I was caught a bit off guard when Andraste approached. He never seemed at all interested in speaking to me. I do appreciate the warning though. Stupid Dark Elves, to hell with all of them. Constantly making my life so much harder.

So it will be like everywhere else I go. Thank you for the warning. I’ll do my best to draw as little attention as possible.

I look down at my armor and push my will upon it. It changes, slowly at first then quicker as I visualize what I want. Within moments what was black studded leather armor is now a gown, pink and silk with lace and a hooded cape. I pull the hood up over my head. Keeping in my goggles.

There that should help. Why was the town attacked? Were the Dark Elves looking for something or someone?

I want to pepper him with more and more questions but we can start here. This conversation will not only help get me answers but pass the time until we get to this Vertigo place.

That is fantastic! I wonder what other clothes she can make? Is it an illusion or do her clothes actually change? "What a useful ability. That must be very convenient"

I step back a pace and incline my head to her, "I imagine you have not had an easy time here on the surface. I commend you for your determination and resolve. I know few people who would willing endure what you have for so long. Your father is a lucky man to have such a devoted daughter."

I pause for a moment to consider her questions. "As far as we know, the drow sent four raiders to take a strange necklace from a scavenger. Apparently, she found the necklace in the ruins of an old wizard's crypt a week's travel north of town. We were fortunate, while there were some serious injuries no one died in the raid and we were able to defeat three of the four raiders. The drow trapped and collapsed the tunnel they used to launch their attack so we do not know where they went afterwards."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:01, Sat 29 Aug 2020.

Thank you, my Glamoured has been very useful to me, even saving my life, for a very long time now. A gift, from my father. I’m very lucky to been found by him. He bought me...my freedom, I mean. He taught me so much and brought me places to learn what I could do and who I can be. He freed me to be me. Sorry, I get like this when I talk about him.

Why am I sharing so much. I hardly know Andraste.

You’ve been wait to share this with someone, continue. It’s good for you.

Drow lazily tells me, jumping off my shoulder and bouncing from spot to spot, trailing her black mist.

As for the surface, I only know life up here. I was brought up by merchants, I was born in the Underdark but taken when I was an infant and brought up to the surface. Then I was sold, a few times I think. Eventually I was sold to a thieves guild where I was a servant or slave depending on who you ask, until my father found me.
Sorry about all the questions but a few times in my life a Dark Elf hunting parry has come looking for me. Supposedly to take me home but I’m damn well not going with them. Glad it wasn’t about me this time. Good no one died and you were able to send them scurrying back into their holes.

I realize I’ve been keeping my eyes forward the whole time, to keep from looking at her. I picked this habit up as to not give anything away with small facial movements. It’s not a good habit when I’m trying to be honest and friendly. I’ll have to work on that. So I turn to look at her directly.

So I’ve been talk too much about me. Tell me about yourself, Andraste Giltris.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:33, Sat 29 Aug 2020.

I pause for a moment, where should I start? I suppose I should start at the beginning and proceed through the middle to the end. "I was born before the Cataclysm, my mother left me with my father when I was very young and he raised me alone in a mostly human city. I was just reaching adulthood when the Cataclysm struck; my father and I barely escaped that city before its destruction. He....died not long after and I had to make my own way for awhile in the Wilderness before I was rescued by a priest of Rao and for a while we traveled together." As  I think of Bodmoli I reach up with my right hand and gently run my fingers over my pendant.

"Eventually I settled in a great city to the south, Eternis, and I served her for nearly 50 years. I remember the first time I saw that magnificent city, its white walls shining in the morning light as the sun crested the valley walls; it was the first time I felt safe in months. Truly, it is the only place I have felt safe since my father died. Anyway, I worked in the city government, helping people establish themselves and begin again; however, that became increasingly difficult as the cities population reached its capacity to support itself and I felt I was no longer helping people as I once had. So when a friend of mine got himself into trouble and fled town I decided to follow him, help him if I could. So I gave away my home and those possessions I was not bringing with me to those who needed them, said goodbye to my friends, and walked out into the Wilderness after him. Once I find him and make sure he is alright, I intend to stay out here and help as many people as I can."

I pause for a moment as memories of loved ones and places flash through my mind: Rolland as a young man looking sheepish after getting caught making advances on an engaged women, sparring with Kaleb and Edish in the Guard's practice yard, the view out my office window to the street outside bustling with busy people going about their lives, and the life leaving my father's eyes as he died in my arms in some long forgotten wheat field. I take a deep breathe before continuing, "I am sorry, I am sure I told you more then you wanted to hear. Let me see if I can put it another way." I stop for a moment longer and the lyrics of a song come to mind and I smile, "I've known hardship and known joy. Felt the sunshine and the rain pour. And now I seek to go home once more."

As I walk next to her, a thought occurs to me. "You said your father rescued you from the thieves guild. Is he your adopted or biological father?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:30, Sun 30 Aug 2020.

Adopted, my father is a human. Ryder Hakken, the thief of hearts. He gave me his family name and I named myself Zail. The thieves of the guild called me Drow. I actually believed that was my name for most of my life. That’s why I named Drow her name. I carried it so long I had to put it somewhere and she thinks it’s funny. I’ve never met my birth father or mother or any of them.

I rarely ever think about my birth family. It’s weird I guess, some many people put so much thought on my birth place and I barely think about it.

You didn’t share too much. I find it fascinating how beings who live like us, before the “Cataclysm” survive and continue on. I’m sorry your father is gone. I’m glad you were saved and found purpose. It’s good to have purpose in lives as long as ours. It’s funny our lives are kinda similar, I was just reaching maturity when the world ended. Everything was finally going good and then... Anyway, I don’t think I could give all I have away like you did. That’s impressive. I had so little growing up that I treasured all the I had. None of it survived the Cataclysm so everything I own I carry. You seriously live by your principles, that’s commendable. I just survive, day to day. I’ve tried to enter towns but it all ends the same. Once they see I’m a Dark Elf I get chased out. Now I go to a town and take what I need, food, water, stuff like that and try to leave as soon as I can. At least this time I got a warning of what to expect. Thanks again, Andraste.

I smile at her, a real sincere smile. I can’t remember the last time I actually smiled at another person. Here in this Cataclysm she calls it. Will wonders never cease. Drow leaps up to a beach and back into my shoulder. I swear sometimes she’s smiling at me.

Thorn was astounded, nearly stunned. Twice. First, that not one but two people who had met less than a cycle ago would confide their life stories. She wasn’t at all sure she trusted herself as much as they appeared to believe in each other. After all, her decisions didn’t always serve her best interests in the long-term. As illustrated so vividly by her current situation. But more than that, they both appeared buoyed by revealing their vulnerabilities. It simply defied comprehension, and she quickly abandoned her futile effort to do so.

But if possible, even more staggering were Zail’s words. “Not a Drow,” she heard herself murmur in a vain attempt to process this information. She felt quite the fool for not even countenancing the possibility earlier, but it would explain much. Why Zail’s father was on a mission for his guild. The nearly incomprehensible speed of her Common. And the general impression Thorn couldn’t shake of the young elf – of strong but brittle iron rather than tempered steel.

If this were so, not needing to watch her more closely than the others would reduce Thorn’s burden. Yet the story seemed wrong or at least lacking in essential information. She found herself unexpectedly inclined to believe that Zail told the truth as she understood it, but Thorn wouldn’t feel at ease until she could clarify some essential details. Because the possible explanations which came most readily to mind for these irregularities were . . . troubling.

She had no idea how to approach the necessary conversation. If nothing else, the past week had taught her that she communicated even more poorly than she had supposed. Yet as she strategized, the part of her mind always alert for danger kept watch for enemies and sent Aisling forth to scout the area ahead.

Insight (Zail): 13
Perception: 11
Aisling's Perception: 7, 12
This message was last edited by the player at 17:22, Sun 30 Aug 2020.

"If you give me your word that you will not steal from them, I will happily vouch for you with the town leaders. I have some good will with them that may help. Otherwise all I can offer is my companionship while we are both in town."

As Andraste left his side to strike a conversation with the young dark elf, Zail, Sand ended pretty much alone in front. Not wanting bad surprises, he sent Scamp to scout the way forward and continue to look for what might stop the procession. Fortunately, his previous path was still usable so he didn’t have too much to do. Erik had been following all the members of the procession, imitating their way of walking, before dropping on all four and using a curious gait with his shield. Sand looked at the man when he approached and nodded to him.

Sand can fix shield too. How long has shield been damaged?

His eyes flashed briefly, as he estimated that it had been quite some time since that shield had seen a forge. All of the man’s possessions were old and in disrepair. Which got him thinking.

Sand is wondering. How long has Erik been alone? Sand was alone for many months, before finding Vertigo. That’s why Sand built Clacker and Scamp found Sand in smoke. So Sand would not be alone.

He looked at the man-beast, nodding, his way of smiling.

Scamp perception 20, 14, with advantage

Erik had once again been up toward the front with Clacker when Sand approached him. He returned the first nod with one of his own. He like communicating with Sand, it was easier than with the others. He looked down at his shield with an expression of confusion. He had never thought of it as damaged before. As far as he could recall it had always been beat up to some extent or other. Sure it had picked up a lot more knicks, scrapes, dings, and dents with his continued use and abuse of it but it was never a pretty thing. His thoughts flashed back to the man who had thought to rescue a child years ago. A man who's limbs and torso in seperate places had quickly been made to resemble the abused shield's appearance when a few of Granny's more unscrupulous allies had got in his way. A shiver ran through him and he blinked slowly while swallowing. It was one of the few things he had that hadn't belonged to his father.

How long had it been now? At least a handful of moons probably more. Erik watched a small beetle crawl up along the shield now that it had stood still for a time. He reached his hand down extending a finger and letting the thing crawl into his hand looking at it. It was like a much smaller much less mechanical version of the one Sand had built. He looked back up at Sand and moved his hand and the beetle toward the metal man's face.

"Never alone. Have  many ... friends around always." His eyes moved to track a bird that wasn't someone's familiar as it flew overhead briefly.

But that's not what Sand had meant. Erik continued moving, pressing the shield into the ground as he kept pace with the cart and its owner. He put the beetle back down letting it scurry away as he thought. "Long time since I talk like this, hard to remember. Moons and moons... Months. Ye - years? Years since father gone. Gr..."

Slowly he undid the strap that was barely hanging onto the shield as he shuddered a bit. This metal man had offered to listen and repair his things, the least Erik could do was try. "Granny..." He suppressed an urge to start running but his eyes darted around scanning the whole area. "She learn me to talk new way new words. Not my words, not father's words. Not these words. Long time. Animals talk easier. With animals all time always since little. Good with animals. Become animal. Talk like animal, live like animal. Easier to... To forget..."

He offered the shield to Sand and whispered. "Animals don't care I am.." it became so quiet it was almost impossible for even himself to here. "Erik is,   monster."

He let that sit for a moment as tears glistened in his eyes. He wiped at them and looked back toward Thorn who had just joined the conversation with the others behind Sand and himself. What had happened to her on his behalf was by far one of the least of things he counted himself guilty for but it was one more thing. He couldn't bare dwelling on it and quickly changed the subject.

"Sand make things. Sand make Clacker? How to make Clacker? Very smart he is."

Sand took the offered shield and looked at it. The scratches and bumps on it showed lots of usage, and the druid habit of walking on the side of it had started to splinter the wood on the edge. Turning it over, he saw that the leather arm band was about to get ripped in half.

Much work is needed on shield. Can Erik help Sand to not fall off the path? Sand will need to concentrate.

The construct reduced his pace, Clacker also slowing down. Using his spear as his focus, he concentrated on the splintered wood on the side. Muttering softly, while sliding a finger on the zone to repair, he nodded when he saw the fibers starting to knit together. A minute after, he went for the almost torn leather, and fixed that too. The most pressing repairs done, he handed the shield back. Erik had talked during the repairs and Sand needed to respond.

Sand happy that Erik is not alone. No one should be alone. Erik can talk with animals? That is a very useful thing to know. Sand would have needed that talent when Sand was bringing long legged animal… what was name again… ponies… yes that is name. Ponies are very stubborn.

Erik talked about what seemed to have been a very difficult part of his life, with someone named Granny. The construct listened, interrupting only once to repair a part of the path that had crumbled.

Erik is no monster. Erik had difficult time. Erik showed and help friends, fought screamer dead that walk. That one is monster. Erik not a monster. Monster not help.

The conversation moved to Clacker. Again the question about how the construct had built the defender. He shook his head.

When Sand alone, Sand had defended ponies against animals with long tooth, and almost lost. Animal injured so Sand had to stop in ruins. Sand was thinking on how to defend animals and Sand saw pile of metal. Plans for Clacker appeared in Sand’s head. Sand not know where plans come from. Sand not know where Sand learned Althaea’s language, not the one that Erik fears, another. Sand knows much… Sand knew about screamer dead that walks.

He looked at the druid, his face always as inexpressive.

Sand knows much. But Sand not know where knowledge comes from.

Erik watched in amazement as the wood of the shield and the leather strap came back together in Sand's hands. He took his job seriously and darted in front of Sand once to move a small roor that might have been in the way, but more than likely wouldn't have been an issue.

He listened and shook his head when Sand denied his monstrousness. The metal man just didn't know everything Erik had let happen. Sure he helped THIS group but it was probably the first redeemable thing he had truly done for another person in a long time and he'd already gone back on that... But he wouldn't argue. He wouldn't dwell on more, not now. Instead he took back his newly repaired shield and gave it a few test taps on the ground. It bore his weight much better now.

As Sand talked about Clacker's making Erik extended a hand toward the large metal beetle and tentatively touched one of the sheets that made up his metallic exoskelatoid shell.

"Can talk to animals, can talk to other creatures." His eyes looked at the heaps of meat and hide the hunters had gathered from the owlbear. He understood the need to provide but it didn't fully help the fact that a creature that could think and act and even communicate with those who knew how to listen had died.

He looked away. And shrugged. "Sometimes knowing  things better than knowing ... How  you know. Sand has help me a lot. If want to know more, Erik, I can    help Sand find out." He tapped his fingers against his own skull. "But need to find father too. If see tattoo man like this. Tell Erik is looking."

With that he seemed to run out of things to say and focused on walking and enjoying or at least tolerating the presence of others walking along with him. It was different. But in a good way. Of course, the close they got to the mountain the more nervous he started to seem. Not a scared nervousness like he had when they'd approached the grove but definitely feeling I unease.

Try to understand, I steal these days out of need. I would have paid for whatever I wanted but was rarely give the chance. Since you’ll vouch for me And if they listen I won’t steal anything, even the stuff I would just like to have. Plus since you guys are stuck with me maybe I can even have a chance to earn a decent reputation. I’ll always take companionship since Drows probably sick of listening to just me all the time.

This is the most I’ve talked to another person in years. It’s not as bad as I remember it, or I’m not as bad at talking to people. I hope this town is further away.
I assume she’s still watching me. Especially since we’re not that far from her and we’re carrying on. Some fun...I turn my head quickly.

You know, Thorn is it? You can talk to us. I don’t bite...hard.

I smile, mischievously.

"I think I understand, it must have been very difficult out here on your own." Memories of those awful days after my father's death, before I met Bodmoli surface. The desperation as my supplies dwindled and I was forced to return back to populated areas. "I will happily vouch for you and hopefully they will give you the opportunity to prove yourself and for them to move passed any prejudice. But if not you need not be alone if you do not wish it for I would be happy to share your company regardless of what they decide."

She could talk to them certainly. Whether she should was another issue entirely. However, the young elf seemed to be in a garrulous mood and perhaps it was best to converse with Giltris present. Most people seemed to respond well to her and she could potentially mitigate whatever damage would invariably occur when Thorn opened her mouth.

She motioned them back, away from the hunters, and spoke in a low tone. "I believe your story, Zail. But what you say about Drow pursuing you is uncharacteristic and therefore concerning. If you would answer some questions, I may be able to offer insight into their motivations and thus what else we might expect."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Tue 01 Sept 2020.

I face Andraste, she has been very kind to me. Kinder then most. Does she have a motive, aside from friendship.

How many? How many possible friendships have you ruined with this line of thinking? She’s being nice, accept it.

(Thanks Drow, what would I do without you.)

Thank you Andraste. I am very lucky to have met you. I would be happy with your companionship too.

An honest smile, I getting to like them. I turn my attention over to Thorn.

First, thanks for believing me. I know how it sounds. Honestly, I don’t know if I would believe me either. To explain why I’m so worried about a Dark Elf hunting party, it’s a story but I’ll try to make it quick. My father brought me to a wizard once he realized I had potential for magic use. The bastard wizard, named Reddoran, was also a Dark Elf. From him I learned spells, elvish, and most importantly how to summon Drow.

She nuzzles me and I stroke her head.

Though, for all I learned and all time we spent together with his lessons he still turned on me. He used my blood and his dark elf magic to find my birth family. Apparently I’m a “first born matron daughter.” I have no idea what that means. All I know is it’s a thing in Dark Elf culture because he wanted to use that information to get himself into some position of power. The son of a bitch actually captured me and tried to contact them. Luckily Drow found my father and freed me and killed the stupid wizard. After we escaped the Dark Elves burnt his home to the ground when they realized I was gone. They occasionally pop up asking questions about me. So I’ve always got one eye out for them. They’ll never take me down some dark hole...alive. I don't know if that helps you at all.

Beneath the shadow of her hood, Thorn raised a brow. "Some dark hole? I confess I rather hope you call it that next time a hunting party locates you. I believe the reaction would be," she paused to search for the proper word "enjoyable."

Zail had provided more information than Thorn expected. Though odd, her story seemingly corresponded to the best case scenario Thorn had envisioned; better than her being the last scion of a fallen House and unequivocally superior to Drow - perhaps even multiple factions - pursuing her due to prophecies or portents.

"Being born to a Matron Mother means you are a noble," she explained. "Which makes how you ended up with merchants something of a puzzle. Given that you are the eldest daughter,  intrigue amongst consorts is possibly the most likely - though definitely not the only - explanation. Regardless, the dark elves will probably continue attempting to capture or persuade you as long as your Matron lives. However, once her authority weakens and one of your sisters assumes control, she will almost certainly be obliged to send assassins after you. Under these unique circumstances, I suspect that whether any attempts on your life will be pro forma or in deadly earnest depends on her personality, the situation within the House and, above all, the Goddess' will."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Thu 03 Sept 2020.

Scamp came back from his scouting and imparted the information gleaned to it’s master, hooting and dancing on the shell of an annoyed Clacker. But that was only cosmetic, the real communication was mental and Sand saw what his familiar had seen. He then called for an halt and walked towards the back of the line.

Scamp saw tracks going this way and that way

He pointed towards the East and West axis.

About a quarter mile that way. Tracks looks older, but path often used. Not human track, have claws to them, not too heavy.

Thorn appreciated Sand's timing - it gave her an excuse to depart before Giltris or Zail could question her. And whether or not the trail proved relevant, no harm was likely to result from examining it. She nodded to Sand and inquired, "Has anyone asked the hunters about it?" before turning to Erik, "Shall we?"

Survival: 18
This message was last edited by the player at 04:21, Thu 03 Sept 2020.

Tracks of a clawed beastie? Another friend to be found and to talk to. All this talking about ones past had pushed Erik quite a bit. It was good but it was hard. He welcomed the distraction. Although it was Thorn who asked him to come with... Could she have some way of paying him back for what he'd caused to happen to her? If so he deserved it. His eyes only briefly tracked to hers before casting downward again. That pained guilt was still there in his eyes. He nodded silently and made his way toward where Sand had indicated.

His mind however dwelled more on what SHE might be thinking and it was distracting. So distracting. Why did he have to care so much this time? Because all the others had been disappeared so quickly after he had caused their harm he hadn't had to be reminded...

Survival: 11

Thorn crouched down to study the trail, gleaning all she could from it. Though able to draw some conclusions, she'd not risk prejudicing Erik by sharing her observations prematurely. She glanced up at him: "Do you recognize the tracks?"

Nature: 6
This message was last edited by the player at 15:32, Thu 03 Sept 2020.

At first he had been to troubled by his thoughts and proximity to The One He'd Caused Hurt. If it wasn't for her presence though he would may have missed the tracks. He got down close and peered at them. He placed his hand into one of the imprints and shifted his fingers this way and that until they somewhat conformed to the print. It was a large enough creature to leave a footprint this big but not so large that his hand was engulfed. As Thorn pointed out more track he gauged the distance between stride and looked up at her, again just briefly. "Laughers. Hyena... but... Two-leggers?" There was confusion on his face. "Know this word?" As he asked he stood and looked at the vast number of tracks old and fresh. There was no way to get a read on how many had crossed in both directions or how recently.

When Thorn told him Gnolls he nodded and his mangy hair bobbed with the movement. He dropped back into his lower primal stance and moved back to join the others. "Gnoll" he said it as if testing the word. "Lots track. Hard to    read." More and more of his language was dropping the beastial sounds in between but they were still present here and there.

"The trail runs approximately southwest and northeast," Thorn added, "A sizable pack - perhaps even a tribe - seems to inhabit the area and make frequent use of the path. Their tracks range from a couple of weeks to several days old. I suggest continue on our way, lest we risk an encounter."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:34, Thu 03 Sept 2020.

Sand took the cue and turned to the hunters.

Do hunters know about those…. Gnolls? Have gnolls ever attacked?

Curious to see where the path would go, he looked at Thorn.

Could Thorn send Aisling to see where path goes that way? Sand will send Scamp to explore other way. Sand concerned gnoll could be danger to Vertigo. Sand think it’s prudent to know if and where gnoll camp be located.

He pointed toward the west for Thorn to send Aisling, and sent Scamp to follow the path towards the east.

Scamp perception 8, 21, advantage.

This time Elias stepped forward, bending down to examine the tracks.

Yes, we've come across these tracks before, but have never seen the creatures who've made them.  In all our time out here, we've always been wary, checking to ensure there were no fresh tracks, so as not to come across them.

Sand thanks Elias. Scamp has instructions, he will find camp or come back to tell Sand he didn't find anything. Sand proposes that friends continue to Vertigo.

Mentally urging Clacker to start walking again, the construct took the lead again, making the path safe to travel with a cart.