihi Renny revior CrackCauldron RavenSong

“I see. She does seem awfully secretive about her luggage, who knows what she might be carrying in it.” Even as he said that, James knew that someone did know it. Either that or the bandits targeting the wagon earlier had been just a happenstance. Still, it paid to know about it, if only for information’s sake alone. “You do well to not try to uncover whatever she is carrying. That extent of her curse could be… fatal.” Something glinted behind James’ eyes as he said that, not believing in a single word that came out from his own mouth.

“I don’t particularly care about reaching Calenmar, but the crusader implied that it would be a mercantile hub of sorts. I rather go where money flows and deals can be struck. Smaller settlements rarely offer the opportunity for one to expand their assets, after all.” Bringing one of his hands to his lips, the man in the display leaned backwards on his chair, while the index of his free hand tapped the surface of the wooden table in front of him. He was deliberating his future course of actions. “Despite the white-haired woman, this group seems quite competent. I can’t quite see their usefulness being spent just yet. It could pay off to stay with them, unless I find Ashoc serviceable.”

James’ eyes narrowed, a single eyebrow being raised as the wagon driver further explained about who brands criminals and how they do it. “So this Miralis, some omniscient ‘god’ decides what brands someone a criminal?” The idea was absurd, but was it as absurd as a gigantic amphibian being swept by the jaws of an even bigger snake? “I take bribing him takes a much larger wallet than a federal judge, is that right?” The businessman asked it in jest, his tone dripping of sarcasm.

Leaning forward on his chair, James retrieved the burning cigar from the crevices of the ashtray. Bringing it to his lips, he gave it another long, rich drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. “So you might only have her under your ownership for a while…” He concluded by the man’s explanation, after blowing the smoke out from his nose. “That will certainly restrict the manners in which you can use that flesh property.”

The machine’s threads began spinning, its heavy shell beginning to move towards the back of the wagon, torso turning towards it. “I do have plenty of assets in the manner of fiat currency and could buy minerals with it, as I’m certain that gold would have value for you, wouldn’t it?” The camera on top of the display focused on Faan’s luggage, the metallic grippers moving to search for a way to manipulate and open it, without damaging its exterior.

“But alas, I don’t have any means to get it there, not now at any rate. Attempting to sell her to the specced lad will either work wonderfully or backfire splendidly. He doesn’t strike me like the type with enough guts to make that deal, however. But some variations are unpredictable: uncertainty in the market breeds volatility, and volatility, when mastered, breeds gain.” He grinned.

 

[RavenSong]

"I.." Joanne would bow her head, a hint of shame in her voice when the serpent challenged her resolve. She'd have nothing to say, and perhaps it was best to remain silent on the matter of giving up so quickly. Deflecting the comment however, she clung to another topic. "..I would never be worthy of the honor to be Dalas disciple." Straightening up her gaze, "It'll suffice to be a servant."

It was just then that Sulkan turned to reveal a large thorn lodged in between his scales; behind his head. Joanne hummed softly as Sulkan suggested something she could assist him with in exchange for potential information. "I will not fail, Sulkan. Please, keep still if you can." Doubt flooded the crusaders mind, was this some sort of trap to get closer to the serpents jaws to make her an easy meal? Surely, she was barely a crumb compared to its giant stomach. In spite of it all, Joanne wouldn't hesitate to approach the giant serpent, jogging up to him as she placed her sword behind her back.

The holy knight would place her hands on the pearly, glistening scales. It was nearly impossible to grip onto the scales themselves, save for where the scales met one another. Using her might and flexibility [Super Strength F] [Athletics F] in any way possible she'd climb onto the great serpent Sulkan's tail. Once upon its flatter back she had a slightly easier time, but would still make sure she held onto the serpent. All would seem to go well enough until she slipped, to which the knight would quickly grasp back upon the giant serpents back. Thereafter, Joanne would risk ridicule by hugging onto the serpent until reaching the thorn.

Struggling with the idea of falling from such a height, Joanne would attempt conversation, perhaps to press Sulkan, to keep her mind distracted, or to keep the serpent from changing his mind about keeping his end of the bargain. Not that she had reason to doubt him, but because of the rarity of such a collaboration.