Looking up at Roman as he approached, Banglen-Yp smiled at him, for once.  All right then, yes, she usually smiled at most anyone most anytime.

•• Yes • I • am •• I • saved • this • litt•le • one •• He • is • grate•ful • but • ti•red ••

She turned so that Roman could see what was in the little bundle and the she smiled again, patting and stroking whatever it was she had saved.

It probably was not an elephant or a giant.

 

Roman smiles back and gives her a little squeeze.  "We're all tired.  And glad to be alive."

 

Nodding, Banglen-Yp giggled and looked at herself.

•• Can • al•so • use • an•ot•her • bath ••

A statement if ever there was one.  While she was not soaked in dirt there was enough to warrant at least some cleaning.

•• New • casts • does • not • shed • dirt ••

A statement with conviction, and followed by a firm nod.

•• Can • not • re•mem•ber • dirt••free • cast ••

She shook her head and sighed lightly, then returned her attention to the bundle.

•• Ro•man • un•hurt ••

That was a question, and a small glance up at him.

 

And so requests are made, for food, or baths, or simply for places to rest.

Parcifal and Gawain lead their guests into their own, somewhat smaller, Charyk.  Tahirah though, stays outside, circulating through the crowd of refugees, and the guards who continue to protect them.


In the dining hall of the castle, servants move with quiet efficiency, bearing fruit and bread, and cold meats, laying them out on long tables for the guests to help themselves.  Jonnee Kay does not wait for instructions, but grabs an empty platter and starts to pile food onto it.

Some of the guests are weary, and are shown to places where they can sit and wait, while water is being heated for baths.

Outside, the people are gathering around Tahirah, many of them with questions for her... "Have you seen my son?" (or daughter, husband, wife, mother, father, or betrothed... ), "What is this place?", "What happened?" and the most common one of them all...

"What will happen to us?"

Roman shrugs "A few minor hurts.  I fixed the worst of it shifting back.  Nothing to worry about.  My clothing, though could do with replacing.  Or at least the servces of a good seamstress."  He notices the food being laid out.  "Shifting and healing uses up energy, though.  So food, a bath, then bed seems like the best thing now.  Maybe your little one would wake up for a bite or two."

Jonnee continues to eat, putting large quantities of food away, with frightening efficiency.  He looks for Aaron, but finds James first, instead, and heads across to the other man.

"Food's good, and I needed it too.  Had a busy day, and I'm starved.  Listen, soon as I'm finished eating, I'm going back to Charyk, the first Charyk.  My guys are sitting there with some shiny new guns."

"I plan on taking them home, and teaching then how to use the things.  Next time you call, we should be able to kill Archons from a distance.  Lots of them."

Dorian feels relieved to finally arrive at the second Charyk. Food, rest or a bath- the choices fight within him. He craved all three equally. The baths were still being drawn, and the food was available now.

As they enter, he pauses to hand something small to Cyan.

Then, suddenly he stops, turning to James. "James," he says, somewhat surprised. "She's at the other Charyk."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:47, Sat 27 Jan 2007.

"She went after Cyan.  She wasn't known to the enemy and thought that with her talents she could get close enough to reach Cyan... and then to recover the Cyan that was buried.  But now Cyan is back and Meredith's still missing."  James answers Dorian's question.

James had been doing his best not to fret.  He knew Dorian must be tired, spent from his efforts in battle.  He knew also that Dorian would likely forgo sleep in order to prepare his spells for the next occasion.

James also knew that despite the reunions and reconciliations someone, probably Tahirah, would connect Cyan to the attack.  He didn't know if any of the city's lords had survived, but James wanted to be present - and calm - before any trouble started.  If Parcifal and Gawain tried to enforce justice or perhaps exact revenge it would not end well.

Unfortunately, now that the thought had gripped him, he could not shake it.  He practically hovered around Dorian despite his best efforts.  With Dorian's announcement, the tension in James explodes in a frenetic burst of energy.

"Jonnee, eat quickly!  A good friend of mine is back there and I'm not leaving anyone behind this time.  Morgan, would one of your panthers bear me?  I need to go back."

Cyan enters the vast building in a state of wonder.  Indeed, like Menegroth...but above the ground.  She stares at the comfort, and compares it to the stark lethality of the other Charyk.

Why are the two so different?  And who are these brothers?


Berd, upon Trista's shoulder, keeps one eye on his daughter as they walk.


"I am certain," Cyan replies to the other woman, glancing at Berd as she accepts the small ring from Dorian, "that Berd is honored by your offer."  Her voice is wry as she studies the drake, and while there might be a raw edge to it, its undertone is soft.  She continues more seriously.  "It was a bright thing that you and he met, I think.  A bright thing for all of us."

The bard turns toward Dorian, holds up the silvery band.  "Thank you, Dorian.  I will wear it for the nonce, until you have satisfied yourself that naught is amiss."  With that, she slips it on.

Banglen-Yp and the Man Who Was A Storm are examining a wrapped bundle - from the way they hold it, whatever lies within is alive.  Curiousity spikes in Cyan - they brought this from Charyk?  But the offer of a bath has come, and Banglen-Yp seems to be amenable.  Perhaps she can ask while they bathe.

"Well said, Jonnee Kay," she replies to his explanation.  It's a wonder he can speak, with so much food in his mouth.  Moving to wear he sits, she leans over and gives the whipcord man another quick hug, knowing full well it will take far more than the edges of her armor to bruise him.  "Safe passage," she whispers, "and take care.  If Berd can find my palanquet, we shall not be so long out of touch."

Another Questor leaving.  This time, though, he lives.  For that, she gives thanks, doubly so as her hand may have been the one to slay Jonnee, without the fortune she received.

But now, another problem.  James tension has grown, and he is deep in conversation with Dorian.  She catches a word or two, then James hurries to both Jonnee and Morgan.  Someone, it seems, has been left behind.  At that thought, panic fills her, and she stands...and sinks back down into her seat.  The armor's weight is leaden upon her, and Cyan cannot begin to see how she might help.  Berd is exhausted.  There must be....

Wait.

"Left.  Right."

Twin blurs, one silvery, the other chrome and crimson, suddenly hang in the air before her.

"Can you bring James back to Charyk?  Immediately, and assist him in locating this...missing person?"

 

Nodding to Roman as he reported no malfunctions, although she was not certain what the replacing or seamstress would do, Bandlen-Yp pondered his words as she studied the food and the offer of bathing.

As he mentioned the little one waking up for a bite she gasped and turned so that it got further away from him.

•• He • is • not • for • eat•ing ••

A clear, determined statement.

•• No• bit•ing • him ••

She had not saved him merely to be eaten, after all.  Movign away, towards where the baths were being announced, she shook her head.

•• We • go • bathe • first •• Then • eat •• Then • bed ••

Hurring along she glanced back with suspicion, keeping the little bundle safe in the crook of her arm.

 

Turning back from James, he sees her slip the ring on. It should be sufficient until he can investigate further. Anyone trying to get into Cyan's mind would have to bring significant force to bear to get through the barrier, and that would be enough, hopefully, for either Dorian or Berd to detect.

He is relieved that she wears the ring, but the Archon's still concern him. Should he be concerned? For now, the words echo in his mind. If she trusts them, he can tolerate them. It isn't the trust that bothers him, but the reason. Are they friends? If so, they would be unusual and helpful allies. Are they simply so loyal they won't betray her, even in her betrayal of their kind. Such a thought would be lunacy for a human, but the Archons are not humans. He'd spent some time scouring Gaz's mind, tainted as it likely was, to have some understanding of that. How much more did Cyan now know of the Archons? In time, they would know. So many things required time right now.

Time was one asset Dorian hated to see slip past.

Nevertheless, there was a logistical sense to it. The troops, as it were, required time to recover. Moral was an important factor in any campaign, even if the troop were as small as this beleaguered handful of eccentrics. More than that, though, Cyan was an important member of their group. They had all noted things had been somewhat different without her presence.

He sat himself down at the table. Memories of the inn and their conversation were close, but he did not dwell on them, this time. He had eaten very little before the battle. Now, with rest looming, it would not do well to eat heavily, though his body yearned to do so. As usual, he filled his plate with vegetables and a single piece of fruit and some bread. He scans the meat, but does not partake of any this time.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:38, Mon 29 Jan 2007.

Roman quickly corrects Banglen-Yp.  "No, No, I meant that he might want to take a bite of food. And if you're going to give him a bath, watch that he doesn't bite you."

Shaking his head, he lets her go to get her bath.  For himself, he makes his way to the table and efficiently piles up a selection of foods to replenish body mass and energy lost or expended in the battle.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:41, Sat 27 Jan 2007.

Jonnee nods at James' urgency.  "If Meredith's there, then she might be with the brints.  If she is, then she's more than likely in the safest place there is.  My boys remember that she pulled all that stuff out of the domherre ambasador's brain.  With their opinion of the domherre, after that, she's okay in their book."

He finishes what he has on his plate, and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket, his yellow eyes fixed on James' brown ones, "I can get us there, if you want?  Let you save some strength for bringing her back."

Looking up from his meal, Morgan nods. "I think so. Everyone's settled enough, for now." Raising his voice a bit,  Morgan called over "Ahmad, care for a lookabout with James? He's heading back to the battlefield. "

Morgan's choice wasn't quite thoughtless. Ahmad wasn't like to be insistent on manners the others wouldn't know with the battle over, and he seemed to like James.

A moment's silent inspection later, and Ahmad rose, padding over to James. Amalie, uncalled for, is sniffing at Jonnee's shoulder.  "You've met Ahmad before, James. D'you need a saddle? "

"She is indeed safe," Dorian says to James. "And I don't see any signs of stress. I would venture a guess she's merely returning after all the excitement. I'll talk to her, let her know that friends are on the way."

His food is still untouched. He gives Cyan an apologetic glance, and then stares into the distance.

In the other Charyk a small young woman is surrounded by hideous, reptilian monsters. They are gathered in a circle around her and one of them is examining her intently. The beast runs his scaly tongue over a multitude of razor sharp teeth while a hand, knife-like talons able to extend at a moment's notice, gently touches the smooth curve of her cheek. She winces, but holds steady. He nods slowly and motions to another of his kind, speaking in a spurt of hisses and croaks.

While the soldier goes to look for the item the medic requested, the young woman queries him in his own language, the sounds hard for her to vocalize, but she manages. The medic hushes her, tells her not to talk, and confirms his diagnosis. She nods, her lips set in a thin line. It was broken, just as she thought and in her book it was still a fair trade... a broken bone for a broken heart.

At that moment she cocks her head to one side sharply, the sudden movement causing a warning throb from the wound. The soldier returns with the flat, icy cold pack. Meredith holds it in place absently, her mind elsewhere, too preoccupied at the moment to even worry about the cold.

Dorian froze after a moment, utinsel poised over his plate, but unmoving. A frown creased his brow, and his eyes narrowed a moment. He gave James a cautioning look.

We. He said 'we'. That meant he was with the others! Half of Meredith's mouth curves into a smile, and without realizing it she begins to bounce on the balls of her feet in anticipation. The group of Brintizzi assigned to keep her safe in the aftermath of the battle are largely ignoring her.

Tahirah makes her rounds for some time, doing her best to act as a kind of human bulletin board.  Her talent for drawing patterns from nothing helps considerably with reuniting people, but she decides Parcifal is right.  Tomorrow will be soon enough for bringing any other order.  She makes a particular point of thanking the guards, and trying to find an estimate how many of them might have been lost.

She will also quietly speak to some about the strange lizard creatures that came to Charyk's defense, and see if perhaps a few might be interested in helping train those in the use of the rods.

James suddenly goes very still, but there is a gleam in his eyes which suggests that his nervous energy is merely channeled elsewhere for the moment.

Meredith ceases her bouncing and cannot keep the grin from spreading across her face. Luckily the ice-pak has numbed the wounded area so she does not feel any pain from the expression.

Evidently something is up.  Dorian seems caught, with James, in the attempt to find this Meredith.  So...that's who it is.  She shoots a glance at Trista, with Berd on her shoulder.  For a time, Cyan thought Meredith might be Berd's creation.  That was 'before'.

Now...she can't see it.

"I expect they do not require your assistance," she says to both archons.  They hum with a certain disappointment - no doubt much of this simply goes over their heads - but move back to the armor, floating again near her heels and shrinking down to the size of a pair of quarters.  Cyan shivers, within that black bastion she wears.  It may take...some time to become used to them.

She may never be truly used to them.  Too many memories.

Now she sits on her bench, and waits for the baths to be readied.  The longer she is out of everyone's attention, the better she feels.

Dorian's eyes glance towards Cyan, friendly yet distracted, he nods with a small smile, as if agreeing with something. She seems to be doing well, but those baths can't come soon enough. He can see the weight of the armor not only on her flesh, but on her spirit. Now he knows something of what the armor means, and he understands. If it were not for certain sudden distractions, he would consider conjuring up a bath for her immediately. For now, though, she seemed content to wait. It was a paradox that she likely didn't want to be the center of attention, yet it would be hard to avoid under such circumstance.

"Meredith," he begins slowly. He was not sure what had happened with Meredith, but Berd had said she travelled with the Army. "Has changed, it would seem. I would suggest a fair amount of caution, James. However, I doubt she is an imposter- if so, she is a horrible one." He adds the last part lightly.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:08, Mon 29 Jan 2007.

Activity bursts all about the still forms of Trista and Berd. Banglen-Yp shares something secret with the man later named as Roman who James had introduced as the storm cloud. A Shape-Shifter. She’s seen a few in her day. If this means he is of the same ilk as her mother, Trista has reservations about the man. She’s quick to hush the judgments within her, rather giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Several take the edge off hunger, something Trista would rather do after a bath. However, the baths won’t be ready for a bit and the food is here. She carts Berd off to a wash basin set in the back along the side boards. She labors to wash her hands free from grime, as well as splashes some water on her face, being careful not to soak Berd if he doesn’t wish it.


Returning to the tables, her eyes follow James as he excitedly hovers about Dorian and Jonnee. Something seems amiss, something about a ‘Merideth.’ Although curiosity repeatedly pulls her eyes up to the men, she attempts to not eavesdrop, though it’s difficult to not hear the major points. Another friend is returning.

Modes of transportation are offered, including the little Archons, sending a chill down Trista’s spine. Fortunately, Morgan offers his panthers, which somehow seem safer.

Trista takes a seat across from Cyan, assuming she and Berd would like to remain close. She grabs a platter and picks out a few small pieces of fruit, meat, and bread. “What would you like to eat, Berd? You can share my plate if any of this appeals to you.” Certainly, she doesn’t know what dragons eat.

It’s a strange sensation, sitting here in the middle of the commotion. Cyan, who had been at center stage, sits back; seeming to enjoy the peace she is given. The newly discovered Merideth has taken the spotlight, and it is with some interest Trista hopes she will still be around when the woman is reunited with her friends.

Trista sits in the group, but is not of the group. Her only real connection is with Berd, and that is newly forged. Certainly, now that James’ Merideth returns, the drink and chat will be put on hold indefinitely. Trista feels a certain loss at that, but is grateful that another reunion is about to take place for these who have been through so much. It is a good day when friends and loved ones are restored.

Her attention turns to Cyan, who would probably rather not have it. “Can I get you anything while you wait for the baths?”
This message was last edited by the player at 11:33, Mon 29 Jan 2007.

James subsides a little.  He raises his voice a little to announce, "It's okay.  She's with the Brintizzi.  She's safe."

More quietly, he continues, "You're right, Dorian, she has changed.  But it is Meredith.  James doesn't sound at all upset by this, merely a little puzzled.

"Ahmad, I'm not much of a rider.  Would you prefer a saddle and flat out or bareback and a slightly more...cautious speed?"