For trail banter and inter-party hijinks happening during long hours on the road.

"You don't think Ahm a priestess, do you?"  The question came without warning, striking down out of the pale blue mountain sky.  "Do you, Lissa?"  In the shady brim of her hat, the look on Bunny Cotillion's face was nothing short of vexation.

"Ah cannot deny that Ah manifest these powahs.  And that Ah do believe they are connected in some way with Guyver.  But a priestess?"  She shook her head slow at the thought of it.  "Ah cannot say that Ah even pray.  That is to say, Ah have ideas.  They come to me.  But prayer?"  And again came the shake of her head.

"What do you think?"
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 01:47, Fri 10 Apr 2020.

Lissabytta walked quietly along side her companion, mostly listening.  But, after the young woman's appeal for advice, the blonde scholar knew that she had to say something.  Still, she was silent for pregnant moment.  "I can't really say that I am an authority on Guyver," she prefaced her remarks, her left hand instinctively moved to the small silver devotional symbol around her neck briefly, "but, what I do know is that each person is afforded the opportunity to exalt and worship their chosen in a manner they see fitting.  It is especially true of less ... rigid, less formal ... denominations.  Like the Silver Fox ... " and her hand touched the symbol another time, "... or your Guyver."

"Each is given their own method of honoring them." she noted with some tentativeness, but also a grain of authority - as though she'd read it in a trusted book or was speaking from her own experience on the matter.  "If you do works in his name - vocal or not - and receive power in his name," Lissa ventured more firmly, "then let the others debate the finer points of titles and doctrine.  Live and practice your faith."

She smiled slightly, it was a rather enigmatic, mischievous affair, "Enjoy yourself, Bunny.  Let your heart decided and tell you what you already know...."  If the girl was an acolyte and practiced the faith in her own way, then who was Lissa (or anyone else) to tell her otherwise.  If Bunny questioned her faith, then who was Lissa (or anyone else) to tell her that was wrong, as well.  But, this was hardly a true crisis of faith - it was a young woman questioning other people's perceptions of her.  To Lissa, neither Bunny nor herself could go against their Natures; but the blonde Rembaran scholar knew that someone calling Ms. Cotillion a 'pistol-priestess' was hardly going to rock the woman to her core...

A sigh heaved itself up from Bunny's chest.  It was in some part a tired resignation, and it was also in some part relief.  "That is largely how Ah mahself would lahk to see things, Lissa," she said.

"Ah suppose Ah find it hard, though, when otheh people say it."  This came after moments filled with little but the sounds of the mountains, the cart behind them, and the crunch of their own boot steps.  "Ah am who Ah am.  And Ah am comfortable with that.  But from otheh people ... Ah feel ... expectations."

Lissa smiled lightly, a slightly bemused expression touching her comely features, "Now is a little late to be too worried about the opinions of others, perhaps."  Her tone was playful and not at all reproachful, as the situation pertaining to their continued (immediate and long-term) survival was far further up the list of items to worry about than if you were called out as clergy for a deity that you well and truly believed in.

"I mean," the blonde scholar ventured as an item, "You're being chased fairly far afield by an extremely ... resolute ... posse of men.  Based on, what I would have presumed, a much more impactful decision on your part."  Lissabytta didn't know much of the story or the decision that had made Bunny flee, but in some ways she didn't need to.

Lissa was fairly familiar with being ostracized in many ways: she venerated a god that was not highly favored by her more rigid and closed-minded family and countrymen (to put it mildly - the individualistic, quasi-libertine attitudes of the Silver Fox were not regarded with sympathy or positivity by the stodgy order-driven Rembaran elite) and she'd done her part in forcefully (but, in no way fatally) warding off any untoward suitors.  A girl had to have her standards - and her plans - and arranged marriage wasn't part of them; so, her relationship with her parents wasn't always on the best terms.  And that was most of the time, nowadays.  But, ultimately, whether they or anyone else called her a 'witch', a 'bitch', or an 'itch on the armpit of the Fox' was their issue and not hers.

"I can't tell you how to feel, Bunny." she noted with seriousness and genuine concern, "But neither can anyone else.  You have to do what is right for you."  Then with a slightly lighter tone, "Yet you can't stop others from making their own assessments and having their own feelings..." it was every sentient being's prerogative, "and you are healer, do wield a gunpowder sidearm, and are an avowed worshiper of his Grace, the Tinkerer.  All of which just might just lead to the moniker 'pistol-packing, priestess of Guyver."

There was a slight shrug of dismissibility, as the erudite Rembaran archaeologist added idly, "Just sayin'..."

The smile could not be dampened, nor the chuckle suppressed.  "Ah suppose it all mahght lead to just that, Lissa."  And chuckle she did, mixing mirth with the resignation in her voice.  "When you put it that way, it would be difficult for folks see it any otheh way."

"Ah suppose it was simply the shock of hearin' it spoken out loud," she said, after the chuckling had died away.  "Ah had been on mah own for so long.  Marco was never much one for talkin'.  That was the first tahm Ah'd eveh heard mahself described as such."

"Thank you, Lissabytta.  Ah think Ah very much needed to talk to someone."

Claissa could sometimes be quiet by nature, but after spending a couple of days now in the company of this particular group, she was curious about them. Bunny and Lissabytta were in their own conversation, and Merrick had been quiet for a little while - plus Zassil was certainly the most exotic specimen in the party, even if he didn't tend toward an outright animal nature, and that made her curious too. So Claissa looked up from her occasional guidance of the mule and smiled at the large figure. "I didn't have a chance to ask you before, Zassil, where did you learn to draw? You're quite good at it."

"There's nothing wrong it, really." Lissa half-chided and half-commiserated with Bunny, adding only a little more playfully, "And you do get to decide what side of you people get to see..."  She didn't have to heal people.  Or carry her pistol out in the open.  There was some free will involved.

"You know, I once set one of my tutor's hairpieces on fire," the blonde scholar ventured off-hand, pausing just to see if is elicited any reaction from her walking companion, "Accidentally, of course ..." and the tone was genuine ... genuinely half-hearted, "It was one of the things that prompted my parents to ship me off to the Barrun Academy."  She looked at Bunny with a more somber expression, and a more serious tone, "But I never needed to flee from them.  Your father sounds like a real piece of work to send thugs after to you.  He must have done some pretty naughty stuff..."

She wasn't going to force Bunny to talk about anything that she didn't want to.  But, that didn't mean that Lissa wasn't curious.  Or that she wasn't going to offer her companion the chance to elaborate on her situation.  Marco may not have been a talker, but Lissabytta had never had any problems expressing herself vocally.

Hearing the tales of the Northerner's antics as a young girl, had drawn a smile to Bunny's lips.  But, like water dashed against printers ink, her smile sagged and ran at the mention of her father.  Quite a few measured steps passed before she spoke again.  Truly, it had seemed as though mention of her father had killed any further desire to converse upon their journey to the lair of the giant.  But, speak again she did.

"Daddy is a brilliant mechanist," she began, her voice so soft that one might have mistaken her words as a casually delivered comment to herself.  She drew in a breath then, and with a smile forced to her face she continued.  "You should have seen his creations.  M'ling was mah favorite.  Such loyal nobility.  You would be absolutely convinced that they were human, Lissa.  That ...  You see, that was Daddy's ultimate ambition.  To give them humanity."

At this point the road through which Bunny's tale lead appeared to grow dark, and cold, and treacherous, and she visibly mustered the courage to continue on.  "It is not an easy task.  Instillin' humanity in that which is mechanical in nature, Lissa.  Each success came so near, each was so hopeful, each glimmer of humanity was so dearly tender, that when it was found wantin' ... Well, it was devastatin'.  Oh, Lissa, it was so hard to see him in those times.  The disappointment seemed to hollow out his soul."

"With time, this changed him.  Ah could not tell you when Ah first noticed.  He became hard.  Cruel.  He devised all manner of cruelties designed to force these poor half-human creations into what could only be a mockin' semblance of humanity.  And when Ah discovered ... "  The horror had grown quickly in Bunny's voice, and when it crested, she forced a knuckle to her mouth where she bit down upon her own flesh as though to stem the tide of words.  Her progress veered from the path and ended at the side of the road where she hugged her arms to herself, sobbing uncontrollably.

Zassil perked up out of his watchful reverie and stepped a bit closer to the cart where Claissa was when she spoke to him. He looked at her for a long moment, considering, and then his head tilted to one side, with a small smile on his face as he answered. "Thank you for the compliment."

He regarded her as he continued, "I am not certain how much you know about my species, but once we acquire our scale color and reach the equivalent of adulthood, we no longer sleep. So Dracil tend to learn hobbies and skills that can be worked on to pass the time, especially when traveling with non-Dracil."

He gestured towards her, but included the two women walking ahead of her as well and Merrick if he was nearby and within an easy gesturable arc. "While you sleep for the night, I will remain awake, watchful and likely either drawing or carving wood for a bow. Likely, I will pick up more hobbies and skills as I go along, usually things I can do without making a lot of noise so as to not disturb others."

He scratched under his chin briefly. "But to answer the actual question, I learned when I was very young and had...difficulty making friends. It gave me something to do and take my mind off of things."

Lissa blinked in surprise at just how dark the conversation had turned in an instant.  The story startled her and it was obvious in her features and demeanor.  Her hand reached out to help steady her companion, as they both slowed and moved off to the side for a moment.  "Oh." the blonde scholar noted with discernible chagrin in her voice, "Oh, my ..."  Her hand touched the silver talisman at her throat.

She leaned in close and gave the young Guyver priestess a squeeze on the shoulder, "I am so sorry, Bunny."  Lissa swallowed hard, "So, so sorry.  I didn't mean to dredge up such horrible memories.  I am sure that your father never meant to hurt you.  Obsessions can be harrowing ... "  She shook her head, "And not necessarily for the person themselves, but the ones around them."  A deep sigh caused her light frame to shudder slightly and through pursed lips she muttered, "Collateral damage sucks."

"Did he threaten you?" she prompted, the concern and urgency genuine in her voice, "Or your mother?"

The sobs devolved into a few final hitched breaths as Lissa's hand fell upon Bunny's shoulder.  Bunny nodded, acknowledging the Northern Aristocrat's sympathy while at the same time attempting to control the knot into which tearful heartache had twisted her face.  "Ah ... Ah must look an awful red-eyed mess."  The wounded chuckle that accompanied those words presaged the beginnings of emotional composure.  But there were a few more soulful breaths and a few more swipes at tear-stained cheeks before she spoke again.

"Momma died years ago, Lissa.  She died givin' birth to me.  Or so Ah have been told.  Ah have only known her through the things that she has passed down to me.  One of them bein' this pistol that Ah carry."  With a final heavy sigh, Bunny continued along the road with the sun still shining above as though nothing at all had occurred.  "We had a very large paintin' hangin' over the mantle in the drawing room.  People tell me it was Momma.  She was a dark haired beauty," she said, and then continued on in silence with the remaining questions conspicuously unanswered.

Claissa nodded cheerily to Zassil's thanks, then said "I don't know much at all about them, that's interesting. Having a whole third of the day extra to learn how to do things... that's amazing, actually. The Dracil must have interesting parties. And you're a woodworker too, huh?"

She considered the much taller figure for a few moments, then said lightly "Would it be too rude if I said I was curious why you had trouble? You don't have to talk about it, it's just that you seem like an amiable sort."

Zassil spread his hands. "There are advantages to not sleeping, to be sure. But also...I miss dreaming sometimes." He glanced at Claissa. "Is that strange?" Then he smiled wistfully. "I used to dream of flying a lot. I would love to fly."

He corrected her. "Not...a woodworker per se. I am learning how to make bows, specifically. I one day want to make a Great Bow for myself." The way he said that made it sound like it might be a long time before that happened.

Then he looked down at the ground for a moment after her question. He pondered how to respond for a bit before answering her, almost to the point where she might have thought he wasn't going to respond. "Bear in mind, I am not old for a Dracil, but by the standards of some other races I am not young. I have had many years to get to where I am. My race is also known for treating other races with....well, I suppose the least condescending way I could put it would be gentle and with understanding, and that may still make me sound a touch arrogant."

He shook his head. "This may be hard to believe, but when I was young I was...a runt. Smaller than most of the other Dracil young. So I was picked on and bullied sometimes, left out of games, that sort of thing. I grew quickly right around the same time I gained my color, which helped. Also, after about the first forty or fifty years or so, even the meanest or silliest Dracil tend to mature some."

"Well," Lissabytta commiserated, a hand still gently touching the young woman's shoulder, "Hardly a mess..."  But then the thin, blonde Rembaran seemed to reconsider and amended playfully, "I mean, a good mess, at least..."  And slightly, crooked smile touched her burgundy lips.

She pursed her lips for the second time in the last thirty seconds or so as Bunny let her know that her mother had passed a long time ago.  "Oh, Bunny." Lissa winced and sighed ruefully, "I am sorry.  I... I didn't know."  The bookish scholar knew it was the lamest excuse that she likely could offer and for all her learning, she'd still been at a loss for words.  Her eyes darted to the pistol tucked in at young gun-mage's waist when it was mentioned.  "Then her legacy lives on, of sorts, as long as you carry her with you." she added, even though she knew it was still lame.

Her expression brightened slightly though as she continued walking along side, "And as long as you carry her in your heart; she'll never leave you."  And her head quirked to the side, as her fingers brushed her companion's dark tresses, "I bet you are the spittin' image."

"Oh, Lissa.  Ah gotta thank you so much."  These words rose up out of a few final sniffles and a heavy sigh.  "It was such a relief to just talk to someone about it all.  And ... and maybe to cry a little."  A weak smile drew itself below Bunny's eyes, still red and rheumy.  She turned that smile in the Northerner's direction as they continued up the road.  "Ah had not realized that Ah had all that buried insahd of me."

"Thank you."  On an impulse, the shorter woman closed the intervening space between them, and embraced the taller, burying her face in the blond Northerner's shoulder.  It was a brief thing, but filled full of the power of her emotions.  "Thank you, Lissa.  For listening.  And for bein' mah friend."

Then Bunny stepped back.  Grateful eyes under the brim of that hat, tipped back to show her face.  "Thank you," she repeated yet again.  And then, as though realizing for the first time their position in the march to the giant lair, she looked around Lissabytta at the others coming up from behind.  "Oh mah," she said, "what must they be thinkin'?"

"No, I don't think that's strange," Claissa said thoughtfully. "I didn't realize your people still dreamed when they did sleep... It seems sad to know that and then lose it. It's freeing to experience that sort of mad chaos every day." Perhaps that said something about Claissa's dreams that wasn't so universal, but oh well. She gave Zassil's wings a curious look, but didn't ask about them aloud. If he had some sort of disability, it would be unkind to ask.

She nodded as Zassil explained about making a greatbow down the road, then waited to see whether he would speak further when he went quiet. When he did, she looked sympathetic. "That's too bad. I'm glad you were able to get past that. Though now I'm curious again, if you got along well with your people, what led you to end up in a tavern with a bunch of smaller folk, and now traveling with them?"

As for the two ladies up ahead, Claissa was peripherally aware of them, but doing her best not to show it. It seemed like they were having an emotional discussion, and she didn't want to interrupt. Merrick would be welcome to join in her conversation with Zassil, but she didn't want to force it, and he'd been pretty quiet so far. She didn't know him very well yet, certainly not well enough to know whether it would be a good idea to try and draw him in while she was still getting to know another party member.

After a moment of hesitation, Lissabytta returned Bunny's embrace, holding the young woman in tightly and letting her bury her face in her shoulder.  "You're welcome..." the blonde scholar noted tentatively, finding the mood swings in her friend to be quite extreme, "I am sure that you would do the same for someone in pain."  In fact, she'd already seen the young lady volunteer her time and materials for the common good without a second thought.

She gave the slight raven-haired Bunny a wan smile, "I am sorry to have dredged up such painful memories.  You have survived so much, it doesn't seem right to make you relive it."  Lissa leaned in for a moment, "Still, if you ever need to talk about anything, I am here. You shouldn't need to feel the need to carry such a heavy burden alone.  Sometimes it simply helps to just have a sounding board."  Then she reiterated, "But only if you want to talk..."

With a backward glance at the wagon, Lissa saw Clarissa and Zassil conversing.  "They seem to be occupied with other things." she noted simply in reference to their other companions, "Besides, there's nothing scandalous going on."  At least, not as far as she could tell.  The young blonde scholar pushed up brim of her tricorne hat slightly, and shifted the weight of her musket to her other shoulder, adding with a slightly bemused expression, "They'll only be concerned if we neglect our duties as the vanguard."

She scanned the path ahead, as well as the sky and rises to each side.

It was a playful chiding - both herself and her companion, but had a streak of seriousness in it.  They did need to keep their eyes and ears open - lest they get ambushed.  The mountains were fair teeming with giant-kind and thugs alike; they'd encountered evidence of both just within the last day.

Zassil hesitated and his head cocked to the side. "I mean...I've never really asked another Dracil before. I just assumed since I did that everyone else did as well but I guess I can't say whether or not for sure that all Dracil dream." He frowned lightly in thought at that and resolved to ask when he went back home.

He looked back at her. "All Dracil leave home at some point once they get their color. We need to earn our Names, and then further our Names and renown." He spoke that as if that explained everything. "The best way to do that is to either soldier or adventure, or both. Almost all young Dracil do this."

"It would be strange if you were the only dreaming Dracil, but then stranger things have happened!" Claissa said with a smile. "So, you're furthering the name Zassil, then? That's interesting. The Dracil don't just form their own bands of soldiers and adventurers, though? Is the point to build your renown among non-Dracil?"

Zassil shook his head quickly and held up a hand. "Apologies, but either I did not explain that well or you have misunderstood me." He touched his chest. Zassil is my birth name, the name I was given by someone else. I need to earn a new name. A name earned by deeds is much more impressive, important and the desired achievement of all young Dracil. It is what earns us status in our society."

He spread his hands. "While it may seem strange to you as the name you were given at birth is the name you carry - but I want to be able to no longer be...Zassil." There was almost a note of disdain, or maybe regret, possibly something else, when speaking his own name. "I want to have a grand name. A worthy name. A name well earned. The reason I adventure with non-Dracil is to make sure I earn my own name with great deeds not tied to other Dracil. My accomplishments, my deeds, my name - all made alone or with allies that are worthy as well."

He looked at her. "Do you understand now, Claissa?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:16, Wed 07 June 2023.

It was hard to imagine that danger would dare to disrupt the day.  What with the sun being such a bright an brilliant force, and the sky being such a particular shade of blue.

Bunny's eyes scanned the road ahead, took in the landscape that rolled away to both sides.  She listened to the sounds of the mountain.  Birds calling out into the breeze that rode the mountain air.  "So, tell me about this Professor Benjamin Clarke of yours, Lissabytta.  Bit of an acquired taste, or so you have said.  Where is it that you know him from?"

"Aha! I thought you had no name before this. That explains it." Claissa mulled over what Zassil was saying. "I think I understand that. It's not the same with human names, but wanting to be known for your deeds and accomplishments instead of just the fact that you were born and you exist, sure. Or that you happened to be a tagalong when big things happened."

She gave him a considering look. "Do you pick your own name, but you don't get to use it until you feel you've earn it? Or is there some other dracil in charge of that? I mean... Does it bother you to be called 'Zassil'? I could start calling you something else now if you want."

(edited along with Zassil, thank you for doing that :))
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Sat 25 Apr 2020.

"Ah," Lissa grew slightly wistfully at the mention of Professor Clarke and slight smile touched her lips, "Professor Chester Benjamin Clarke was my advisor and mentor at the Barrun Academy.  He's been tenured for a very long time."  She brushed an errant lock of blonde hair from her face to tuck behind her ear, "He's quite well known... " the erudite Rembaran noted, "Though I suppose only in academic circles."

"A brilliant man ... an impeccably meticulous investigator...  generous to a fault and always quite well-funded." she continued as though partly reminiscing and partly reciting from a script, which then veered a touch off-course, "And with his set of peculiarities and eccentricities."  Lissa paused for a moment, as though measuring her words... or perhaps just coming up short.  "Though respected in the scientific community for his technical expertise," apparently it seemed necessary for her to preface her remarks, "Professor Clarke espouses a set of views on the origin of civilizations on the continent that are.... controversial at best.  Some consider him a crackpot."

Lissa took a deep breath and looked off into the distance, not quite making eye contact, "Professor Clarke believes that the Great Cataclysm was a gigantic wave of Undead and Necromantic power that gave rise to all of the great nations in some shape or form."  She pursed her lips, since when Clarke spoke of it, it always sounded so much better, "He has spent many years digging around in tombs and ruins looking for evidence, often tantalizingly close."

She turned to look at her walking companion, "This is one of those expeditions."  Then with genuine earnestness, Lissabytta prompted, "You still in?  Still interested?"

Zassil gave the equivalent of a smile towards her. "That sounds like the sum of it. Birth names...are still special for most species, and even Dracil - it is the only name we have for ourselves for many years, after all."

At her question he seemed to size her up a bit more. She seemed genuinely curious. Most non-Dracil aside from scholars were rarely interested for very long. "When the tale or tales of their deeds reaches the dracil's village, they are called back home for the naming ritual, which is a week long."

He chuckled, "And yes, they select their new name themselves. Often the name is associated in some way to the deeds they performed. Some Dracil change their name completely, others add a second part to their birth name." He shrugged. "It's up to the individual."

He held up a hand, "No, no, Zassil is fine. You should call me that as for now it is my name. I have earned no other yet."

"Well, Ah most certainly am interested."  The reply, as earnest as it was, had that small hanging note that implied there were misgivings.  "Seems to me, though, that there mahght be a certain amount of danger involved.  Am Ah rahght?  Most particularly, if your Professor Clarke's theories turn out to be correct.  Seems to me, that would have to be quite a bit of necromantic power."

"What exactly is it that you studied under Professor, Clarke, Lissa?  You aren't a necromancer by chance, are you?"

"Wow, how interesting! I had no idea of any of this." Claissa was clearly not just trying to be polite, her bright green eyes were practically shining with fascination. "I think I'm getting the picture. So when the tales of your deeds are widespread enough to get back to your home village, then they let you know to come back for the ritual." She thought some more. "Have you given any thought to what you want to be known for, or your new name? Or are you letting fate decide that?" The question was partly meant for Zassil specifically, and partly curiosity about how his people in general approached this journey.

"A necromancer?!?" Lissabytta seemed shocked for a moment, and then a bemused chuckle emanated from her smile.  "Oh no, the Fox forfend! No, no, no..." the young blonde Rembaran chuckled and a shake of the head, "Professor Clarke is not a practitioner of the magical arts at all; I learned that from others ...  He's a pure academic through and through.  Says it gives him a purely objective eye." and with a fairly curt node of the head she did have to agree, "And it does allow him to be more dispassionate about the evidence and conclusions..."

Lissa shrugged, "And unless the man is an extremely good dissembler ..." which her tone seemed to imply that she'd find it very difficult to believe, "Professor Chester Benjamin Clarke is not out to prove his theory for nefarious, power-mongering reasons."

"No any strange quirkiness about him is purely mundane." which Lissa seemed more than willing to concede that Clarke might display, "I mean, he does find old rocks and old stories fascinating..."

Zassil looked over at the human and smiled, letting out a small belly laugh. "No, of course not! I have no idea what great deeds I will do, which is why I am adventuring!" He waved a hand. "I mean, of course, like most beings, I sometimes day dream or fantasize about vague epic situations I might find myself heroically defeating..." He shrugged. "But the reality is that what will come will come and I shall have to wait and see what, if any, great deeds I am a part of."

He was quiet for a moment, likely thinking, before he spoke again. "Would it be alright I asked you a question, Claissa?" He paused and waited for her agreement before continuing.

Claissa chuckled along with Zassil, then said lightly "Well, you never know - even wanting to be 'Zassil the Slayer' versus 'Zassil the Peacemaker' is a big choice you can act on now, right? But I get what you're saying." She was still smiling as she looked up at Zassil when he asked about asking her a question. "Oh sure, of course. What's on your mind?"

"Not that necromancy is in and of itself necessarily a thing of evil, you understand."  Following on the heels of her most recent outpouring of emotion, the conversation seemed to be back onto an even keel.  "Much in the way of your average firearm - yours or mahn, as a for instance.  The good or bad of things is in the use to which one chooses to put them."

"Your Benjamin Clarke sounds like an interestin' character.  Very much a seeker after truth.  Ah look forward to meetin' him, Lissa."

"But ... have you considered ... "  And there was some hesitation before Bunny continued on.  "Have you considered that there is some knowledge that should remain undiscovered?  There are some things that should not be known?  As innocent as is your Professor Benjamin Clarke, there might still yet be someone else out there, somewhere, who might take his discoveries and bend them for these nefarious, power-mongering reasons that you mentioned?"

Zassil shook his head. Then looked at her with his head cocked to the side. "Have I struck you thus far as particularly much of a peacemaker?" He grinned at her and then shrugged. "I'm more of a warrior."

Then he became more solemn. "Well, the most obvious thing - I wanted to know if you would be willing tell me how you came to befriend a tiger? I'm not sure if you know, but that's not really a commonplace sort of thing."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:16, Wed 29 Apr 2020.

Lissa seemed extremely pleased that Bunny was still willing to accompany her and Professor Clarke.  "I think that you will like him." the blonde musketeer posited happily, perhaps to convince herself as well, "The Professor is a sweetie.  An often eccentric, sometimes absent-minded, and purely obsessive sweetie."

She simply nodded and smiled, though the smile was a touch crooked and more than a touch mischievous in bent, when her companion pointed out that not everyone was as academically motivated as Chester Clarke was.  "Well," the young Barrun scholar freely admitted, "That's why we are accompanying him..."  She turned to look at Bunny for a long moment with a rather serious demeanor, "It's better that we find any of that 'stuff' before they do."

Then the more nonchalant demeanor returned as her eyes returned to the path stretching out before them, "As you noted, it's how you use the tool ..."

"Actually, yes," Claissa answered Zassil's question with a smile. Her light tone made it hard to say if she was entirely serious. "Peace often comes at the tip of a sword. It's not as though you came to the inn and immediately torched it - the place is peaceful right now partly because of you, don't you think?"

She reached down and gently ruffled the fur on top of Niri's head, and the young tiger made a little chuffing sound as she pushed her head up against the touch. "That's a fair question, though I don't really have a scholarly answer for you. I grew up next to a jungle, and I've always been connected to it. I'm pretty sure that's where my magic comes from, too." She gave Niri one more pat and straightened back up, then smiled up at Zassil. "Niri isn't some magical construct or servant or anything, though. We just kind of met up and became fast friends. Maybe she can tell through that connection that I'll take good care of her? I mean, I recognize not just anyone that loves animals can go into the jungle and come out with a tiger traveling companion." Depending on what sort of culture Zassil came from, it might be obvious that Claissa was intentionally not using the word "pet," though it wasn't out of a conscious effort on her part. She just didn't think of Niri in that category.

A sigh escaped from Bunny into the impossibly clear morning sunlight.  It was almost hard to believe that evil existed when the sun was out, and the sky was such a magnificent blue.  "It is not the They that Ah worry about, Lissa.  Good people can go bad."  She swooped down and scooped a rock up off the road, feeling the weight in her hands.  Drawing back an arm, she fired that rock at a nearby tree stump, hearing the thump of wood as it struck home.  "And even if they don't go bad.  All it takes is one mistake.  One error in judgement."

"But don't you mind me," she said in apology.  "Ah have grown bitter and caustic, turnin' me into a person unpleasant to be around."

Bunny Cotillion rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Rock Throwing (Improvised weapon). vs DC10.

Zassil let out a small chuckle and shook his head at her optimism regarding peace and warriors. "If you say so." But he let that go, far more interested in her answers about the tiger that came soon after.

He listened intently to her as she spoke about the jungle and Niri. He gave a slow nod but didn't interrupt when she explained what the tiger wasn't. He smiled and gave another, this time agreeing, nod about how not everyone could just befriend a tiger. Or the majority of large predators.

"Hmm. Interesting. So no magic, just friendliness and apparently the appearance of bad digestion for a tiger." That was said with much amusement in his voice.

He looked down at the tiger. "Is that true, Niri? Can you just tell Claissa will take good care of you?" He spoke that seriously though there was a hint of amusement on his face.

Lissa listened to Bunny's tirade and then apology with a slightly bemused expression playing on her face.  "Ah," she noted when the silence started to stretch, "You are worried about us...." the light smile never left her lips, "That is why I am glad that you are with me.  We both can keep an eye out."

"One of the main reasons that I am less worried about you," the blonde musketeer noted easily and with genuine earnest, "Is that you ask just such questions."  Her slight frame shuddered slightly as she took in a deep breath, "The Price of Freedom is Eternal Vigilance."

Lissabytta wasn't always the best judge of character (least her own, sometimes), but that didn't stop her from trying.  And that is what she hoped would carry her through - Evil flourished when Good did nothing.  Which she'd always interpreted as trying to do something was better than doing nothing.  Of course, fidgety as she was, Lissa had never been very good at doing nothing.

Bunny's self-pity forced Lissa out of her own reverie.  With a light chuckle, she mock-punched her companion's shoulder, "I like you just fine, Ms. Cotillion.  No bitterness at all that I can detect... Just a pungent prudence."

Claissa looked over curiously when Bunny unexpectedly spiked a rock into a tree stump, then gave a soft giggle of her own as Zassil spoke. Meanwhile, Niri gave him a half-curious, half-bored look when Zassil spoke to her as she padded along next to Claissa, then gave the sorceress a more expectant look. Claissa obediently bent down to rub her head again.

"I'm afraid Niri's still working on her Common," Claissa said lightly. "But wouldn't it be nice to be able to talk to animals? I've heard there are some that really can, I envy that. Maybe someday I'll be able to learn it too. It would be great to know just what was on Niri's mind. At least I know her well enough that I can usually guess." She giggled again. "For example, she's almost always up for eating."

She finished petting Niri and straightened up to look at Zassil again. "Do the Dracil ever keep companion animals, or pets? Have you?"

Zassil smiled at the tiger but shook his head. "But does Niri...not understand Common? Or just understand you? Or just can't speak Common?" He spoke with with a very serious-sounding voice and a far-too-innocent look on his face. He was definitely teasing one or both of them.

Then he looked normal-serious. "There is magic for speaking with animals, of course." He said that with confidence. Or knowledge. "And druids can do so as well, I think." That was said with less certainty.

To her question, he gave a kind of half-shrug and nodded. "Oh, certainly. I wouldn't say it's extremely common, but it is not unheard of or even rare I don't think." He smiled at Niri. "Nothing as exotic as a tiger, of course. But it would depend on where the Dracil was raised or where they came across an animal. Much in the same way I expect most members of most races would get a pet - found, purchased, befriended."

He hesitated. "Would it...be alright for...me...to pet Niri?" He seemed to be looking at both Claissa and Niri for that.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Wed 07 June 2023.

"She speaks Tiger, she's still working on Common," Claissa said lightly. "Although I think most of that is just our being able to read each other after spending so much time together. Do the Dracil have many people that can talk to animals? You sound like you have firsthand experience with that kind of thing."

She nodded as Zassil talked about Dracil having pets. "That's nice. I think animals add a lot to a life." She gave a considering look between him and Niri after that. "Niri's had an exciting couple of days... She likes pets if she's in the right mood, you have to be careful she doesn't get grumpy or feisty about it though. How about you let her sniff her hand first, and we'll see how she takes it."

"Well, Ah thank you, Lissa."  A sigh escaped the dark-haired gun-girl, and she dispelled it by swooping down to pick another stone up off the road.  "Eternal Vigilance."  She hefted that stone, weighing thoughts in her head even as she weighed the stone in her hand.

"So, Lissa, let us say that our vigilance has slipped.  Or, maybe not us.  Someone has let their vigilance slip.  Things have gone very terribly wrong.  The forces marshaled against us are overwhelmin'.  Allies are few, and as powerless as we."  She lofted the stone, tossing it in an arc from one hand to the next.  "Do we run away, Lissa?"  She asked.  "Do we run away?  Or do we stand and fight, knowin' that we stand a very good chance of dyin' in the process?"

Zassil looked from Claissa to Niri and almost looked sad as he spoke once more. "I see. Well, I have not learned how to speak 'Tiger' yet, so I suppose conversation with Niri is off the table for now." He then let out a small chuckle and smiled to show he had been mostly joking. Mostly.

To her question, he pondered for a moment. "While I can't say strictly that I have firsthand knowledge, I know magic makes such things possible." He frowned as he searched for the right words. "Most Dracil are taught about magic growing up, to one degree or another, usually at least some basic ideas and knowledge, and we seem to have a greater propensity for magic than some races. Though, just like other races, many Dracil do not practice or have any ties to magic at all." He switched back to her question, "So I have heard about magic that allows for speaking with animals. And other types of creatures, for that matter. Or just the languages of other sentient races that you don't know the languages of."

He looked at nothing for a moment, looking to the future in his mind's eye. "One day, perhaps, I will have access to such magic."

He nodded at her caution about Niri. The last thing he would want is to upset the tiger or get bitten or anything. After a moment, he shook his head. "I will wait then. I am new to you and her both. Perhaps once we have been traveling together for a while, she will come to think of me as a friend of yours and hers."

Lissa smiled slightly, though it was a rather distant, distracted affair.  "Well," she ventured after a momentary pause, "if one of us were to falter - then the other needs to help them back up."  Her slight frame shuddered slightly as she took in a deep breath.  "No one intends to fail." the blonde scholar noted idly, but her tone conceding that intention and results were not always in alignment.

"But" Lissabytta noted sans any rancor, "as with any hypothetical situation, the details matter... how far, what is involved ... when, where... " and she ticked off various random factors, "... who... "  The erudite musketeer stopped herself and refocused her attention, "Yet, it is no different than this very moment.  How do we know that there isn't already someone else that had faltered and that we are fighting for our lives, Bunny?  Or at least we should be..."  She didn't seem to be dismissing Bunny's question, but merely noting that the choice to run or fight - that something greater than all of them was coming to destroy them - was a potential threat at all times.

"Look, I... I don't really care for the 'no win situation' ..." she mused, but her tone conceded that both she'd obviously thought about it and that it was a real possibility in the wide world, "and I would say that survival is always preferable.  It allows one to fight another day."  Lissa turned to face her companion briefly, "There isn't any shame in turning tail when necessary.  Dying foolishly, without reason or cause when you have the choice is more of a shame to me ..."  And Lissabytta hedged her bets, she appeared to like to leave her options open.

She turned to look up the road again, "But, you don't always get the choice."   And there was that little shrug again.