The land around Oleg's is fairly flat and easy to walk.  Grasses grow wild here, with occasional copses of a few trees surrounded by bushes.  It would be a good place for growing cereals, fruit trees and other crops.  However, there are few places to hide from the wind in winter or the sun in summer.

"Some apple trees over there would be nice."  Zorah muses out loud to herself more than anyone in specific as she points to an area near the edge of Oleg's.  "Anything in specific you all want me to point out, or try to find?"

"I was hoping you might be able to give us a few survival tips for the forest. The Ondari estate is near a small village but I never spent time hunting in the surrounding forests. I can't speak for Valoria or Percy, but I am feeling a bit unprepared for an expedition in the woods without one such as yourself. I looked at the maps and the area we will be scouting is primarily plains, so we should be ok, but anything we can learn today that might save us tomorrow seemed prudent."

"Well, if you get lost just head back in a straight path toward Oleg's.  Remember which way you head away and go back the opposite direction.  North.  East.  South.  West."  She points out each direction.  "I always remembered it as Never Eat Slaughtered Wolf.  "N" for north, "E" for east, "S" for south, and "W" for west."</Rose>  Zorah points out the directions again.  "There are a few ways to find north."</Rose>  Zorah explains how to navigate using the stars or to look for moss growing on a specific side of trees and rocks.


I don't know if the DM has a version of the north star or that the sun is positioned in a way that moss grows on the north side so I left it vague.

"Oh, I've traveled a fair bit," Percy admits, "though always in the company of guides who knew what they were about, so I've never had to make my own way.  They were polite enough to ask my opinion on occasion, of course, but I'm afraid my answer was invariably 'whatever you think is best'."

"Out here ... I think we'll not be so cozened."

Zorah's instructions for finding direction come as a surprise to the young gentleman ... not in and of themselves, but moreso that, "I must have picked up more wilderness craft than I'd thought !  Quite accidentally, I assure you."

"I believe I can at least orientate myself in the right direction, though I would still not preclude getting lost ... and I believe one should move downhill to find water ?  But perhaps you might give us some hints as to what is good to eat and what is not ?  I admit to being partial to berries, and would rather not poison myself or others in my greed !"

Suddenly a small grey bird bursts from the undergrowth, with a brief flutter of wings, and runs awat acrorss a clear area towards another clump of bushes.

"What about that bird? Did something cause it to take flight like it did? Could we do that on purpose and shoot it as it rose? I'm a fair shot with my bow."

As the walk draws close to the bathing pool, Big Job comes in sight.  His clothes clinging damply to his body and he is striding purposefully and confidently in the direction of Oleg's.  There is a wide grin on his face as he calls out a greeting.

"Good morning, all."

"Poisonous berries? I would never have thought of that! I was worried about stumbling upon a poisonous snake or spider or some other bug. I clearly have a lot to learn," Andalon responded to Percy's comment.

When Big Job came into view Andalon was startled at first but quickly recovered.

"Oh, hello Big Job. Have you come from the bathing pool. Is that where it is, down that way?" he asked.

If Percy was but concerned about poisonous berries, Andalon's remarks adds spiders and snakes to that list, though at least the approach of the big Half-Orc does not surprise him.

"I suspect that there'll be few bathing pools in the wild - the occasional stream perhaps, maybe a pond or two ... nothing we have to worry about," he suggests with a grin.

"Just behind those bushes." Big Job responds a little more loudly than you would expect.

"Well then, I should probably take the opportunity before we head out on our next mission," Andalon concluded. A quick sniff at his armpit and the expression on his face showed that his fears were confirmed. "The sooner the better, I would say."

He bowed courteously to the others and headed off toward the bathing pool.

--> To Bathing Pool

Cyrus made note of the location of the bathing pool but would wait until later in the day to bathe. That would be a luxury he would take just before dinner.

"Andalon, take care. We will see you in a little while. Zorah, thank you so much for your guidance. We should get back to camp and prepare for our expeditions in the morning."

After Andalon has departed for the bathing pool, Cyrus continues, "Perhaps we should find Brother Bartholomew and be officially sworn in as deputies? I wouldn't mind having all that official business behind me so we can make our final preparations for the morning." He looks down to Valoria to see where she would like to go from here and then over to Zorah and Percy to see their response.

Valoria tried to ask Zorah as many questions as she could think of. “What's that bush? Can you eat those roots? What can you harvest from the land at this time of year?” She listened very closely to everything Zorah had to say about nature and survival.

As the day began to move towards the afternoon, She smiled towards Andalon. “See you in a bit cousin. Zorah your knowledge of the wilds is greatly appreciated. I will miss traveling with you.”

“I think being officially sworn in as deputies is a must. Shall we be off?”

Overhearing Valoria's questions, Big Job looks surprised.  "Harvest?  At this time of the year?  Some of the berries are just coming in perhaps, and if you know the right  roots you can find something -  but this time of the year I would be looking for game, you know grouse or rabbits, rather than plants.  Berries start coming in soon, fruit trees later.  If you are lucky you might find some Bear Garlic, Ramsoms, in the woods -  But you gotta be careful because they look like the Valley Lily and those are poisonous."

He looks at Zorah almost in apology for butting in, but sees the plant Valoria is pointing at.  "No.  I'd stay away from those although I, personally, have never tried it.  But it is better to only eat plants you are sure of, rather than assume plants are safe.  Some will kill you slowly and in agony if you eat them. Even those Valley Lillies I spoke of earlier."

"Thank you for that advice, Big Job. Perhaps my bow will be of some use."

Cyrus was pleased with Valoria's approval and her eagerness to become a deputy marshal matched his own. He thought about why he was eager and realized all the moreso why she would be ready for an official position. He found himself troubled once again by the corruption of his "betters."

Cyrus let Zorah, Big Job and Percy get further in front of them so that he could speak to Valoria privately.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:33, Sun 12 June 2016.

"At least we know what grouse and rabbit look - and taste - like !" Percy smiles at Valoria.  "We'll be careful with the berries, then."

"Officially sworn in ... if we must, I suppose.  Sounds very proper.  Yes, let's get it over with.  Thank you, Zorah and, er, Big Job."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:18, Sun 12 June 2016.

Valoria looked up at Cyrus and replied quietly.  She lifted an eyebrow at him with a small smile.

Cyrus smiles widely and his fair complexion turns a shade of red that belies his emotional response to the question he was just asked. He speaks softly in response

Cyrus looks away for a moment and then he looks back at Valoria.

Valoria smiled with glee, a red blush in her cheeks and nodded.  Valoria gave Cyrus parting smile before returning to the trading post.

--> to Oleg's

Cyrus watches Valoria leaves and then turns back to the direction Big Job had pointed for the bathing area. He guessed now was as good a time as any for a bath and a chat.

As he made his way, he saw Pipre emerge from the foliage adjusting her clothing and on a mission to get back to Oleg's. Cyrus nodded and made his way into the underbrush as well.

-> Bathing Pool

(technically you saw her walk away topless, drying herself in the sun. just saying)

In reply to Pipre (msg # 23):

OOC: thanks for that correction, I'll be sure to address that fact to Andalon in my next post :)

Zorah stares off at the bird, considering the purpose of it's flight.  She spends too much time trying to locate the nest it had been attempting to lead her away from and misses many of the questions the others are asking.  Finally she snaps back to the conversation in time to hear several of the others say their farewells.  "Oh, you're welcome.  Yes, Big Job is absolutely correct on all counts.  Sorry for my scatterbrain.  That grey grouse was trying to lead us away from it's nest most likely.  I was hoping to find it, but can't seem to locate the thing.  Yes, we should probably get back before it gets too late."

OOC - Sorry for the delay.  The weekends have been keeping me busy the last few weeks.

---->From Oleg's--->

Giving only a momentary glance behind her, Aris'ta moved out until she found a flat area where she could still be seen and sat herself flat to the earthen floor. She removed her shoes, rolled up the ends of her trousers, and removed the right glove from her hand. To say she was dressed casually was putting it mildly, her arms bare, legs pulled to just below the knee and feet bare, she looked more prepared to relax than what she was planning to do.

Of course, it all depended on other people. She raised a hand idly to one year, pulling at the tip before giving up entirely and spreading her legs before bending forward to stretch. She was wound so tight, that she never seemed to get enough to feel truly at ease, and even now her stomach coiled tightly. Instead, laying her sheathed sword in from of her as she stretched, she readied herself for what promised to be a most uncomfortable situation. Regardless of what conversation came with.

< Oleg's

Not long after the meal was consumed and any final preparations were finished, Rook wandered out of the walls and looked for his instructor. He'd gone throughout the day wondering when they would train, if they would at all. Doubt had crept in after her quick departure and lack of return. Now that the time was upon him, a slight jitter traveled from his stomach up. Whatever he'd be doing wouldn't be with a stick as it had been when he was young. The sword was a weapon, dangerous and probably not as sharp as it should have been.

Wondering if maybe they'd leave the sheaths on and practice that way, he spied Aris'ta already stretching. He skipped a step and stopped, not wanting to kick up any dust. Especially after she'd washed in the pool. "That was a long bath." Rook commented as he approached her. "Gone most of the day. I bet it was nice, though. Did the sun warm it up? It was a little chilly this morning."

Aris'ta sighed and shook her head, "The bath was short, and cold. Very cold. " she assured him, pushing herself up from the stretch and folding her legs beneath her. Pushing herself to her bare feet, she turned and looked at him, looking more tired than she had previously, or perhaps it was something different. Fragile would have been a way to describe her at the moment, but also resilient. Leaning down, she fetched her sword and held it in her gloved hand.

"You hold the weight instead of letting your body adjust to it." she pulled his hand away from his belt to allow it to hang and shook her head. " You would be wise to speak with the tanner and have him make you a proper sword belt, since you seem uncomfortable with it." she took a step towards him, hesitating only a second for she invaded his personal space to fiddle with the belt that held it's sword. "I promise, your chastity is safe with me, Cleric," she murmured softly, tightening the latch and adjusting the fitting. Even as best as she tried, the movement still pulled him alarmingly close, even with the best footing, and his was suspect.

"Sounds a lot like mine. But those are the best kind. Wake you up, get the blood pumpin'." He gestured with his hands as though he was waving his blood up from his stomach. And then he pointed to her feet and his boots. "Do I need to be like you?" But before she could answered, he was pulling them off and tossing them haphazardly to the side. "At least we've both had a bath today!" He chirped happily.

"Well, yeah." Rook replies as she takes his hand off of his sword. "It's extra weight that I'm not used to. Feel like it's gonna pull my pants down. Maybe I need new pants too." He seemed to have no problem with the helpful adjustment, instead he put both of his arms up to give her better access to the belt and weapon. Rook was trying to stay still, but failing, especially when she made a joke that caused him to bark in surprised laughter. "My chastity is safe with me." The grin on his face disappeared as his expression darkened. "Oh, no. Having to actually fear for that when you're with someone must be terrible. Especially as a woman, when all you have is his word. Aw, I made myself sad." His eyes darted back and forth as his imagination began to rev up.

Without thinking, Aris'ta grabbed at the top of his pants and tugged, then shook her head. "You might indeed." she said, lifting her face to find him right in hers. "Yes, well, I've never really had to worry." she darted her head, giving the belt on more tug for good measure. This time, there was little give. Satisfied she nodded. "Easier, of course, when no interest is shown." she didn't add that the comment had made her sad as well. "Tell me if that feels better." she indicated, pulling back and waiting for him to walk now that it was fit correctly.

"That bath definitely helped." Rook finally managed a grin, the tugging on the fabric reminding him of getting his inherited pants taken in. "Are you sure it wasn't shown? I'm convinced you wouldn't know it if you saw it. Imagine all the glances you thought were something negative and they could've been something else." Arms still up, he swung his hips from side to side to see if anything fell down before taking a few gyrating steps back and forth. "That does feel better. I reckon I have to get used to the feeling. Maybe some extra suspenders, too?" He inclined his head, as if asking her opinion on the matter.

"I assure you," she stated darkly, "I would have known. I've looked for it all my life." she cut off there, working her own sword in place at her narrow hip and raising a hand to her chin. Resolving to answer and face whatever verbal sparring surfaced during their brief training together. "Show me how you draw the blade. Not in attack, but draw the weapon and hold it out as if readily yourself for a possible battle. " she lowers her hands to her hips and waits for him to show her.

"Have you looked in different places?" He asked with curiosity, his hand unconsciously going to the sword again and holding it while he used his right to pull it from the scabbard in a less than fluid motion. It pulled at the belt and by the time he had it out, he knew it had been a terrible draw. Without waiting to hear from her, Rook placed the sword back into its sheath. "That was terrible. I know. It feels so long, I don't know if I can get it out quickly."

"Where I am allowed," she nods, watching him before she visibly winces at his action. "I remember," she murmurs, moving towards him. "Your first error is how stiff you are. " Ari knows only one way to teach him to feel the blade at his hip so she moves around the back of him and lines herself up against his body so that her head is over his shoulder so she can speaking in his ear. Lifting her gloved hand, she urges herself beneath his, "Feel my motion, and follow it, " she says softly, guiding his left hand, his off hand, to pull the sheath back so that the hilt and sword tip into a ready position. "Good, not pivot back with your left foot, " she indicates with a tap of her own bare left foot," stepping back to give your body balance while the right hand comes around and pulls the sword free. "

She snakes her hand around and across his belly, pulling the sword free even at her awkward angle. It's fluent, if not slow, and she returns the blade and slowly begins to withdraw.

"So you left the forests to go search for.." Rook paused as she moved behind him and pressed up against him. He wraps his hand around her glove and follows the movement to tip the weapon into position. "I'm stiff because it's all new. I don't have a motion that's like this I've done before, know what I mean?" The young man moves his foot backwards as instructed, a little wobbly due to a worry of stepping on the woman so close behind him. He makes a surprised sound when she pulls the blade free in a fluid motion that was no quiet his own. "What was it I was saying before all that?"

"Something about the forest," she murmurs in a low tone, moving around to stand in front of him. "Am I making you uncomfortable? You seem tense," she notes, tilting her head at him. "Here, I will stand here, so that you understand to keep your arm ready and not limp." She steps right up next to his chest, keeping both of her hands down so that she is standing tall and still. "Repeat what I showed you, and draw the blade from around me. I'll move as you move." she stated, waiting.

"Oh yes! You're from the forest? I wouldn't have guessed that. And you left looking for a man?" He kept his hands on his blade, gripping the handle lightly and moving it the first few inches and dropping it. Her question made him smile brightly. "Of course you're not. I just didn't do any of my stretches. My teacher ran off. Bit her lip and everything."

He straightens as she approaches and puts his arm around her. "Are you holding my arm or am I moving yours?" Rook took ahold of her right wrist and brought it across her body to try and grab his sword. "My sword's a little far back. Streeeetch." It was clear he was completely distracted and wasn't even close to following her instructions. Attempting to move head face from her right side to her left, he got a face full of hair and sputtered slightly. "Wait, hold on." He brought her right hand up from his hip to reach behind her and rub at his nose. "Itches."

Ari glared at him at the implication. "Are you implying I'm desperate?" she asked, ignoring any likelihood of an answer, but he spoke and she softened some in memory, "I-- didn't realize you had noticed, " she said quietly, regretting her decision of method, but she didn't move. That would be giving in and that was certainly not something she would do. She didn't appreciate the teasing, it felt more personal, but she allowed his attention to wander, felt her hair pull and pulled just as he tugged her hand to rub his neck. She pulled it back and glared at him. "Serves you right, it isn't nice to tease." she replied, turning her back against him again. "Again? Only this time, you do the reaching, not me. I'm here just provide a space"

"What? You--" He stopped, looking around as he searched for the words. "I asked a question, what implication did--how did I imply.." Rook trailed off, shaking his head. "I was just surprised. Because the way you looked," He brought a finger up to stop her immediate train of thought. "That had nothing to do with the color of your skin, but your armor and the sword doesn't make me think of someone from a forest. Like, how could you climb in that?"

Rook tried to remember then how they had arrived on climbing. Then she spoke and he focused on her words. The last sentence she said moved the right piece of the puzzle into place in his head. "Oh! Oh, okay! I'm doing the motion around you." He tried drawing the sword again, still moving slowly but giving each movement his full attention.

Even as careful as she knew Rook was being, she pressed herself as flush against him as she could to avoid injuring herself on the sword, lest he slip. She should have paid more attention to his form, for his did well and deserved praise. She should have paid more attention to his positioning, so she could tell him to turn his foot back more, but what she heard, what she focused on, was the sentence he spoke only a moment ago. "It doesn't bother you at all, does it?" she said, turning the conversation back. She tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at him. "It's just a different color, that's all." her voice filled with disbelief. A tremor shifted through her.'How cruel. How utterly and entirely cruel.' Instead, she opted to attempt shifting the topic again. "Armor is easily removed, in the open I am more a target." she says, using the color as a shield.

The cleric was indeed being extra cautious so as not to cause any harm to himself or her. While still repeating the motions she taught him, he moved with slow determination. It didn't seem like he would ever speed up, but each repetition added fluidity to his movements. "Why would your color bother me? It's just skin. Ain't like you chose it. What matters is what you do, not what you are. You need to focus on that." He said with assured finality as he returned the weapon to its sheath a final time. Still he didn't move away.

"Okay, I learned how to pull it out. Now I need to know what to do with it afterwards/"

"For some, it means a great deal, " she stood still for a moment more, and peeled herself away. "Never make the first move unless you must, if gives the other the advantage. You see their direction, and can either move and strike, or defend if necessary. When you strike first, you lose that. " she narrowed her eyes at him, watching him carefully. "You are unlike any one I've met before, you drive me mad, and you don't even realize it. Don't even do it intentionally." she says honestly, pulling her sword and re-thinking her decision before letting it fall back in place.

"Yeah, I seen that. For different reasons, too. All different people out in the world. Can't focus on the bad ones. Just like a potato harvest. You pick out the ones that are rotten, but you toss them out and forget about them. Your main concern is those good potatoes."

He began working on his hand placement while looking at her to memorize with his hands and not his eyes. "You lose the advantage because you're committed to an attack instead of having open options." Rook tried to continue the line of thinking as best he could.

"What? I drive you mad?" He asks in amused disbelief.

"Yes, you," she affirmed, reaching out to correct his lines as she spoke, "you drive me mad. If this God of yours does truly exist, he must have a very dark humor." She straightens his wrist, nodding. "It isn't right. I lived fine alone. I was fine. Three days with you and suddenly..." she stops, pursing her lips and rubbing her eyes.

"And then earlier..." she rubs her eyes with her gloved hand. "Of course fate would have a sense of humor at my expense."

"Now, see, that's what gets me. That's three or so different thoughts you didn't never finish. So I'm trying to follow along and I just get left hanging in the wind." Rook replied, stopping the practice to gesture with the handle of the sword. He steps closer to her, putting the blade away again. "What makes you think fate is considering you at all? Fate is a river after rain. You don't have any power. All you can do is follow the current and keep your eyes open for something on shore you can grab onto."

He jumped back, throwing his feet apart and hunkering down while trying to pull the sword. The motion wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good either. "Is this a chop or a stab type weapon?"

She stares at him, her jaw dropped open a fraction of an inch. "Well, Thank you. I'm not sure fate itself could have made my existence less important." She quickly raises a hand to wave away any response he may have on that. At least if she believed cared enough about her existence to make her miserable, it showed enough concern of interest. His comment implied she suffered for no reason, and that sat wrong.

"It's not a toy. Style will come later, for now, keeping it in your hand enough to protect yourself from damage, that's a good accomplishment. Hack and slash," she indicates the weapon in his hand, "comes later. Right now, even I could cut you down, and I am no master."

"Why are you waiting for some outside force to give your existence importance? That's up to you. You can't be so passive. You're still going to get hurt being passive. At least being active you can take control of what happens." Rook continues without regard to her hand waving. "You know what you want. I've heard it. But you're not trying to make it happen, you're just going along with the flow of the river." He put the weapon to the side and walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Find that piece of shore you want and swim towards it. Reach out for something to grab. Don't let yourself be swept away."

"I wasn't ever really concerned about style. You could cut me down regardless of my skill. I wouldn't raise a blade to you." He holds up the handle towards her.

She lifted her chin, looking up at him defiantly, but the look wavered. She was losing her touch. "When you have lived as nothing for as long as I have lived, you would not find what you are asking as simple as you speak it" she took a step closer, "Self inflicted pain hurts less than the pain others cause." She subconsciously leans towards his touch, catches herself and looks back at him.

"You fail to see I am as incapable of harming you, as you are me. So I can't just.. reach out, and grab what I want, " she lays her bare hand on his chest. "It hurts too much already to be this close to it." Her eyes no longer rest on his face, downcast to hide the pain there.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:38, Tue 14 June 2016.

"What?" Rook boggled at her statement. "You're not nothing. You have feelings, desires, fears. You're a person, the same as me. Regardless of what anyone says. That's something you have to know and never forget. Nothing worth doing is simple or easy. Existing isn't simple or easy. We struggle from our first breath to our last. The key is to finding people to share your struggles with, to help you with them."

He sighed heavily, the hand on her shoulder sliding down her back and pulling her in. He put his other arm around her still holding the sword. ""Oh, Erastil." Rook whispered. Then he spoke up. "Whoever convinced you that everyone around you will be hurt simply because of your presence was wrong in that belief and wrong to teach you that. The pain you inflict on yourself is worse because you can stop it. You can't control how anyone else behaves except yourself. What have you done to deserve any of what you're feeling? Just existing?"

Ari closes her eyes and listens to his words,, she sighs "Even if that were true, he meant well, Rook. The world is not a kind place to my kind. We are looked unfavorably by our own race. Most like me don't make it past infancy, let alone to adulthood. " She falls silent as he draws her in, unfamiliar with such close contact in a vulnerable setting. It makes her knees shake, lock and she's not sure why.

Undeniably, she feels safe and calm. Calmer than she has felt for a very long time. The hand on his chest curls slightly and she allows her eyes to close, to enjoy the sensation, rather than the bleakness beyond it. The warmth from his hand at the base of her spine is soothing, but when she opens her eyes and tilts her head up to look at him. Reluctantly, she pushes back, but not enough that he would be forced to relinquish his hold if he didn't want to. Lifting her gloved hand, she makes short work of removing her slender fingers from the tight fit, letting the article fall to the floor as she rubs the back of her hand before lifting it slightly to see what had lain hidden beneath.

"My father's people give this mark to slaves and half-breeds as a way of marking property. I was given mine as an infant, likely shortly after my birth. My mother had one as well, I have been told. It is an insult that I even exist. To have a human parent is one thing, but my mother was Elven, so the insult was considered even deeper. My human father tried as he could to protect me, but those who saw the mark were easily angered at my presence. I rarely went to town unless it was necessary and even then, I kept out of sight. My place was made very clear to me in this world. " Without a clear place to put her hands, regretting dropping the glove so that she could hide the mark there away, she placed them lightly back to his chest.

"My father tried to prepare me for the lonely life I would lead, marked perhaps by the occasional companion or... " she doesn't say the next word, but her cheeks darken as an indication. "But it was made clear a normal life is not something to expect. My kind do not settle into families, we don't marry and have children. " she closes her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "It's not even likely I could."

She winces as she bites her lips, marking the sensitive spot in the middle barely healed from morning.

"And look at where well-meaning has gotten you, Aris'ta. You're out in the world alone and you haven't even fully developed yet." Still embracing her with one arm, he reached around her with his other and put the sword in his sheath in what was probably the most natural attempt the entire time. He looks down, giving her room to finally unglove her hand. It was something he'd noticed several times, but he hadn't really ever paid close attention to it. Now that his other hand was free, he took the overly warm hand and pulled it close to his eyes to look at the mark closely. Rook released her hand to shake his head.

"You're getting it all wrong. Those people, the things they told you were part of their lives, not yours. Your hand might mean something to them, but to everyone else it's nothing. You give it meaning, not the rest of the world. Your father did wrong by you. Even if he was trying to do what he thought best, it wasn't. What would he know of your 'kind'? What does anyone know? You were a foundling, so it's not like he had any clear idea on where you came from. It was horseshit and he should've consulted someone. As many people as he could have." He leaned back, taking both of her shoulders in his hands and bending to enter her field of view. "It was his duty as your father to protect you. And instead he's hurt you. And he's still hurting you because you willingly hurt yourself."

The look she gave him reflected her reluctance to believe what he was saying, but it was hard to deny the evidence she had seen from the others they had traveled with. His gaze was too intense, she looked away, looking back and closed her eyes. The worry had been there, the fear, but aside from a very brief look of concern from the bartender when they first met with De La Maistre, she'd experienced none of it from the others.

The aloofness of her first companions had been tied entirely to her own insecurity. The same as it had been when she had first joined in the conversations with others. Was it really so cut and dry? No. Surely not, she remembered the names as a child, the glares. They were real, but things had changed and so had she. "You're right," she said sadly, "I never even noticed before." Turning her head, she lifted her hands and placed one on either side of his face before pulling him forward so she could rest her forehead to him, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said closely, slowly opening her eyes to meet his.

With his forehead against hers, he moved his hands up her shoulders to the sides of her neck. "It's okay." He whispered at first. "Not your fault. A child is grown from the seeds of its parents. You're what your parents made you. Or you were. But you can still grow. We all grow. Who you were when you woke up isn't who you are now. Withdrawing is the easy way to handle things you don't like. But the real strength comes from facing those things head-on." He grinned briefly at his pun, twisting his forehead against hers briefly.

"Tomorrow can be a new day. You can wake and view everyone, everything differently. Everyone doesn't want to hurt you, they don't even know you. When they get to know you, they'll want you in their life. And that's who we have to be. People who add value to the lives of everyone around us. And doing that will add value to our own lives. Value you've been sorely lacking."

Ari watched him, something flickering in her eyes a moment. A shiver ran down her spine when he moved his hands to her neck. She parted her lips slightly, her gaze falling to his lips just a moment before "Rook,..." left her own. A fraction of an inch more and she would have kissed him, but fear is a hard thing to overcome and though what she wanted was already in her grasp, she pulled back just before she connected. "You, uh, sheathed the sword really well. " She shook her head, inwardly groaning at the words as she lowered a hand and tugged at the belt as a way of breaking the sudden tension and tremor that went through her. "Guess the belt, uhm, helped. When tightened right, I mean." She still rested a hand on him, though it had moved down his neck a bit and was excessively warm.

"I did!" He chuckled, leaning back to nod his head without hitting hers. "Good instruction, practice, and a weak arm. It was getting heavy, holding it like that. Plus, if someone saw they might think I was trying to, uh." Rook paused and looked up as he tried to remember. "Something about your chastity. That's what you said, right?"

"Oop, careful. That's not tightening, that's loosening. Pull the other way. I still need suspenders, I think." His hands were rough against her neck and they slid down her back, again pulling her in. "Sorry if I was a little coarse. Don't feel like you have to change overnight. You can't, no one can. But every step forward takes you closer and closer. Keep stepping. Fall down, but get back up."

"You did," she repeated, a sort of half-hearted lopsided grin filled tilted her lips at his excitement. "If you ever have to use it for real, you won't drop it. Something in the blood will keep it raised until the danger has passed, it will give you strength." With a blink of her large arms, she gave a knowing nod and searched for the latch with her other hand, eventually succeeding in pulling the belt the correct direction. "You don't need suspenders, you just need, she is pulled closer and makes a short noise before completing her sentence. "practice." She ponders something, looking at him.

"You said what needed saying, as did I. We're both the better for it, in company and spirit," she laughs suddenly, and shakes her head, she answers before he could even question. "I'm sorry for a moment, it sounded like you might even be there to help me if I fell," she lifted her eyes and tilted her smile. "I wonder..."

"I hope I don't have to raise it, but I will. How will practice help with my belt?" He said, staying very still while she readjusted it for a third time. Rook looked down, watching her hands work. He noticed that she still hadn't put her glove back on. "But I do need more practice with the sword. I hope you'll keep teaching me. I put in an hour with the short bow today. Will you show me how to take better care of them."

"We really are. And I only said it because you deserve to be happy." Rook agreed warmly, giving her a squeeze and pulling back to reach up and touch her hair briefly on a whim, tracing the edge from her forehead down. "What do you mean might? There should be no doubt I'd help you back up. Scraped knees and all."

She gave him a playful smack on the stomach for the 'practice with my belt' comment and shook her head. "That was not what I meant and you know it." Her eyes glow softly, "As I promised you, we will practice. We're to be a part of this exploration together so we'll have plenty of time to do so, might even learn something my self. Nothing good," she teased, only then realizing he still held her. His hands were rough, but it didn't seem to bother her. If anything it reminded her of a man she admired, even if he had led her astray in some ways.

He traced her hair and she closed her eyes, shifting closer against him, opening her eyes and staring at him with a perplexed expression, "Rook, you make me happy, don't you see that?" Suddenly, she felt very brave, and stupid, and foolish, but he did make her happy. Her nerves pulled her tight and somehow he made her calm, and reckless in a way she couldn't begin to describe. With his words echoing in her head, she lifted up on her toes and leaned forward "Without even trying, just by being you. Smelly feet and all." she grins and silences any response he might have as she closes the gap, letting her eyes close to kiss him.

"See? Stuff that isn't there." He grunts at the slap. "I was genuinely curious about how to practice belting. And beyond practice, I owe you stories. We'll have to have daily meetings. Stories and stretching, maybe? By the fire in the forest. I learn quickly, I might pass you before too long."

He tilted his head, eyebrows wrinkling together. "I assumed I just annoyed you the least out of everyone. The most bland and palatable, like a cracker. You'd start to open up and then a stick would break and fftt. Gone." Rook paused. "That was the sound you make when you disappear. Either, you know, physically or in here." He reached up and put a finger to her dark temple. It's lucky his hand is there, really. It gives him the opportunity to gingerly cup her face when she elevates her face to his, her glowing eyes closed and pouted mouth puckered.

His lips brush hers gently and then are strangely absent. A grin is on his face now, though his cheeks are flushed. He chuckles and tries to find the right words. "I'm not, uh...it's complicated. With the. Priest. There's..." Rook cleared his throat, but his eyes were bright. "There's more work to be done. Steps to take before, uh." He cleared his throat again, but hadn't moved anything else aside from his eyes.

The silence was deafening for the whole of two seconds before she draws back, she blinks her eyes first in surprise and next with an emotion unrecognizable. "Oh," she starts, "Oh, of course." she manages, as if what he said had made any sense to her at all. She almost too politely manages to smile as she untangles herself from his hold, placing her hands on his forearms as she worms her way free. The smile is almost too controlled, but it doesn't leave her face. Of course, on anyone else, this might make sense, but for Ari it seems oddly out of place.

She bends at the waist, kicking out her leg as she grabs for her glove and slaps the dirt from it with a hand. "I'm sorry, I should have known, it was just.. I mean, I thought. " she shakes her head, brushing at her cheeks frantically as if it would help to erase the sudden blush that burns there. "Never mind, we've already established my lack of skills when it comes to reading people. " she gives off a laugh, but that too sounds oddly forced and yet one gets the impression it is also strangely genuine given the awkwardness off the situation. "Of course, a priest's work is never done... I imagine. " she's rambling and she knows it, reaching for her boots in much the same fashion as she grabbed her glove, and shoving them under her arm as she pulls the glove back into place.

"Look, we'll just forget I did that and stick to swords and stories from now on. Mmm?" she was trying to hard again and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her.

Eyes widening, then narrowing, then looking skyward, Rook's shoulders round as she pushes herself away from him. He doesn't attempt to keep her from leaving, doesn't try to hold her against her will. "Stop." He begins. "You've got to stop. You're accepting rejection before it even happens. Do you see? You don't even fully understand what I was trying to say. You haven't tried. You're just listening to your father in your head. Not good enough, not the right color." The muscles in his jaw popped out again, he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders for a second time. "Just stop. Be still. Listen to me."

"You can't expect me to be able to fully express myself after that. It's not going to happen. Too much going on. Everywhere. The lips, the--listen. Listen. The standards of my relationships are higher than anyone else's because I'm supposed to be an example. Everyone looks to me to see how to properly raise a family. That means it's slower going. It has to be done with deliberation. It has to be solid, with a strong foundation. Not based on whim or momentary..lu...look, it requires patience because it has to be done properly from the beginning. It's building something for others to see and strive for." He pauses, releasing her shoulders and running his hands down the backs of her arms.

"We both have to be ready, together. And we aren't. You're just beginning to sprout into the person you should be. You deserve to be. An oak tree doesn't tower overnight. It starts as a seed, deep in the soil. In time it grows to something that can't be shaken or moved. Just...be patient. Take this journey with me. Stop running from and start running towards."

"Besides," He says softly, eyes shining again. "If you want the honey, you have to work to get into the beehive."

Her back stiffens and she stops in her retreat, but she doesn't turn to face him. She knows the accuracy of his words, but that doesn't stop the voices in her head or the reaction that has been built into her. It takes every ounce of her will to hold herself in place and not to run, trying to focus on what he is saying instead of letting her eyes seek out the nearest escape. She closes her eyes, and after a moment the tension leaves her shoulders, but it still takes considerable effort for her not to move. The hands on her shoulder steady her some, but he could feel the urge there, to run, to bolt.

At least she was trying.

He starts to speak and her eyes burst open, he can see the instant she is about to pull away again, but he stops her, talks her down as she reflexes her hands nervously. Somehow she holds her ground, biting her tongue to the remark that comes to her lips, but his final comment earns him both a shocked expression and a glare. "That is the most inappropriate thing for a priest to say, and I'm not even religious..." She raises her bare fingers to her forehead and worries them there. "I wasn't looking for a marriage proposal." she says finally, pursing her lips, "Just-- confirmation... that something was there. My powers of perception... " she trails off. It needn't be said.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:21, Wed 15 June 2016.

"Well, it wasn't a proposal. Eventually, but. Regardless. It looks like we both misunderstood. Not a problem." His hands lift from her arms. "The fact remains, I don't dally. I know what I want and it isn't dalliance." Rook says unapologetically. He backed off from her and retrieved his own boots, sitting on the ground to put them back on. "I got away from myself. I tend to do that." He throws his hands up and stands. "Just for the future, in some situations it's better to ask rather than act."

Aris'ta narrowed her eyes slightly, taking her arms and folding them across her chest tightly. Something in the words he used hurt, as if he was continuing in his misunderstanding of her own meaning. This time, she didn't bother to correct him, or even try. The implication wounded her, but this time, she was careful enough to hide it.

"Oh, you don't have to worry yourself in that regard." She had no intention of showing spontaneous affection again. It had been a whim, nothing more. She also didn't mention that 'asking' removed something special from such a moment. "I'm not likely to try it again."

She runs her finger over her brow, hating the sudden awkwardness that holds there. There was no part of this she expected or desired. She almost dreaded speaking for fear of what it would bring. "I suppose I should make ready for tomorrow, there's no need to move further tonight," she says, referencing the sword.

The land around Oleg's is fairly flat and easy to walk.  Grasses grow wild here, with occasional copses of a few trees surrounded by bushes.  It would be a good place for growing cereals, fruit trees and other crops.  However, there are few places to hide from the wind in winter or the sun in summer.

Ferdinand strolls slowly around the outpost.

Cyrus had almost made it to the stables when he caught the sight of Ferdinand in his shiny armor. By the look of him, this was a warrior, armed and armored, with a mount that had clearly been trained to carry him into and out of great battles. Cyrus had trained with older warriors before. Retired swordsman looking to have an easy income and though they had trained him well, they were not men Cyrus admired.

Ferdinand, on the other hand, was the spitting image of the tales of old. A knight to be sure. Though older and wiser. Had Cyrus been a decade younger, he would have approached the man with an offer to be his squire, to serve at his whim and to learn what morsels he tossed aside through his sheer force of will. Instead, now a man of means, though limited at the present, he knew he must approach the man with admiration and respect, both for Ferdinand and himself.

Pivoting, he turned to meet the knight along his path, and as their paths merged he said, "Sir Ferdinand, I must ask, what has brought you to our new settlement and will you stay and aid Henry and my companions in our quest to bring peace to these lands?"

”Hello there.  Cyrus, isn’t it?” The knight returns Cyrus’s greeting, before responding to his question as they stroll.

”I am just here to see how things are going and carry a report back to my colleagues in Restov.  They believe it is in the best interests of our fair city that this area is quietened and controlled, and eventually even opened up as an alternative trade route for us.  You know the river south of here runs down to Mivon and into the Sellen proper?” He half reminds Cyrus with a question.

”As for staying to help, my days for that are long gone.  Now a days, I manage my estates outside Restov, and honouring the oath I made to my old adventuring pals.  Those were the days, when I rode with Jamandi and the others, making names and fortunes for ourselves.  Now, of course, they all have other responsibilities.  Although they are still all true to their original intention  of making Restov great again.”

Cyrus' jaw dropped at the way Sir Ferdinand so cavalierly mentioned Jamandi Aldori, he'd known Ferdinand was here on behalf of her, but that he'd rode with her seemingly for many years...

He quickly recovered his composure, still addressing his lapse, "Forgive my expression, my childhood was filled with tales of the Baron Aldori and his exploits. To travel with and fight beside a true Aldori, both in name and in skill, what an honor? But enough about my childhood fantasies, I"m curious, you mentioned honoring an oath to Jamandi and the others, what was the nature of that oath? Though I have only traveled with my colleagues here for a short time, I find our bonds are growing and my commitment to their well being is paramount."

He paused and then continued, "Is there anything I can help you with as you look to gather information for your report?"

Fredinand smiles at the younger man’s reaction.  ”Well someone needed to keep her out of trouble,” but then he relents and is a bit more forthcoming.  ”She was just a girl way back then, and I was just another younger son looking for adventure.  She certainly gave me that.  Although, to be fair, there were a few others there as well. “ he concedes.  ”I mainly stood there and got hit, while Jamandi danced around them  and cut them to pieces.  But I came into my own when  I had Fleetheart with me.”

Ferdinand walks quietly for a while as he considers the past and Cyrus’s question.  Then with a strange look he stops and turns to the younger man.  ”By that time Jamandi and a couple of the others had had had set their goal to become powerful and influential,  and to drive Restov forward.  I thought that was a good goal and I swore, in the temple of Abadar, that I would help and support them in that.”

Hardly waiting for a response he strolls  on again slowly, ”I think I have all I need for my report, thank you.” he says smiling at the younger man.

Cyrus laughed at Ferdinand's joke about standing and taking the blows, he could definitely relate to that posture. But at the mention of Fleetheart, he made the connection, and was about to ask when Ferdinand went into more detail on his commitment to his companions. Cyrus was really quite curious about what that meant but was also keenly aware that it had taken Ferdinand time to find his words and  now Ferdinand seemed to be dismissing him with his response to aiding him with his report. Cyrus seized the end of that discussion as a transition point to return to the horse.

"Fleetheart is your steed, right? I have a horse here, but she is not trained for combat so I tend to dismount and take the hits for my friends. I learned the basics of riding as a boy, I even jousted a bit, but my training focused on my blade and my shield. Would you be willing to work with me? To help me learn to fight and ride as you do?"

Ferdinand looks across at the younger man, and raises an eyebrow slightly.  "I will be returning to Restov shortly, and you will be here.  However, I will be be exercising Fleetheart in the morning, and I would be happy to give you some pointers, if you would care to ride along.  However, the key to being a good cavalryman, is to have a good horse - and until you have a beast who is trained to battle and the ways of war, you will always struggle in a mounted combat.  An untrained horse will jink and move at the wrong times, and will shy away from your enemy throwing your blow off.  The best bit of advice I can give you is invest in a good horse and then look after him as if your life depended on it.  For one day, it might." he says with a gentle smile.
This message was last updated by the player at 07:53, Thu 13 Oct 2016.

Cyrus smiled at the offer for some early pointers but knew he had a challenge, "My friend Viktoria has a trained horse, perhaps she will let me practice with it tomorrow. I would welcome any advice you were willing to provide!"

Cyrus pauses and then asks, "Did you train Fleetheart yourself or was he trained when he came into your possession? For that matter did you name him yourself? You seem to have a strong bond with him and you talk of him very fondly."

Continuing Cyrus says, "Forgive my presumptions, but you said your commitment to Jamandi and the others was made in a temple of Abadar, do you belong to a religious order or is that the temple available to you at the time?"

"His father was Fleetfoot, his mother was a mare called Stoutheart.  He became Fleetheart." Ferdinand explains the way in which his horse was named.  "I certainly helped with hios training, and he has been with me for a long time now.  He looks after me in battle, so I do my best to look after him when we aren't." he continues, as he explains his relationship with his mount.

When Cyrus asks about his oath, Fredinand stops and turns towards the younger man. "The Order of the Dragon." he replies after a moment "Although that is not a religious order, nor was my oath made to Abadar, rather it was made in-front of his priests who witnessed and recorded my promise to myself.  The order itself is very informal, we are just a bunch of cavalrymen who have dedicated our lives to something bigger than ourselves.  In our pride, we think this makes us better people than we were before.  It certainly gives you a focus in life." He finishes off with a grin.

Ferdinand's answered piqued Cyrus' interest more than they had before and he continued to ask questions, "Ah, Fleetheart has great lineage then, what grand names. How does he watch out for you in battle? I have seen a horse kick and bite but has he learned any other tricks? There is a woman here who seems quite skilled with animals, she was teaching her horse to throw the rider the last time we were here."

He paused and then said, "The Order of the Dragon sounds quite noble. Your oath is to the order and to your friends then, I presume that they are the something bigger than yourself you speak of, no?"

"A Knight and his horse are a partnership.  I know that Fleetheart will carry me out of battle should I be unconscious in the saddle."</darkgreen) Is about all he has to say on his relationship with his horse, but he is happy to expand on his oath.

<darkgreen>"Ah.  I have not explained myself well.  The Oath, my public vow if you prefer, is to no one.  It just is.  It serve to remind me of my goal and to focus  my thoughts should they wander.  The 'Bigger Thing' is the vow itself, in my case to protect, support and further the aims of my old colleagues as they invest in Restov.  The order itself is very informal.  We all have different oaths, we all have different purposes in life.  I know one member of the order who sometimes works against Restov and my friends.  I work to oppose him, in those circumstances, but I can still respect him for the oath he has made and adheres to.

"I hate to admit it, but having someone to haul me around when I get knocked unconscious would be more valuable than it likely should be." Cyrus says with a grin emphasizing the shared affinity they have for getting hit.

He listens to the description of the oath and the order, "I think that your Order is something I could get behind. I often thought my family had lost a sense of purpose and direction and feared that we would crumble without one, though what it should be hadn't made itself clear."

"Think carefully on it.  A lifetime commitment is not something to be taken lightly" the Knight replies.  "But enough of this for now, you need to make plans for the task you have been assigned. If nothing else, you need to know who will be travelling  with you."

"I will. I'm in the midst of another commitment of equal duration and though the two would be closely related, I would not make either on a whim. I am glad to have met you Ferdinand and I look forward to riding with you in the morning. What time do you begin your training sessions with Fleetheart?"

He paused and then before parting he said, "Do you have any words of wisdom for assaulting a fort? We were lucky last time that the inhabitants were all gone with one exception, this time we are facing at least a magic user and whatever henchmen she has in her employ, not to mention the tunnels below."

"Lets say 3 hours after dawn." Ferdinand suggests for the start of training, then smiles at Cyrus's next question  "I'm a cavalryman," he reminds Cyrus, "and we are not renowned for our ability to take fortresses.  Give me an open field any day of the week ..."

Cyrus nods his head acknowledging the meeting time and then laughs heartily as he leaves the cavalryman to his rounds.

He makes his way to the fire as all the talk has made him quite hungry and he wanted to check on Valoria's progress with the books.