With the delicate, cautious nature of someone that had spent a lot of time around small things, Farwalker sorted through the diamonds, deftly pulling the larger ones to the side and singling out the smaller and occasionally poorly cut piece. Once she had everything carefully organised, she pulled her loupe from her chest and went over each diamond with the critical care of someone that knew exactly what they were doing. It didn't take too long and she eventually had a small pile separated out from the rest. "This is close to exactly six-hundred gold worth of diamonds. I wish to purchase them." Once again, straight to the point.

Though, this did have her turning towards the rest of her traveling companions. "Though, I admit to being short one-hundred gold. I would ask for a loan, in this matter as with my current funds I can nearly save two lives."

More than happy to just listen in and evade the contractual efforts as they unfolded, Idrianthe had just returned to her table when Rhydd joined her.

"Please! She smiled, and gestured with her severed arm. The specter of her lost hand materialized and travelled forward to pull Rhydd's chair out for him.

"I'm not in the habit of turning down company, and it sounds as though your cadre has a story worth telling. And anyway, theirs is not a conversation which demands the involvement of a smith or warrior."

She spared a glance to Farwalker, considering the diamonds. "Except that part, that part may be important for you."

Rhydd cut a sharp glance towards the spectral hand that suddenly appeared -- at the behest of Idrianthe, as near as he could tell -- to pull a chair out for him to join the Elf at the table.

~~Another magicker, 'twould seem,~~ the archer thought to himself. ~~I would not have lumped that sort of thing in with skills that most smiths would have, although I can imagine that for high-level work it could be most helpful.~~

"My thanks," he said with a nod as he sat down in the proffered chair. Like Idrianthe, Rhydd had not been taking part in the ongoing conversation, which seemed, to his ear, to consist of primarily mage-blatherings . . . things regarding which he had only passing interest, and even less to contribute.

The Elf's gentle suggestion about a matter of importance, however, had the outdoorsman scrolling back through the conversations that, on some level, he had overheard.

He raised his hand when he remembered that Farwalker had spoken of needing a loan to cover the purchase of some diamonds. Personally, he did not see how such shiny baubles could lead to the saving of lives. ~~Mayhap Farwalker plans to purchase some healing potions with them. That must be it.~~

"I can cover that," he told the Goliath. "And I see no need to consider it a loan, if the result of your acquiring such gems will benefit the party as a whole."

Indeed, no one had quibbled with him about his owing them a portion of the value of the magicked bow that he had recently come to own, undoubtedly due to the same line of reasoning -- by being used to vanquish their foes, it would benefit all of them.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:48, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

Yeah, I figured the same as well.  There are a lot of well-known Harpells and the Ivy Mansion is certainly famous, but I figure Mallory (especially with a 10 History check) would naturally be most focused on things like the Big Extra-Famous Relative or Dowell Harpell since he's part of the Lords' Alliance.  I always get iffy with lore though since there's ever a chance a given DM might want to deviate away from established canon and change something.

---

"My goodness, you couldn't have buried the lede any deeper if you had a shovel." Mallory laughed gently.  As much as she wanted to ask further about Malchor right then and there, she more than recognized the sort of expression that came from one weary of hearing others fawn over a famous relative.  An extremely common experience among nobility, indeed.  "Really, you should've led with your family name.  My family's shipping company has done trade with Longsaddle for decades!  Honestly, this is terribly embarrassing.  Please forgive me; had I known, I'd never have sat here haggling at you like a Waterdeep corner vendor."

"Though, I admit to being short one-hundred gold. I would ask for a loan, in this matter as with my current funds I can nearly save two lives."

"I can cover that."

Mallory had just begun to open her mouth to volunteer her own gold to the matter when Rhydd beat her to the punch.  Rather than insist she ceded the matter and instead scooted her chair a bit closer to Vellynne with little scuffle-hops, seemingly far more keen on their conversation now that family recognition had been revealed.

"I'm afraid we don't know much of this Avarice individual - just bits here and there, surely nothing you don't already know yourself.  Though it sounds like we had a narrow miss in keeping away from the castle." she mused for a moment of thoughtful chin-rubbing.  "There's one matter... I don't honestly know if it's related to Avarice or the Arcane Brotherhood, but while in Targos we handled some trouble there.  The town was being terrorized by a Druid who'd magically Awakened a Plesiosaur - of all things - and forced it to wreak havoc on the fishermen.  Then, before we left, the streets were set upon by a pair of Ice Trolls who'd been terribly injured and seemingly driven into town.  If that follows a modus operandi you're aware of, well..."

Potentially unrelated offenders, especially since they'd never managed to figure out who the responsible Druid was, but any amount of scheming in Ten-Towns was worth examining.  Mallory mulled for a moment on another tidbit she felt uncertain of revealing... but, with a sigh, ceded on her own caution.  They weren't going to get anywhere if she didn't take a chance, after all.  "As for Dzaan, I still hold that I don't truly believe him to be dead.  His Simulacrum and Wight cohort, however, are another matter." she gestured back to where their armored companion rested in stoic silence nearby.  "Squire Kumalo and I saw to that ourselves in Bryn Shander."

---

Amusingly enough since I'm the one tracking Rhydd's gold for him, I'll go ahead and mark 100 GP off my sheet.  ^^
This message was last edited by the player at 17:29, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

"It is a weak Wizard who relies on spells alone. The same can be said for family relations," Vellynne answered. Her tense expression had become no more lax despite Mallory's change in disposition. "If it comes to it, I shall reveal it, but until then I prefer to let others judge me as I am. It was not my intention to keep you in the dark."

The aged Wizard listened intently as Mallory became more forthcoming. "Hmm. Interesting. I am only passingly aware of the Frost Druids in the area, though it makes sense that many would have been stirred into action by these recent events. As for the Ice Trolls, I would fear whatever drove them to such a state. Nasty creatures. Ice Trolls, Awakened beasts, and roaming Dragons . . . I'm not sure where I'd rather be — here, or Cania."

The topic of Dzaan's fate, or rather that of his Simulacrum's, piqued her interest where the rest had failed, and she sat more upright. "Well, I know for a certainty that one Dzaan perished in Easthaven. My leading theory is that Avarice ousted him, or somehow worked alongside the militia to ensure his capture. Does it mean the end of Dzaan? Unless his Simulacrum made a Simulacrum, then yes. Did you have a chance to speak to it? Did it mention anything toward this?"

---

For future reference, it is doubtful I'll ever change the broad strokes of the lore. Details, however, are another matter. But when to discern them? :)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:30, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

"I'm not sure where I'd rather be — here, or Cania."

"Hardly much difference these days, it seems." She'd come to Icewind Dale in pursuit of business opportunities.  Had she known how things had turned ahead of time, she'd have sooner set sail to Chult.  It would've been safer by far.

"Does it mean the end of Dzaan? Unless his Simulacrum made a Simulacrum, then yes. Did you have a chance to speak to it? Did it mention anything toward this?"

On that, Mallory grew dour as a displeased grimace settled over her features and she couldn't help but slouch back into her seat.  Compartmentalization was a useful skill to have, but there was only so much she could push away the troubling memories of what she'd inflicted on the Simulacrum.  Astre mewled and nuzzled his brow into the crook of her jaw with a reassuring press, though even his fluffy affections did little to ease the noble's feelings on the matter.

"No, the Simulacrum didn't make another.  I would've known if they had." she reached to her satchel once more and withdrew two particular items.  The dull shard of necrotic crystal she'd removed from the Wight's remains and the tightly-bound lock of Dzaan's hair that had served as the Simulacrum's core.  Both laid on the table for examination even as the Wight's Soul Coin remained quite firmly stowed and hidden; that wasn't something she wanted to reveal without damn good reason.  "Squire Kumalo captured the Simulacrum and they were being held by the authorities of Bryn Shander until a few days ago.  Dzaan's Wight attacked, presumably in an attempted jailbreak, but was no match for our good knight." she eschewed her own small part in the destruction of the Undead menace.

"Over-reliance on spells does indeed become a crutch, but there are times when they are the best tool for the job.  Interrogation of the Simulacrum only yielded so much; they were adamant in keeping their secrets and bargaining for their release to pursue the Spire.  I couldn't permit a murderous Red Wizard to walk free - even if only an echo of one - and instead used spellwork to steal the memories of Dzaan and the Simulacrum both.  The alternative was simply too great a risk.  They revealed much, despite their efforts to shield their thoughts from me.  I was... thorough."  Successful as the effort may have been, Mallory sounded disgusted with herself in the recounting as the shame of it made her dark-ringed eyes look all the more tired, weighed down and weary under what she'd done.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:08, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

Vellynne picked up both items for examination. She was quick to identify and discard the bundle of hair, though paid the black crystal from the Wight a closer look. "That only leaves the possiblity that your Simulacrum was unknowingly a child of another parent Simulacrum. But perhaps it was precisely because it was the last Simulacrum that Krintaas, the Wight bodyguard you spoke of, tried to reach it." She rolled her fingers on the table thoughtfully. "This bodes well. Thank you for bringing this information to me. I am curious to your method on prying its thoughts from it. Frankly, I wasn't certain a Simulacrum had thoughts at all. Beneath its facade it is no more than a shifting pile of snow supported by the spell."

She spent a bit more time mulling things over, carefully placing the necrotic crystal down again. "Allegedly, the cabal of Ythryn developed a method to permanently transmute illusions into the corresponding substance permanently. The real thing, so to speak. Dzaan upheld the idea, though if true, it would be one of the greatest breakthroughs in magic throughout all of history, if not the singular greatest. It would if nothing be the most valuable one. For this reason, I am not so easily convinced, nor do I suspect such a thing would happen to be located in the one piece of Ythryn we have access to. Though I won't mourn him for a second, Dzaan knew more of this than I. Perhaps there was a reason he pursued Simulacrums aside from the obvious. Perhaps he believed he had a way to achieve lichdom?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:42, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

While the Harpells had a wide and storied history of magecraft in their family, one constant thread throughout was that it was wide and storied indeed.  No consistent pattern of all of them being remarkable like Malchor nor all useless in far contrast.  Vellynne's remarks on what she knew of the Simulacrum's spellbound nature, along with her comment of not relying overmuch on spells, left Mallory with a momentary adjustment to her appraisal.

"Simulacra are unusual things, to be certain, but they do indeed carry thoughts and memories.  Just not their own, per say.  They're a vestige of the creature the spell is focused upon; as such, this one held Dzaan's memories and demeanor.  But they cannot grow beyond that, which makes them something of a walking record." Mallory explained as she retrieved both the hair and crystal alike to stow away safely.  "Through that, I was able to learn of yourself and Avarice, among other things I've yet to discern.  It's why I know the faces and names of our lost adventurers despite having never met them myself, or how I know Dzaan was terribly fond of the writings of Hu Ling Do which honestly is just typical of his sort..."

Talk of what had been accomplished by Ythryn's mages sounded impossible on its face but, given her tutelage, Mallory knew better.  What the Neth had been capable of in the height of their empire made even the most potent of modern magecraft look like silly parlor tricks in contrast.  Even diminished as mortal magic was compared to its might in long-gone eras, to make something truly real of an illusion was still possible.  The very sled that had carried them along was one such example of the concept.  But to do so with ease and reliability for its permanence, or with a greater capacity beyond such minor conjurations... now that would indeed be something marvelous.  Well-suited to the wonders of Netheril.  Mallory's thoughts recalled the image she'd seen in the Simulacrum's mind.



"Allegedly, the cabal of Ythryn developed a method to permanently transmute illusions into the corresponding substance. The real thing, so to speak.

Perhaps there was a reason he pursued Simulacrums aside from the obvious. Perhaps he believed he had a way to achieve lichdom?"

Mallory's eyes narrowed as she lingered on the memory of the Simulacrum's yearning for the Spire.  Its or Dzaan's?  Did it truly matter which?  But if Ythyrn's magic could indeed make an illusion into reality, then...?

"No, even with the might of Nethril, it would be beyond preposterous to think..." she muttered more to herself than anyone.  A shake of her head brought her attention back up to the elder.  "Regardless of Dzaan's reasons, they're well and thwarted now, one way or another.  What becomes more of a matter is why others of the Arcane Brotherhood, like Avarice, might seek Ythyrn themselves.  You mentioned something of yours that was stolen by a rival before?  An heirloom or some personal item?  Does that factor into this at all?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:49, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

"A Professor Orb called Skant that once belonged to my distant forefather Noyreth Harpell," Vellynne revealed. Now that a rapport had been established and the discussion became even, she clearly felt more comfortable with airing detailed information. "Stolen by Nass Lantomir, a Diviner, who was last seen in Lonelywood more than two Tendays ago. Professor Skant was primarily a linguist capable of reading and speaking Loross, the dead language of Netheril. He also possessed quite an extensive knowledge on the Netherese Empire in general. Ythryn, however, was somewhat of a blindspot, though it is difficult to fault him. It is as if the city has been purged from the records of history."

Arcana check to know what a Professor Orb is?  Or would that reasonably be something Mallory is already aware of?

---

This is a toss-up. The Professor Orbs are something specifically introduced for this module, with no information on how widespread they are. It sounds to me like its something that most scholars would have heard of, but I can only assume. But let us do exactly that and say Mallory has some passing familiarity, and then we can do an Arcana check for extra information.

Mallory's knowledge on Professor Orbs [13]: Sentient magic items with deep knowledge in different academic fields, often very specific. Though they are excellent resources for academics, they are exceptionally rare and difficult to create. One is located within the Blackstaff Tower of Waterdeep.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:33, Tue 11 Oct 2022.

One could always split the difference and say there are more commonplace items that have similar functions as Professor Orbs, but the genuine article is a real treasure.  The fact that it's a Sentient magical item is absolutely remarkable; there aren't a lot of those to begin with and a lot of them were probably destroyed during the Spellplague a century ago.

---

Mention of a genuine Professor Orb raised Mallory's brows quite high and she could certainly understand why someone would want to pilfer such a wondrous artifact.  Especially if it held intimate knowledge of the Neth.  That it had been taken by a fellow Diviner stuck in her craw as well; she may not have chosen to specialize in Divination herself, but she still had a sense of pride in it.  One surely using their abilities to unsavory ends reflected ill on the whole practice.

"I can certainly understand why you'd want that back, sentimental value aside.  Even I'd not hesitate to march out into the tundra for such a relic." Mallory admitted.  "I'm sorry to say I've not heard any rumor of it or this Lantomir person.  But I'll certainly keep more than just my ears open here on out.  I've a Diviner myself, so I may be able to find some way to help in that regard."

The young noble mulled over the whole mess as she finished off the last of her kaeth and hoped there'd soon be more.  "Dzaan effectively out of the picture, Avarice lurking nearby, and a rogue rival Lantomir who knows where.  Yourself, and ourselves; all lines surely leading to this Spire one way or another." she summarized with a half-hearted smirk of resignation.  "A simple rescue mission has become far more complicated than I feared.  I should've asked for two hundred gold each, instead.

Do you expect a likelihood that we might encounter Avarice or Lantomir?  If you know the location of the Spire well enough to mark it on a map, surely they do as well?  Dzaan certainly had a solid idea of where it is himself.  Roving Bugbears and whatever beasts have moved into a ruin are one thing, but I'd like to know what sort of capabilities we risk contending with if your enemies might be prowling around as well."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:46, Tue 11 Oct 2022.

"Lantomir you can handle," Vellynne said as she simultaneously tended to the diamond transaction. It seemed the Goliath knew what she was doing, but customs required Vellynne to verify their carat and cut herself. She brought out a pocket-sized balance scale and stacked the side with weights until it matched the diamonds Farwalker had picked out. After that, it was a simple exchange of currency. Diamonds had their purposes, but they were also treated as having a fixed value determined by a rigid system similar to other gemstones. The carats could be a few percent or permille off, but given the circumstance and lack of access to a more precise scale and weights that couldn't be avoided. "Avarice you cannot. I can offer no guarantee that she doesn't decide to seek the Spire during your journey, but I can attest that she has not done so thus far despite her knowledge of it. It is possible she doesn't know its location. Though if she does come, I will do my utmost to warn you through my Familiar."

---

What do you say to try and wrap things up here? I don't want to drone at length at the risk of boring the others :S

Seems like a good time for it.  Introductions made, rapports established, diamonds purchased.  We can handwave/narrate breakfast, supplies, and so forth.  Mallory does want to get a chance to speak with Rhydd in a relative amount of privacy before the Party sets out though, but that should be a brief chat.

---

When you mention supplies, do you intend to visit a shop? The inn can arrange Rations for you if you need it, but not much else.

Just rations.  I don't think an inn would sell medical supplies, so just food for the Party and animals should do.

As the guests ate what comprised a modest arrangement of cheeses, breads, and cured meats, Vellynne once more went up to her room to collect the party's upfront payment. She also brought a map of Icewind Dale for the expeditionists to keep, on which she marked the location of the Spire.

"You must approach from the southwest relative to the Spire by a five degree margin before it falls into view, otherwise you will not encounter it at all. If done correctly, the night sky will rotate," she went on to explain. "And when you leave, leave in the opposite direction from whence you came. It will seem counterintuitive, but you must adhere to this, or you will find yourself with a long, long way back home."

---

The party is given 200 gp and this map. Since you have now been provided a more definitive location, Rhydd (owing to his Outlander Background) can reason it would take about 16 hours to reach.

I will proceed to narrate the beginning of the expedition, but consider there to be some room here for further character interaction. Depending on how much you feel like rushing, I envision you spend ~1-2 hours eating and preparing in the inn.

---

THIS PASSAGE HAS BEEN MOVED TO CHAPTER 3.

---

Rhydd can give me a Survival Check. Disadvantage can be negated by having either of the characters possessing Darkvision Work Together with him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:29, Fri 14 Oct 2022.

Rhydd was impressed by the quality of the map that was provided -- it contained a goodly bit of detail, mayhap even enough for the others to find their way to the mysterious Spire if something were to happen to him. He thought about the distances involved -- at least according to the map -- and the conditions that the party would be likely to face in their trek.

"I would estimate that 'twill take us 15 to 20 hours to reach the goal," he said after a bit. "Although, given the raw conditions outside, I'll wager that it may feel much longer."

The archer fixed himself a plate with plenty of food. "Food is fuel in these conditions, so we should all eat up whilst we can. Trail rations will keep us alive, but it may be a while until we can eat a hearty meal again. I'll do my best to keep us supplied with fresh meat, but you can never tell about such things," he added with a shrug.

"A lot will depend upon the weather."

After a moment's thought, he added "Since we will be traveling after darkfall, I would appreciate the assistance of someone with Darkvision."

---

OOC: 12:52, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 14 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 9.  Survival Check .

Comments: I went ahead and rolled without Disadvantage, based upon Idrianthe's comments in the OOC thread. I set up Rhydd's IC post to allow her an opportunity to jump in (IC), if she so desires. An okay roll but not great. We'll see what it brings us. :)

While the travelers ate, Idri went up to her room to pack for the journey. It wasn't a swift process, but gave Rhydd time to study the map.

She returned carrying a large traveling pack on her shoulder, braced against a shield that was bound across the elf's back. Sundry small bits of gear were tied to and dangling from the sides of her kit, and plates of shining, silversteel armor were carefully mounted on the exterior of the bag.

The whole jangling package hit the ground as she took a seat with the adventurers, still dressed for a day in the forge.

"Since we will be traveling after darkfall, I would appreciate the assistance of someone with Darkvision."

"I would be happy to help you navigate!" She chimed in. "It's only fair I help in some way, to show my appreciation for tagging along."

Breakfast and a map were both welcome items to end up on the table as far as Mallory was concerned.  She scooted in close at Rhydd's side to study the layout along with him and make mental notes on their route; it yielded an odd bit of thought-work to blend presented information with the stolen memories she'd taken from the Simulacrum to mesh them both together into something functional.  When it came time to eat, she happily availed herself of a hearty meal but kept an eye on Rhydd throughout with a glance his way from time to time.  She let him eat uninterrupted until he seemed to reach a point where his appetite eased or he at least had a moment between getting a second portion, then spoke up with a gentle clearing of her throat.

"Ah, Rhydd?  May I borrow a moment of your time, please?"  She gestured to the nearby stairs that led to the inn's second floor.  There weren't many opportunities for personal space given the open layout of main room, but a quick ascent to the upper hallway would allow some modicum of privacy.  Better than stepping outside into the cold, certainly.

---

Farwalker and Khulekani; don't forget to add 50 GP to your inventory.  I've already tracked it on Mallory and Rhydd's accounts.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:38, Thu 13 Oct 2022.

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 98):

Rhydd raised an eyebrow at Mallory's request. He tried to think of what she might wish to speak to him about, and came up empty.

He nodded his assent [to the ascent :)] and waved for the wizardess to proceed him up the stairway.

After all, why waste words when gestures were perfectly sufficient?

A quick climb and a few steps beyond into the hall was sufficient for Mallory before she turned to regard Rhydd.  She knew he had no patience for bothers, despite how often he put up with her antics, and chose to be quick to the point despite a bit of uncertainty in her chest.

"I... ah, well, I've made something for you.  The timing's gone a bit awkward after Farwalker's gift, I suppose, but still.  I didn't want to step on her toes by giving you this in front of everyone... that, and, well... I mean, as I've been raised, it's not proper for a lady to give a man a token in public, so--" she realized she'd gone to rambling all too quickly.  Where Rhydd found ease in his silence, Mallory relied on overabundance of words instead.

From her satchel came a rather sporting, sturdy pair of high boots.  Solid leather, good stitching, reinforced heels; just the sort of thing for rough terrain.  The tops were tufted with icy white fur that spilled inside as a dense, insulating lining throughout.  As soft as a rabbit's pelt to the touch, somehow, yet the coloration was all too obviously that of the Ice Troll hair she'd been spotted working in her downtime since Bryn Shander.  Though as she handed them over, a shift in the lantern light showed that the leather of the boots bore faint, almost imperceptible etchings of fine arcane inlays across the surface.  The interior arch of each heel bore the same lily-of-the-valley seal as Mallory's signet ring - her family crest - along with the words 'Bonheur - Neverwinter' scripted in Dwarven runes ever so subtly around it as a maker's mark.

"I've enchanted them; so long as you wear these, they'll protect you from the cold and keep your stride sure even in the worst of blizzards.  Plus they're broadly invulnerable to wear-and-tear and will resize themselves to fit the wearer, so they're bound to be the most comfortable boots you'd ever own.  So long as you don't do something silly like toss them into a volcano, they'll last... well, forever." she explained hastily and spared him the finer details of the work in lieu of their base utility.  Mallory's dark eyes bounced about - to the boots, the floor, up to Rhydd's face, and back away again as she found herself uncertain of where to look.

"We're going into danger and I want to be able to protect you, as you've done for me so many times, in whatever way I can.  And I felt they would suit you, given your ways.  Something to keep you warm and steady in the wilds, right?" she lifted her gaze again with a soft smile.  "And... well... they're a token of my esteem.  I just want you to know how grateful I am to you.  For being here, for being with me, for just... being you."

---

Mallory has crafted Rhydd a set of "Boots of the Winterlands".  Given the timing already planned before we set out, he'll have time to Attune to them before we leave town if he wants.

Boots of the Winterlands:

Uncommon Rarity - Requires Attunement

These furred boots are snug and feel quite warm. While you wear them, you gain the following benefits:

• You have Resistance to cold damage.
• You ignore Difficult Terrain created by ice or snow.
• You can tolerate temperatures as low as -50 degrees Fahrenheit without any additional Protection. If you wear heavy clothes, you can tolerate temperatures as low as -100 degrees Fahrenheit.

This message was last edited by the player at 22:43, Thu 13 Oct 2022.

Rhydd's eyes widened in surprise when he saw what Mallory had lifted from her satchel, and soon his smile widened into a grin as she explained what she had wrought for him.

"Wonderful . . . they're just wonderful, Mallory," he said quietly. He stepped over and ran his hand over the leather and fur, admiring the workmanship. Come to find out, not only were they finely crafted, they were magicked as well.

"Perfect," he added quietly, seeking Mallory's eyes with his own. "I can't begin to tell you how many nights I have spent trying to dry my feet and keep them warm. It's one of the most common problems for those people like me who make the Wilds their home, and oft-times sleep rough. Now I'll never have to worry about that sort of thing, ever again."

Rhydd lowered his head, perhaps a little bashfully. "I've never had anyone who cared enough about me to gift me with anything . . . ever before. Never, ever. And now I've received two wonderful gifts, both on the same day."

As if on impulse, Rhydd stepped forward and put his hands on Mallory's hips. An instant later he had picked her up and her feet were a foot or more off the floor. Then, grinning like a fool, he laughed and swung her around in a circle.

After one circular rotation, he lowered her to the ground. Reaching down to push her hair aside, he bent over and gently kissed her forehead. Looking into her eyes, he said "Thank you. This is a wonderful gift, and I shall treasure it -- them -- always."

Pursing his lips, his expression became slightly . . . well . . . roguish. "I shall think of you whene'er I put them or take them off."

Seeing Rhydd smile at all - let alone with such a broad and genuine grin - was a rare sight, but one that brought its mirror to Mallory's own painted lips.  Her expression warmed and words eased from the hesitation she'd been taken by at first as he looked so sheepish himself instead.  "You're a good man, Rhydd.  A bit rough on the edges, to be certain --" she teased knowingly "-- but you deserve good things.  Besides, there's no harm in letting yourself be spoiled a bit every now and then, is there?"

As he reached for her with hands outstretched, Mallory too opened her arms readily.  She expected a hug, the same he'd given Farwalker in return for her gift.  Hoped for, even?  She wasn't certain herself, though she knew she'd have felt a bit put-out with anything less.  But rather than just an embrace she found herself swept away off her feet!  Downstairs, where Astre sat curled in Mallory's otherwise vacated chair, Astre's ears sharply flicked as he heard her surprised "Oh!" chime from the top of the stairwell.  She braced her hands to Rhydd's shoulders for balance as he swung her about, unable to keep back her laughter in the moment as her long, dark hair billowed about in her wake.

A touch, a gaze, a kiss on the brow.  A lot more than just a hug, that was for certain.  The young noble pressed a hand to Rhydd's chest to hold him back at arm's length, but not at all in disdain for his fond gestures.  That much was obvious as her other hand was modestly set over her face as she looked aside, unable to hide neither dark blush nor unmistakable, silly, altogether-too-pleased grin that she had no hope of truly holding back.  Despite herself, there was only so much her sense of etiquette prepared her to handle all at once.

"Yes, well... I daresay you'll look quite dashing paired with your new cloak and bow." she hardly managed to keep a squeak out of her voice as she felt her ears burn from how bright her blush glowed.  She wasn't the sort to ever truly be at a loss for words, but Rhydd had certainly come close to it as she peeked up at him bashfully through her fingers.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:51, Fri 14 Oct 2022.

Rhydd was pleased to see that Mallory seemed . . . well, pleased, herself . . . by the archer's impulsiveness. It would have been embarrassing, indeed, had she slapped him or pushed him down the stairwell.

He chuckled at her comment after he had set her back down on her feet. "Dashing ... aye, no doubt that's how all the maidens will think of me when they see my eye-catching new boots!"

Now that the impulsiveness that had led to . . . well, what it had led to . . . had faded, Rhydd was uncertain what to do now.

He reached down and grasped the hand that Mallory had placed against his chest in one of his own, and gave it a squeeze.

A man who was more experienced in softening the hearts of maidens might have brushed Mallory's hand with his lips; but then, Rhydd was not that sort of man.

Instead, he pulled Mallory to him for a quick hug, then released her.

"We . . . should go back downstairs, I suppose," he murmured, his voice a little husky.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Fri 14 Oct 2022.