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Name: Coryn
Location: CAVE? Interaction: No one in particular
Status: So fucking confused + WHAT THE FUCK
What the fuck was going on.
He thought the dragon talk was all hokey pokey or something, but by some weird miracle her was witnessing some weird ass glowing runes. Tiredly, his brain wracked at what he was witnessing and then just sat back quietly. He knows damn well he was the one who fell asleep, by habit too. However, he wasn't in the mindset to argue. Everyone here would be lying if they said they weren't tired either. He just nodded his head and kept himself awake. Really though, he was kicking himself. HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT OH MY GOD MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE BEEN A FUCKING PRIEST OH MY GOD
Name: Ernest
Location: Mountain path + cave
Interaction: Sir Garrus Ardell + the group
Status: In a state of wonder and courage, but still timid
Slightly dismayed by the clear lack of enthusiasm for word-play and a certain warning from Sir Garrus, Ernest finds it best to stay silent for the majority of the journey upward. After all, he tends to believe if you really want to stay out of all sorts of trouble, don't go pushing and prodding on about the larger folk, especially disgruntled ones. That is to say... stay quiet. Which, he likes to think he rather excels in coming from such a large family. Nothing terribly bad has ever come his way before when he followed this mantra. With a smidgen of cheeriness in Ernest's eyes, he gives an assurance to Sir Garrus, "I wholeheartedly understand, Sir." This is what he came for nonetheless: an adventure. He ought not go squabbling about or throwing away a potential chance for the oo's and ah's of his peers back home. This, he believes, will be a great chance for discovery. Needing to leave his entrusted companion and best friend, Summit the goat, behind, he pats his head and neck, assuring the burly animal that he'd return, "it won't be the longest now, Summit. I'm sure I'll come back for you in a few days time. In the meantime, you've got this kind man's horse as company, Dahlia, I think I recall the name as. You'll be a right proper fellow now, won't you?" Leaving his rations buried in the snow and some loose items in a pack hanging off the post Summit's tied to, Ernest grabs his walking stick from Summit's pack and takes his leave.
Following the rest of the group and being fitly snug into the middle of their caravan, it wasn't long until a certain figure pushed their way to the front demanding questions from Sir Ardell that many may have been thinking themselves. Ernest stumbles slightly as he's pushed into the edge of the mountain slope. It doesn't take much to topple him over from the larger folk despite him being on the taller end of his kind. He quickly regains his composure, however, and continues on when everything settles.
Upon their resignation, Ernest hears Sir Ardell's words faintly from his spot, "We won't reach the monastery until tomorrow night, at best. We'll go by the pace of the smallest of us." Sir Garrus said, nodding at Ernest. "No one is left behind, I expect you all to learn to work together before your life depends on one another. If it puts your minds at ease, you may consider this your first lesson - a test or trial, to see if you have what it takes." Why, Ernest doesn't particularly like being a burden, nor being put directly in the light for all to see, not in the slightest. He's always done his best to keep up with the rest of his brothers, even despite his condition. No sir, not Ernest. He does his best to pace himself firmly to a steadfast climb, and is thoroughly proud of himself when he hasn't had the need to stop often. It seems for now, his nerves are kept at bay by the determination in his soles and him trying to regulate his breathing as to not overexert himself."Focus, Ernest. Now isn't the time to be caught lacking. Breathe," he consoles himself. In the meantime, he makes very light, small talk with the white-haired girl, Zalie, who seems set and keen on talking with whoever she may meet.
By the fourth hour, he is most certainly nearing his limitations and begins to feel light-headed when, thankfully so, he hears from Sir Garrus, "Ahead. Here." Followed soon after by, "In. Rest, and I'll keep watch." Never more delighted to take a few moments to breathe, Ernest gladly takes the hand of the frontman, Coryn, and gives a greeting smile and slight nod as he does with a brief, "much appreciated, master Coryn," as he easily fits through the cave opening. Once inside, he finds a spot to rest against the wall of the cave and for the first time since joining the troupe, drops the hood of his cloak, revealing two pointy ears and a dark, dark brown of curls upon his head. He intakes the cold, cavernous air and lets it out with a deep sigh of relief.
It was at this time that he finally lays eyes on a particular Elven priestess, Niamh, her name must've been, and he cannot help but notice a sudden tranquil feeling within him. For whatever the reason, he takes an immediate liking to the kind and unimposing nature of her. He's not entirely fond of boisterous characters, and now here there seems to be someone he can most certainly enjoy the presence of even though he tends to enjoy his time alone and in concentrated thought. Not to mention, she's by and large entirely kind on his naive eyes, of which have never before beheld a creature of more grace. She reminds him almost of home, like waking in the middle of summer and seeing the wheatgrass dancing from a morning breeze. A small smile finds its way onto his face as he closes his eyes for but a moment of time, relishing in this splentastic sensation, when a nightmarish screech, rather rudely he admits, shakes him from his bliss. Amongst the quiet chaos inside the cave, he watches in awe as Sir Garrus hurriedly traces those oddly-shaped symbols upon the floor which seems to protect them from the bewildering surge of light and heat against the invisible barrier. He will have to remind himself later to learn the makings of those symbols. Magic. It had to have been. A blue, glowing undertone could be seen to the visible heat, and, for a brisk time, Ernest was absolutely taken aback by such a beautiful sight. He has never before seen such obvious signs of power, and although it was a neat sight, he has no intention of being on the receiving end of it ever again. No sleeping, that's for sure.
Name: Cardis
Location: CAVE? Interaction: To Crydora mainly
It's times like these that Cardis wishes that he had been into physical fitness as much as his sister. The climb up is arduous, and four long hours? Horrible. Cardis isn't used to this much damn cardio. When they reach the crevice he's relieved, letting out a small huff in relief. Finally some rest. When coming in he takes Coryn's hand for help and goes in. He sits down with his sister in the cave, too scared to even attempt to sleep. He sits down, relaxing as much as he can against his sister. As soon as they go to sit, while people aren't looking directly he subtly sits with Crydora's stuff and leans his staff against the wall for her to pick up when they leave. He leaves his things between them for her to pick up as well when they leave.
He surveys the room, watching the other people settling in. The sound of the little bell from that Dwarven girl who had pushed them earlier sets him on edge. They were supposed to be quiet. His eyes roam over all of them and he sees the one named Coryn trying to sleep and he tenses up- Rule Number Three No Sleeping. He makes a move to try and wake him, reaching over. Sir Garrus calls out to wake him. Apparently, he was too late.
That shriek rattles through Cardissian's very bones. His nightmares come to life, rearing up out of his psyche and raking across his very mind. He goes stock still. He watches with his breath held as Sir Garrus does those weird symbols. Warmth lights up the cave and chases away the ice in him physically but the cold from hearing that scream doesn't dissipate. He moved forward slightly in front of C'yra. At Sir Garrus's reminder, he nods his head in acknowledgement. His face fixed in a neutral expression.
Alright- get to the top of the spine. Get there. Then we're safe.
He had let go of Crydora temporarily as they were settling. He does not reach for her this time. He settles back against her but doesn't speak, instead watching the entrance and Sir Garrus.
Ascending the narrow, icy path, carved into the Drakeback Mountain...
In his heart, Garrus knew that a lot of factors had come into play here. It wasn't just those tiredly letting their subconsciousness slip into the dream world. It had been the smell of horse and goat, their voices - even his - bouncing off the mountains, the bell, the rocks as they tumbled. The rocks. Sir Garrus looked up as if it helped him picture the mountainside. He recalled how it looked during their four hours of steady climbing, but it was not comparable to the memory of his descent a month prior. He wasn't certain if it looked any different.
Like his trip with the first group who arrived on schedule, Garrus had expected the hunter to arrive as they neared the summit. But the falling rocks had been keeping him on edge all day. Was it doing that on purpose? His mind raced. It was entirely possible that it had been here following them all along, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
Sir Garrus took off his gauntlet and placed it on the stone wall, which thrummed with heat. Fire, definitely, but the way it tracked them was like Air... Then it must be one of those. He released the breath he was holding, tense and focused, before putting his gauntlet back on. At least the steps would be safer with the ice melted. The heat was slowly dissipating so it would likely stay unfrozen for a few more hours.
He knew it would be best to push - to make them keep going - but then he glanced over at them. His face and expression was hard and stern, scowling, but you felt as though he wasn't scowling at you but at the situation. He wasn't hiding it, but you could see that - even to Sir Garrus - this situation was not what he had expected. He let go of another breath, not speaking his mind, and then pulled out what looked to be a glass vial. The glass itself was shiny and black, a very odd sight.
He carefully wiggled off the cork cap, careful not to let it pop or squeak too loudly, then into the palm of his left hand, poured out what looked to be little pebbles of multicoloured glowing gemstones - pink, blue, green, yellow, purple, orange, white...
These stones were not anything a jeweller or smith would recognise. They were unfamiliar to priests, nobles and most certainly unknown to the common folk. But to a keen-eyed Alchemist... these stones were a marvel. Never had Ki'Yith seen a craft so perfect.
They were known as Tears of Mheo - or, effectively, ToMs. They were not a mineable substance - actually, they only appeared to look like gemstones - but one made by a legendary Dwarven Paragon; a title given to a Dwarf who had mastered all crafts. Very few Paragons were ever named, but the creator of this particular Relic was the very same whose House name blesses the Dwarf capital - Deis Raldbthar. As a surface dwarf, not much was known about him besides his name, that he had existed two thousand years ago, and the crafts he left behind in his legacy. Even later replications of the Paragons' ToMs were known to be less effective, but these... these looked as if the Paragon himself might have made them. But, that was impossible. Paragon Raldbthar was dead thousands of years ago.
What Ki'Yith did know about ToMs was that they were very useful Relics. Edible gemstones that tasted like your fondest memory - or, so was the theory, though modern ones just tasted like sugar. They were consumed during battle, to give soldiers energy, preventing the need to eat or sleep for half a day - which was why they were dispatched in glass vials, allowing multiple days to be covered so that all you had to do was focus on survival. But not black glass. How does one make glass that black? Staining was optional, but it was never that pigmented. This was something else.
Ki'Yith had likely tried one once during her studies of Alchemy. Sugary and unpleasant, but it did as it intended and made busy work days very efficient. The ones she had tried didn't glow like this though; they didn't have that same radiance, like pebbles of starlight in the palm of Sir Garrus's hand.
He outstretched his left hand, offering the ToMs to the group. "Take one, it will help." Was all he said, then put one in his mouth as his eyes swept the small cave, still on high alert.
It was hard like rock candy, but following instructions to stay quiet, you didn't bite it, instead letting it sit on your tongue like a hard toffee. There was a faint sweetness, almost like barley sweets, but not in an overpowering way. The sweetness gave way to a tranquillity; you felt your nerves settle and anxieties ebb away. Your mind awoke, no longer exhausted, nor did you want to sleep, and the pain in your muscles faded away, replaced by an athletic strength you didn't know you were capable of.
Then it came to you, your fondest, most precious memory, swaddling you and comforting you. You felt inspired, but not blinded from the urgent threats still awaiting you.
Sir Garrus didn't force you all to take one, but he did wait until each of you made that choice for yourself. Once everyone who wanted it had taken one, he slid the remaining back into the black glass vial, pressed the stopper in, and tucked it away once more.
He turned, shifting back to the entrance. His ears strained; he could still hear the tumbling of rocks in the distance, but it was moving away. Until it was far enough, Garrus could still figure out a plan of action. Pulling out that old leather book and a stick of charcoal, Garrus put it to the ground, turning to the back of the journal, and began to map out the path ahead of them across two pages.
(it's shitty bc he can't fucking draw)
As he drew, X marked where they started and where they needed to be, and then along a winding path, he marked the spots where he estimated all the entrances to be that they could hide. There were few and far between - this path wasn't meant for this kind of situation. But they didn't have time to waste.
Garrus knew, in his head, the distance needed to reach the next cave. Two hours to the next at the pace they had been moving so far, so to remind himself he placed two dotted lines between the X representing the cave they were in now, and the next one ahead. One hour until the one after, then two hours, then three between that and the last cave. And then... then there was nowhere else to hide, and hopefully no one would die this time. He was ready for the ambush, and so close to the monastery he could-...
Garrus shoved that from his mind. Only if it was necessary would he resort to that. By Aethrius, he was going to get the all back alive this time.
Sir Garrus left the journal there as he turned back and listened to the outside. He could no longer hear the rocks falling. "It's not ideal to stay here. We're going to need to move sooner than expected. I think it's tracking us using echolocation. That, or a seismic sense to find us through the tremors it's causing with the rockfalls," he reflected, weighing in a third option. "Could be both," he then added pessimistically. "It didn't do this last time - it was waiting in ambush at the summit; there's six hours between the last cave and the monastery and I think it's aware of that. We'll make it by dawn if we move faster. If you didn't take one of the Tears of Mheo, I'll give you one now - you won't feel exhausted and or any strain, all we'll need to worry about is making it there and not being seen."
"Or-" he added- "We keep the pace we've had. Move slower. You don't need to take a ToM and there won't be a rush or any time limit. But regardless, we'll need to keep quiet and try not to draw attention to ourselves. I'll rely on you to keep each other in check as well, especially if I'm busy."
Sir Garrus then collected his journal and put it away. The entire time he kept his voice low and quiet. Now he looked to each of you. "This is your trial. So you call the shot - how do you want to proceed, heroes?"
Name: C'yra
Location: Cave Interaction: No one in particular
Status: Oh..What the hell??
She had brushed pass Coryn while her brother had taken his hand in. Eyeing the interior of the cave, picking a quiet corner to place their stuff, to rest, as the knight said.
But resting doesn't mean sleeping, it was 4 atrocious hours, and even with her daily cardio. She has to admit, mountain climbing was not one of those workout she could stomach straight with no breaks. So she plopped down on the floor, Cardis following her seconds after. During all this, she can't help a momentary thought. They were a long way from home, weren't they?
A bell rung, snapping her back to attention. Cardis reached over, somewhere. Then a shriek.
Her very bones trembled. Every muscle taut, coiled with tension. Ears perked but pressed down from tension, eyes following the only movement from the lot of them. The knight making symbols in the air, the rocks. Not in any known language she thought she knew, with her horrid reading ability, whatever it said would've been gibberish to her anyways.
Sweltering heat. She almost sees Cardis move in front of her, but had her eyes squeezed shut. Waiting for an impact that never came.
The night lit up, as if it were day. But they were still standing.
She does not know if it were a blessing, or curse in disguise. But one thing stayed certain, they'd be safe once they reach the top. The temple. It's all they have to bet on, the knight's word alone. Thank gods, ...or not, regardless.
The heat did not leave, the mountain's chill never settled back in. She watched once more as Garrus took out a strange tinted vail, glowing gems tumbled out into his palm when he tipped it. Such delicate gems, ones she couldn't recognize. She wonders if Cardis does, perhaps he came across such gemstones during his time with the jewel smith.
The knight offered, and so she took one, a glowing green gem, dainty little thing. She scrutinized it closely, as if trying to gauge it's purity. What a wonder she held between her fingers, one she does not know fully the value of. Tears of Mheo, they said. Tears of ..a god? A dragon? Some other overtly powerful entity? Only in very special cases could a gem be named, it usually means it has big, biggg value.
But wait, "Eat it?" She whispers, taking note of Sir Garrus' words, there was a 'last time' and their situation doesn't seem to be good. But this also means that there had been a group before them, she wonder's if they survived the last trek up. Whoever they were.
C'yra saved the questions, only giving a slight rise of her brow before popping the hard gem into her mouth without much of a second thought. It was hard, as expected. But.. well, strangely sweet. Gems weren't suppose to taste sweet, not from experience anyways. One thing is for certain, it has a soothing effect.
"I say we go faster," She whispers, eyes scanning the weary faces of her new companions. Committing each face to memory, knowing that regardless, if this would be the last time they ever sat face to face, they'd leave at least a muddy impression, one that may never fade. "I think ..we are all in agreement that staying in the mountains any longer is...rather unfavorable for our livelihoods."
Her voice sounded louder then when she spoke, the vacant cave did well to have that echo reverb sound. But in all honesty, it only made things seem more tense then it really needs to be. Cardis does not reach for her this time, but C'yra reached for him instead. It wasn't much contact, only a near timid linking of their pinky fingers. Her shaky ones betraying the inner turmoil where her voice did not.
The knight had called them heroes, while she's sitting here, feeling anything but heroic.
Zalie, having almost decided to doze while the group rested, feels a bit ashamed as the sound of rocks come into their cave. Sir Garrus does some kind of fancy hand work and somehow the light show doesn't manage to kill them. She remembers his warning, about if they see this, they'll die quickly. She keeps this in the back of her head to ask him about later. Of course, she was terrified by the sound that appeared after the light, as well, but seeing as they're all alive, she'd rather focus on her questions for now.
As she's offered the candy, she takes one curiously. The hard substance sits on her tongue for a few moments as she contemplates its' texture. The girl seems to enjoy it's flavor for a while before a memory of her second oldest brother appears in her mind's eye. If she were anywhere but in danger, she'd have jumped up and squealed in excitement. For now, she settles for smiling brightly and making note to ask about this candy, as well. "I don't mind trying to go faster," she whispers quietly as the offer is suggested.
Name: Coryn
Location: CAVE? Interaction: Speaking to the Entire group
Status: Mentally here
Coryn took the candy, eating it without much question. Everyone else had eaten one at this point and since they didn't immediately DIE, he assumed that it was safe to consume. Immediately the fatigue that hung over him faded and he did a little stretch to limber up the body.
"There's no use in staying here any longer. If we are to live, we should travel fast," He says firmly before pausing and speaking up again. "I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what I did. I will be better." He nods to the rest of the group, even to those stinky ass elves. Even if they were CANNIBALISTIC INGRATES, they didn't deserve to die here.
"I'll hang near the back of the group, while the one baring the sword should stay with Sir Garrus in case there are complications near the front. I do not know the rest of your capabilities, but with the... tears of.. miho, we will be fine. Keep your guard and ears open. Any items that make noise, remove them now and muffle them. Keep chatter to a minimum. Basic directions can be shown through simple hand gestures. Be aware of your surroundings, be keen on your feet, and we will see the sun once again."
Name: Cardis
Location: Cave Interaction: No one in particular
Status: Hello?? Mmmm Rocks
Cardis listens attentively, taking in all that information he just got. The scowl that Sir Garrus gives makes him shudder slightly, not liking that kind of look on someone with such power. He watches the Knight tip those odd coloured gems into his hands. Cardis can't help but lean in, looking at the rocks. He'd never seen anything like them. Not from someone wearing them or working with them at the shop, but they looked marvelous. He thinks that he could make a fine set of earrings and rings out of them. And then he watches the Knight say they will "help" and watches him eat one of them.
Cardis blinks at the knight for a second. When offered though he goes with his sister to take a purple one and scrutinizes it closely, trying to determine if he can recognize what it is. Such a beautiful gem... Tears of Mheos. After a minute and no answers he shrugs and pops it into his mouth. The sugary gem makes him feel renewed.
'Last time'- the knight had done this before. Well that explains why he knows so much and is so insistent on everything. He looks at the map and then at everyone else. Trial? Heroes? The lot of us are meant to be heroes? He didn't sign up for this shit. But the thought of having to actually run into that thing from earlier- with it's horrendous scream and promise of death.... no. Cardis wants anything but that. He wants to get to safety as quickly as possible, no reason to give that thing more opportunity to kill them all.
He nods his head at C'yra's whispered words. They link pinkies and he speaks up as well, whispering in a hushed tone, "I agree. Faster is better."
Name: Ki'Yith Location: Cave Interaction: Multiple.
Status: MOTHAFUCKINR O C K S
For the first few seconds, her gaze is mainly attracted to the little glass vial. Of course, her curiosity is piqued, and questions are already forming on the tip of her tongue—
Rocks?
Ki'Yith blinks. Blinks again. Blinks a third time.
HOLY SHIT—
With little to no hesitation, the Dwarf is shoving her gloves into her pockets and picking up one of those precious little Tears. The rock feels cold again her flesh, and in some ways it's soothing to her screaming mind. She nearly starts frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog— and who could blame her? This was the epitome of a perfect craft! Of course she'd be silently fawning over such an item that was casually offered to her.
For a few seconds she just stands there and stares at it, expression blank and eyes narrowed. Ki'Yith is thinking long and hard about something, analytical gaze sliding over to watch Sir Garrus stow away the other ToMs. The woman had questions, so many questions. They were forming faster than what she could truly process and string together, and it was partially overwhelming. She wanted to speak, to ask him how the hell he got— or dare she even think, made— these, but she bites her tongue. It would have to wait.
She eats the Tear of Mheo and nearly sheds a damn tear at the taste. Gooey and delicious, tasting impossibly perfect. She nearly moans at the taste— but refrains from doing so. Ki'Yith had some dignity. Shortly after, the desired effects kick in, and she is pumped.
"Echolocation?" Shit.
Quickly, she unhooks the bell from around her neck and tore a page from her journal. A grunt escapes her as she stuffs the paper into the mouth, and it holds the clapper in place. She shoves the bell into her pocket for now, and puts her gloves back on.
Heroes?
Her nose scrunches up a bit at the word. After listening to a few people make their choices, she bobs her head in agreement.
"Faster," She agreed after a moment. Her brain is already going, thinking about how he spoke of seismic sensory. For a brief moment, Ki'Yith placed a palm against one of the bottled explosives on her hip.
hmmm… what if I—
The Dwarf shook her head and huffed. No. No no. That would not be a good idea…
Her gaze trails back up to the group. She wanted to. She really wanted to, but it would be reckless and unsafe. Prehaps better to be a last resort.
Ascending the narrow, icy path, carved into the Drakeback Mountain...
"You've decided then?" Sir Garrus urged. His brow lightly furrowed, expecting a little more. "You realize it is not a game. Just saying 'faster' will not make it so. Coryn has suggested a plan. Perhaps you might want to think about the roles youplay, instead of expecting others to do it for you?"
Zalie frowns in thought for a moment. What does she bring to the table? Well, she supposes she's traveled before, along dangerous pathways and in all kinds of whether. But nothing quiet this dangerous. "Make sure to watch where you step, as well. If its icy, don't push yourself to go to quickly, even if we are trying to go fast." She also takes the suggestion of talking to heart as well. If she's got energy to talk, she can move faster, pay better attention, watch out for the others better, or any other number of things. She pierces her lips together as an indication she will remain quiet and on alert instead of quietly chattering like she had before. Anything else she brings, she's honestly not to sure. For now, she'll focus on what he ideas are unless other suggestions are made.
Quietly making his way to the knight after the others had, Bastian casted fretful glances towards the entrance, even though he couldn't see much. The slowness was not only necessary to keep from making sound, it was because Bastian found himself unable to see in the darkness that fell again after the sudden blinding light- his eyesight barely seemed to be working, but he made it with no sound by the knight's side and took one of the tiny rocks in his own mouth. Tasted sweet. The boy had no idea what it was, but it felt magic- the way it suddenly reinvigorated him, filling him with strength.
Listening intently to the situation as described by Garrus, he tried to peer at the map but he was left filling in the details on his mind as his fuzzy vision didnt allow him to see them directly.
"This is your trial. So you call the shot - how do you want to proceed, heroes?"
For a moment the boy's mind went blank at the address. It wasn't even spoken in a flattering tone, the knight didn't seem one to hold a silver tongue much less in a situation like this, he was simply being pragmatic. It was like the young man's dreams, the consolations of the darkness in that old barn every night he fell asleep as a kid had become real in the most off handed casual way.
No, Sir Garrus may have called them heroes but they still had to play the part if they were to be considered as such. Suddenly in overdrive, an idea came up at the boy's mind.
His eyes searched the darkness and settled on what he thought was Ki'Yith's and Olric's general direction. He had had no reason to let them know before hand, but he had recognized them both during their introductions back at the foot of the mountain. They hailed from the same town, and while the small family smithy he had worked was not one to have a reputation, it was still in the business the two individuals were renowned in. They had no reason to know of Bastian- but he had seen and heard of their talents around town before.
"Could you two make a distraction? Something that could detonate, make noise, set it up so it would work a few hours after our departure when we're long gone. Is that possible?"
The boy hadn't vocally spoken his opinion on whether to go faster or slower, but with the way he had nodded his head and eaten the TOM it was obvious he agreed to go faster and end things by dawn.
Niamh wasn't the most knowledgeable about the glimmering, shiny stones that Garrus held; all she knew is that they were rather pretty and stood out in this monotone landscape, but could also be their salvation. And although Petyr had warned her against the many flaws of taking candy from strangers, she felt safe with the Knight Garrus and as if she could trust him—what choice did she have, anyway?
After sharing her gratitude, she swallowed the rocks in one go, relishing in the sweetness (although she preferred bitter things, that is neither here nor there.) Her muscles relaxed, running over her joints like the water back at home. Home. A word she knows but doesn't quite understand the meaning of. Home is the church, or at least she thinks so. Her mind held onto the faintest grasp of a memory; one she cannot place, but yet she knows. A woman's voice cooed and comforted the cries of a mere babe, covering them with the same warmth she felt now. Soft hands cupping the child's face, soothing them and making them feel safe.
A tear had made itself known, welling up in Niamhs eye before quickly departing. The elf would quickly pat her face dry with a handkerchief before paying attention once more. "I agree about making haste, but what about the halfling? Ernest, I believe? What if he was one of the first to lead, since they're quiet and can see if there's danger ahead without alerting it." It was merely a suggestion, and she also nodded with Bastians suggestion, waiting for an answer from the dwarves.
Name: Ernest
Location: Cave
Interaction: Speaking to the Entire group
Status: Optimistic
There is much going on within Ernest's mind despite his light presence and quiet nature, but all of which is cut off when he hears Sir Garrus' voice cut quietly into the dark, "Take one, it will help."Oh? Is that such and so? Ernest looks on toward the knight's outstretched hand. If he were to be honest, the halfling is not feeling of his greatest. The mountain trek has already taken its toll upon his weakened heart and small frame. If there were something that may help relieve that burden, who is he to refuse? As his father used to say with a full laughter, don't go disregarding no gifts. Free is free, all the more for you and me.
So, deciding to trust in the old man's judgment and the seemingly good will of the knight, Ernest takes one of the peculiar gemstones from his hand while giving a grateful, almost bewildered, "m-most appreciated, Sir," and settling back to his spot near the Elven priestess, Niamh. The Tear he chose seems somehow smaller, as if by some nature it were different than the rest. He always found comfort in what is often overlooked, and without further hesitation, pops the miniature wonder inside his mouth and savors the oncoming sensations it brings.
He knew precisely the making of which memory may come of it... There, sitting on a bench back inside the well-kept Overhill abode, sat a younger halfling than he is now. A warmth spread throughout the chambers from a flickering fire behind the hearth. There was a certain smell in the air, one he's grown so ever fond of: meat pie. It was a delicacy in his home, a great commodity even. He peered through the doorframe of the kitchen as his mother painstakingly rolled the doughs and lit the oven, prepared the meats and seasonings, and took note of every step in his head, thoroughly checking them for use later.With his eyelids faintly closing from the comfort the Tear brought him, he suddenly opens his eyes to their fullest. For the first time in a while, he doesn't feel an ebbing fatigue in his heart. He feels... free—energetic most certainly—as if there were nothing now that could delay his courage.
Ernest listens intently to the rest of what the knight has to say, "This is your trial. So you call the shot - how do you want to proceed, heroes?"With those words, the halfling finds himself bewildered. A hero? No, it shan't be so. For all they are known for, or rather notoriously not known for, halflings rarely go about their lives becoming, as some may say, of the hero sort. They are small creatures and take comfort in being so. Right...? There surely must've been some sort of mis-happenstance for the Sir Garrus Ardell to believe Ernest a hero. Never being known for his physical prowess, even amongst his own kind, he cannot help but suddenly feel shy and out of place.
Yet, here he is, standing with this mixture of a motley crew. There being no better a place to stand other than the cold stone beneath his feet, companions to companion with, and an adventure laid before him, he wonders if maybe they can become what the knight wants them to be. The halfling looks about the darkened cave, not being too bothered by the lack of lighting, and is pleasantly surprised to hear the concurrence of his fellow travelers. This is what he left home for. Yes, this surely was. Delighted by his own self-assurance, Ernest decides it's in his best interest to continue the journey upward with haste, "I-i believe I'd like to continue on with the rest," he adds, "though I mightn't look it, I will go any length another will for me and more. You have my bow and aim, if they are to be found of usefulness." Not entirely fond of dragging others down, he prides himself that he shan't be caught underachieving. He's an Overhill, and Overhills never backed down from a day's labor.
With the possibly boldest of the bunch, Coryn, suggesting a plan and the Sir Garrus Ardell having formed a map and charted course, Ernest follows along as if it were any other busy day back on the farm. He also manages to hear the hushed speakings amongst the two dwarven friends, Olric and Ki'Yith, and gruff human, Bastian, and wonders if such a feat is possible. He wouldn't know much about such a craft anyway. Halflings rarely dealt in artifices and combustibles. Amongst the various conversations going on, he's especially surprised to hear a soft voice to his side, "I agree about making haste, but what about the halfling? Ernest, I believe? What if he was one of the first to lead, since they're quiet and can see if there's danger ahead without alerting it?" It is a rare occurrence for him to be taken note of when not actively making his presence clear, and it takes him a moment to figure out what is being proposed. He ponders to himself, Could he really lead on? It's true that, compared to most races, halflings have remarkable senses, benefitting greatly from such attributes. It's also true that he's more accustomed than most to passing by out of sight and remaining silent almost by necessity. Considering the group as a whole, Ernest decides maybe he is the best candidate for such a role, "if it were to be the will of the present company, I-i don't s'pose I'd mind, well... scouting, as it were. That is, if I may be comforted knowing someone'll have my back in case anything... unnatural happens, I s'pose." With that statement, he waits accordingly for any and everyone to chime their thoughts on the matter in.
Ascending the narrow, icy path, carved into the Drakeback Mountain...
SPEAKING TO: NIAMH, ERNEST & CRYDORA
The paladin slowly nodded, listening to them both as Bastian approached the dwarves with a plan of his own. He found himself enjoying the halfling's upbeat attitude and friendly disposition, and while there was still much time left to see if the boy had what it took, Garrus was almost daring to hope Ernest would make it to the temple.
There were some good eggs. A rough start, but they - for the most part - had the makings of heroes. At least, the types of heroes he needed. After all, to walk the path of the Wyrmguard, one had to be at least a little insane. But what mattered was how well they listened, how hard they could push themselves without needing to be hand-held, and if they could follow orders. Trust, too, was important - he needed to know just how trusting and trustworthy they could be, but naturally, it would come in time.
That was when Niamh spoke up."I agree about making haste, but what about the halfling? Ernest, I believe? What if he was one of the first to lead, since they're quiet and can see if there's danger ahead without alerting it?"
Then Ernest. "If it were to be the will of the present company, I-i don't s'pose I'd mind, well... scouting, as it were. That is, if I may be comforted knowing someone'll have my back in case anything... unnatural happens, I s'pose."
Sir Garrus nodded. "A good idea," he told them both. "If speed is what you're worried about, I can assist with that as well. I was intending to do so for the whole group, in fact. As for someone to go with you, might I suggest Crydora? From observation alone, I dare say she is an experienced hunter herself. She should have the ability to aid you in scouting."
Then, turning to Crydora. "What do you say, girl?" Garrus called to the female elf twin.
Quietly making his way to the knight after the others had, Bastian casted fretful glances towards the entrance, even though he couldn't see much. The slowness was not only necessary to keep from making sound, it was because Bastian found himself unable to see in the darkness that fell again after the sudden blinding light- his eyesight barely seemed to be working, but he made it with no sound by the knight's side and took one of the tiny rocks in his own mouth. Tasted sweet. The boy had no idea what it was, but it felt magic- the way it suddenly reinvigorated him, filling him with strength.
Listening intently to the situation as described by Garrus, he tried to peer at the map but he was left filling in the details on his mind as his fuzzy vision didnt allow him to see them directly.
"This is your trial. So you call the shot - how do you want to proceed, heroes?"
For a moment the boy's mind went blank at the address. It wasn't even spoken in a flattering tone, the knight didn't seem one to hold a silver tongue much less in a situation like this, he was simply being pragmatic. It was like the young man's dreams, the consolations of the darkness in that old barn every night he fell asleep as a kid had become real in the most off handed casual way.
No, Sir Garrus may have called them heroes but they still had to play the part if they were to be considered as such. Suddenly in overdrive, an idea came up at the boy's mind.
His eyes searched the darkness and settled on what he thought was Ki'Yith's and Olric's general direction. He had had no reason to let them know before hand, but he had recognized them both during their introductions back at the foot of the mountain. They hailed from the same town, and while the small family smithy he had worked was not one to have a reputation, it was still in the business the two individuals were renowned in. They had no reason to know of Bastian- but he had seen and heard of their talents around town before.
"Could you two make a distraction? Something that could detonate, make noise, set it up so it would work a few hours after our departure when we're long gone. Is that possible?"
The boy hadn't vocally spoken his opinion on whether to go faster or slower, but with the way he had nodded his head and eaten the TOM it was obvious he agreed to go faster and end things by dawn.
The moment the boy's eyes laid onto her and he spoke, her hand drops to the items on her hip, the leather of her gloves rubbing against the cold glass. Ki'Yith felt like she recognized that bald head from somewhere, but she didn't have much time to ponder on it.
"Ah well you see…" her gaze trails to Olric for a moment before she sighed and nodded.
"I have a few things that could work, yes," she admits, scratching her cheek. Her gaze flicks back to Bastian, and then the others. She cleared her throat and spoke in a much louder voice for everyone to hear.
"I have uh… explosives on me. Crafted 'em myself. Nothin' too big." her gaze goes to Sir Garrius and she gives a faint grin.
"You said it was two hours till we get there? I think the most I can get out of one of these is… 'round eighty (80) minutes, give or take." Her gaze flicks to Olric, and she hummed, scratching at her cheek. The gears in her head were going, spinning and churning and powering her thoughts, trying to come up with something—
"Olric you still got that kit on you?" Her gaze is on her best buddy, and she nudged him with her hip and repeated her question.
Ascending the narrow, icy path, carved into the Drakeback Mountain...
[Feel free to conclude your discussions prior to this as well as continuing on.]
OlricandKi'Yith worked together to craft a device that delayed its explosion, while Ernest and Crydora scouted ahead. Everyone else began moving out once it seemed the dwarves were almost done, the bulk of the group leaving them to make the final adjustments. From this point, Sir Garrus allowed them to lead, signifying that their trial really had begun.
The ToMs made you feel like you could run forever, there was no muscle pain and no fatigue, even though you were essentially climbing the near-verticle path. It was a rule of travel discussed before leaving that the group would stay far enough behind Ernest and Cryadora so that they remained out of sight. So once they came into view, everyone slowed, and if they appeared to have stopped, there was a signal, and people would stay put and quiet.
This is where you are all at now. You had noticed that Ernest and Crydora had stopped, and froze in place...
• • • • • •
POV: ERNEST & CRYDORA
The two of you had left around twenty-five minutes before everyone else had, but with the ToMs your travel was quick. Keeping alert, you would check all of your surroundings, taking turns - around, below and above just like Sir Garrus had. You could even see the entry to the next cave up ahead - this one much larger and wider as the path opened up onto an overhanging ledge. A smooth stone plateau before the stairs continued, winding up and around a bend. This meant that not only did the ToMs help you feel better, but they also made travelling much faster, meaning the likelihood of arriving at the temple by dawn was much more promising.
In total, it had been almost forty minutesnow since the both of you had started ahead of the rest, but for over half of that, you had been at a standstill. Ernesthad heard it first: footsteps in the cave. Not a welcome sound on the desolate mountain, and so you froze.
Unsure if what you were hearing was a person or a creature mimicking a person to lure you in - which all hunters had some experience with evil spirits in the Green Maw, who did a similar thing to prey on the living - you aired on the side of caution and waited.
This proved to be the best idea you could have made.
It was still dark, but with the limited night-vision that an elf and a halfling could have you managed to make out a figure walking out of the cave. It appeared to be a male build and a little stocky - muscular and covered in a mixture of scarves and tight armour that reflected similarly to leather in the moonlight; not hide, or metal, but a dim reflection off of a smooth surface, but you could make out the dual scimitars - large curved shamshir blades - sheathed on his back. Colours were absent.
At first, they could be mistaken for a human, but the longer you stared, the more certain you became certain that this was not the case. They might have been an elf with how short they were - around five feet tall - or a really tall dwarf. Without better vision, a lack of light and his covered garments, you couldn't determine anything more specific than that.
His boots - steel-capped and chunky - clomped on the stone as he walked towards the ledge, peering down the mountain, and then stepping back to look up the path you were supposed to be headed in. He was looking for something - someone. Dread pitted your stomach, and you ducked just in time as he glanced back in your direction.
You only dared to look up again as you heard the figure walk back to the ledge and hold up his hand, palm to the sky as an orb of hot, bright light blipped like a flashing pulse. It was so brief that you didn't even have time to blink. It stunned you for a moment, but when your eyes adjusted back, the figure was already headed up the path, ascending higher up the mountain in a hurry.
Name: C'yra Location: Ascending the Frozen Wasteland of a Mountain
Interaction: No one in particular Status:Well, we're fucked. :D
C'yra had agreed to the knight Garuss' suggestion of her to go with the halfling's, Ernest's 'scout ahead' mission. At the expense of her twin, unfortunately, he'd have to wander around following the group some twenty forty minutes behind her now. Hopefully he's not too nervous, and could make a friend, Crydora always wishes he'd make a nice friend he could talk to that's not her. Well, she loves him and all but she really does think he should get out more, he'd make for good company.
Her twin's safety was always her first concern, though she pushed that to the side for now, knowing that he'd be safer back there then up here. Allowing her to be more focused on their current surroundings, ears perked for the slightest crunch of snow beneath ever present footfalls and eyes peeled for any hint of foreign shadows. But her ears were never as good as that of the halfling's she suppose.
Ernest froze first, making the elf pause in her step, alarmed, she expanded her senses in the sudden rush of adrenaline. It was then that she heard it, the distant crunching of snow, not behind them, no. But in front. In response, she had bended her knee a slight bit, brows furrowed, turning pupils to slits as she tried to navigate the dark snow covered path up ahead with sights alone.
In the pitch black veil of the night, she managed to make out a figure walking out of the cave. A male, a little stocky -and covered in scarves and armour that looked to be made out of leather. And weapons, large and curved and proper deadly in all sorts of way, both blades sheathed, snug on his back. There were no colors, but she could've sworn she'd seen the man in vague hints of golden, bloody red glints that reflects off his mere existence.
She must be seeing things.
The man, thing, person, the longer she stared the less it even looked like any comprehensible being; Swiveled its head, left, right, positioned by the ledge. It was looking at the path, as if expecting something, expecting them. Dread tugged at her gut, along with the instinctive need to hide away, visibility is low in the dead of night, she can only hope this thing can't see any better then they can under the veil of darkness.
C'yra pulled Ernest down, ducking just out of sight before the predator-like stranger could see them. Only daring to peek back out when the metal clanking of their boots hit stone just far enough along the ledge that there's a safer distance between them. Though she can't say it was any better to see what happened next.
It was light, like a mini sun held in the palm of the stranger, it was bright, it was hot and it was pulsing, like a heart that struggled to continue functioning, with insatiable hunger for oxygen to keep it pumping.
Exactly like the light that had threatened to incinerate them mere minutes prior.
She could've sworn her own heart stopped beating a few seconds when she made that connection. Only snapping into focus once more when she sees the man hurry up the path, as if in pursuit. To ambush? Perhaps? Or to set up traps. Neither option sounds very appealing.
She had to consciously tell herself to breathe once the stranger was far gone, creeping over to the entrance of the cave to take a quick glance inside, see if she finds anything, mostly to satisfy her curiosity, and the other half being investigative on whatever clue might be left behind to identify the strange. Before she gestures to Ernest, and the rest of the group trailing behind. Whispering, mostly to herself: "I don't think it's safe we stay here.."
Name: Coryn
Location: Ascending the Mountain? (25 minutes later than the scouts?)
Interaction: [Free to Interact]
Status: Things are definitely happening.
Coryn really had no idea what everyone else was doing, truthfully. He knew that two went out to scout while the others were making some sort of noise device that he couldn't really fathom at the moment. He left the tinkering to the two dwarves who knew what they were doing. It's best that he kept out of their way. He had not much to say to the rest of the party, especially since the enemy could be echolocating them. Instead, he kept to his promise, straying near the back of the group and keeping a watchful eye. His grip stayed firm on both shield and weapon as they ascended the mountain.
Name: Cardis
Location: Ascending the Mountain? (25 minutes later than the scouts?)
Interaction: [Free to Interact]
Status: Wow
Cardis did not know what was happening. All he knew was they were sending his sister ahead of him and unfortunately, he couldn't go with her. The plan sent his stomach twisting in fear and discomfort as he watched them head out before the rest of them. Those dwarven were doing something else he didn't quite understand and he kept away from them, not wanting to get in their way. Better he doesn't get in anyone's way. Now without his sister around and the idea that these things could echolocate them or be drawn by any noises had him thoroughly shutting up. He follows the group, just ahead of Coryn and doesn't say a word unless spoken to.
FUCKIN
R O C K S
