New to Giralda, I see. Well, it takes all sorts around here. Take that shifty-eyed weasel by the fire.
Oh, he acts looks like a simple merchant, peddling meager wares, but watch what you say around him. The Empire’s got ears everywhere...
See those two there? They seem all chummy now, but that’s only because Var is trying to convince Jarek to desert the navy in Thisbē and join
those lawless bastards who sail from the Spice Isles. I’m sure that one will kill the other before the week is out, once they’ve got what they want from each other.
Then there’s always the usual mercs; bastards who’d happily kill their own mothers for a coin. Oh, they say those twins from Brelan aren’t so bad,
but a merc is a merc, and money is all they see.
At least there're no damned elves here tonight. One got uppity last month when I insisted the
bastard slept in the stables. A damn generous offer for a half-breed, if you ask me!
Mind yourself if you head into the Wilds. It’s full of things that
would happily eat you and shit you out without a second thought. Even the people who hunt those things are more beast than civil.
what'll it be: a room, or a drink?
CURRENT MONTH: DJALAY, 762
The summer heat swells to nigh unbearable. Nights do not bring the same relief they did before the solstice. Rain is extremely rare. If it rains at all, it comes in short intense bursts; hardly enough to soak the ground. Droughting and wildfires are commonplace in lowlands.
Januray 2023 The site month has changed! Old & new Solstice threads may still continue at your leisure. + The Forsaken Temple campaign has started! The opening thread can be found in Brelan. This is set with enough time after Solstice events that characters will have no issue doing both.
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January 2022 Happy New Year! We hope everyone had wonderful holidays and a good start to 2022. ♡ The current site month has been moved to Sondu of 762. There are some updates for Noria's post-earthquake progress and info on a major in-game holiday at the end of Sondu - this can be celebrated anywhere on the map but the 'main' event will be held in Thisbē.
December 2021 Soft hiatus - have a safe, warm, and minimally dysfunctional holiday season!
Post by Kerr Blackwood on Jan 2, 2023 16:43:18 GMT -6
Thornton, a modest-sized town at a crossroads in the central portion of Brelan, it sported warehouses for traders to swap goods and coffee houses for the same to make deals. It had great wagon yards for the vehicles that facilitated inland trade and taverns for the men that operated and guarded those vehicles. The scattering of houses that ringed the foothills immediately around it were all close to the town's edge if not blending with it, with little vegetable gardens and the like tended by the spouses of the warehouse workers, tavern maids, and coffee slingers. It had exactly six town guards with the power to deputize caravan guards as needed but nobody got out of hand. This was a place of business and simple routine. But, most importantly, on the eastern edge of the easternmost wagon yard, there was a bustle of activity where those who had been hired for a peculiar expedition had been told to meet on this inauspicious day.
A flatbed wagon, loaded with wooden crates and topped with leather bundles, was pulled up off to the side of a line of similar wagons all being loaded with similar cargo. Beside the lone wagon was a line of wooden framed canvas backpacks all obviously partially packed already. The porters loading the other wagons were intent on their business and ignoring the area other than to direct any newcomers to stand by the lone wagon. When they'd gathered Kerr came bounding from out of nowhere and climbed atop the lone wagon. "Excellent, you're all here... just a tick," He turned and leaned down, grabbing the robed Dwarf that was attempting to follow him up the back of the wagon and pulling her up to the top. He then went back to standing to address those gathered while she worked her way to standing despite the robes trying to tangle around her legs.
"I am Kerr Blackwood and this is Darla Bitterbite, our Sage and Patron. Sage Bitterbite has hired me to organize and lead this expedition. To that end, I have employed all of you as we've individually agreed. That is a daily rate, hazard pay when applicable, your name in the good Sage's papers about this matter, and if any a piece of any profit made once valuation is concluded. Some of you know me, some of you don't, but I can assure you my reputation is one of dependability no matter who you hear of me from... except my exes but they're biased, naturally." He gave a self-deprecating shrug. "So, to start, out of the expedition funds and not your pay I have provided each of you with some gear for the trail to ensure everyone is fully prepared. A solid, good quality pack with a military tent... for those of you unfamiliar it's going to seem like not much but it can be configured a lot of different ways including being combined with a friend's to give you both more space."
"Also a bedroll, canteen, rope, hammer & pitons, flint & steel, colorful ribbon for trail marking, a whistle in case you get lost, rain gear because we're marching through Brelan, and extra space for your clothing or any other personal affects you wish to take with you. You don't have to use the packs if you have your own but I do recommend transferring the provided gear over to your pack. Keep in mind, the frame on those provided packs will make hauling any acquired loot back a lot easier. Take it from me, the voice of experience, trying to carry something heavy overland in a leather sack over one shoulder will give you a sore back that'll last for weeks." The Dwarf tugged on his arm and the armored man glanced down at her, leaning in for her to whisper something. "I've been reminded," he stated as he stood straight once again. "that we are providing food for the journey. That's a warm breakfast, a hot dinner, and rations to nibble on round noon time. Our good Sage was appalled at the idea of campaign food and wanted that you should know that."
He gave it all with good humor and patted the Dwarf woman on her shoulder as she beamed out at the gathered individuals. "You're my specialists, the expedition's guards. You won't be carrying cargo when the wagons have to be left behind but you will be expected to take watch and keep alert for trouble on the trail. Scouting duty, rear guard, investigating the unusual, or whatever tactical concerns you were hired for are going to fall on our capable shoulders. Sage Bitterbite has identified a possible site of some great interest to her, a lost temple of some sort from the high age of Elves, and we're going to be trying to find it. We will be traveling to the east into the Grent Mountains to a village called Tulcet that I am assured makes wonderful yarn using some form of long necked sheep..." He glanced down at the Dwarf who'd said a single word before he corrected himself. "Llama. So, with that said, does anyone have any questions or concerns before we get this show on the road?"
Post by Valik Rasvadian on Jan 4, 2023 22:42:10 GMT -6
There would always be a hatred within the heart of the titan for civilization. It was toxic how they could interact so peacefully. It was uncommon to him and whilst it wasn't something to fear…..It made his skin crawl. If it had been up to him he'd never partake in the joining of blades for a common cause. Yet, Vaddix had ordered and he would follow through.
-Throw your life away for them.-
The order was simple and to the point, it justified itself in its brutality and colossal bluntness. A breeze lifted the see-through silk that hung vertically on either of his torso. It rose up and around his scarred throat, not bothering to wrap it. A simple draping of cloth across skin. The sun was blazing in the heavens, it's rays untarnished as there was no clouds in the sky. His heavy skull tilted back and up looking at the orb of heat and light through the holes upon his metallic helmet.
-How long had it been?. How many moons had passed, how many times had the earth circled the sun, since he had put on the helmet?
That's right. He had been eight years old when he discovered the dead man. Eight years old when he put that mask on to shield his feral face from the faces of men and women. -Humanity was dead to him.- The muscles within his shoulders stiffened as he straightened his spine, these houses were average in size. Typical for the height of the humans that resided inside, to him they were nothing more than huts for goblins. The elongated horns glistened in the sun and as their tips came up damn near to the middle of the roof.
There had been instructions given to him to meet the rest of the protected here. Never before had he met the souls of this mission, but orders were orders. He'd lay down his life for them and they would forget him within a moon or two. The heat was almost unbearable within that iron mask, exhaling only caused condensation to appear. His boots were silent as he walked down a tiny beaten path among the grass, dust rising from each footfall, whirling around his bare shins before dissipating into the air.
There were several clusters of wagons with crowds gathering to make what these beings called trade. Despite that, there was a lone wagon. The golden haired doll man was just hopping up into the back of the wagon. The long white hair of his helmet hung down his back, idly swinging just as his hips did. There were beads of sweat along his dark caramel skin, tanned heavily by years on the sea. There were some individuals already around the wagon, all of them unique in nature.
Just then the pretty man shouted out to the group; too many words. Every time they should've ceased more poured from his lips. The beast came to a stop behind the gathering of……- Comrades?... Cannon fodder? Nye, this group of individuals were more like vip's- The man named Kerr spoke about packs, with survival equipment and rain gear. -Rain gear?- He'd tip his head at the notion of needing protection from water. Was it acidic? It caused him to slightly raise his palms, looking down at his own body. There were only silk robes that graced his wide hips, barely covering anything; merely enough for one's own imagination.
The brute carried nothing in means of weapons, gear, or assortments. This was after all a mission into the wilds. The Wilds. His home. The sea had merely been a side piece. The unknown would forever be his true love.- Yes, in terms of gear the only thing he had were the heavy bandages wrapping around his forearms and palms. Then beneath the white silk upon his hip was a single veil of black liquid, that sloshed around as he moved.
There had also been words of pay and fortune but that was all to be ignored. Rasvadians didn't need money, this was about building relations, or something along the lines of trust. His electric blue eyes hidden from the world examined his own legs, the bandages wrapped around his ankles and calves remained intact. A steady rise and fall of his chest as the dwarf was mentioned. Her name was BitterBite. Sage. Then advice of adding his gear to the group's own gear. -Yaddie Yadda Fuckin Yadda. How much could one man talk?
The knuckles upon the warrior's hands popped as his nails dug into the wraps around his hands. One could say he was eager to slaughter something, but then again, it was a sensation embedded deep into his moral compass. -Seek, Find, Kill, Ask questions later.- His brother had always been the diplomatic one, his life's foundations had been built among the sheer need to fight. It had all been meaningful and he had found joy in every final breath. Every event committed to memory, etched into his brain like a brand, all his kills had a special place inside his soul. -More would be added.-
Under normal circumstances, Jackson would not have been the first to volunteer his time or barely there energy for a group expedition. As fate would have it, however, he was due for a bit of a recess from his duties in Vanyar and idle hands were never a good thing for him to have. When a friend had suggested him for the journey he basically agreed, no questions asked. She had been trustworthy enough so far, and he didn’t mind some hijinks when it came down to it. If it was a faulty venture, there was always an option for his escape plan.
The meeting place was easy enough to find, and Jackson was surprised to learn it was such an organized event. His last experience with any rogue journeying had seemingly been slapped together at the last minute leading to chaos down the (literal) road. He took in the faces surrounding them, the majority of them new and unknown to him. This would be an interesting experience.
Jackson listened carefully to Kerr, a low laugh coming from behind his lips at the mention of exes. He didn’t really have enough consistency to have any of those, but certainly understood the sentiment. The man carried on to explain what was in the packs, again pleasantly surprised to hear they had been so well outfitted. He brought his own bag, but it was mostly empty and could certainly fit inside the one that had been provided.
“Combined with a friend…” he whispered to his left, nudging the peredhel who had been the reason he was on this trip in the first place. Their friendship had not been shocking considering their best friends - who were suddenly inseparable - but it had taken some interesting turns since their initial meeting. Jackson had considered Idrial someone he could now trust without much consideration, which wasn’t something that always came so easily to him.
Jackson almost raised his hand when Kerr asked if there were any questions, but thought better of revealing himself as too much of a jokester at the beginning of their acquaintance.
Post by Idrial Belinor on Jan 11, 2023 22:34:45 GMT -6
idiculous. They were going to look positively ridiculous.
Idrial thought she understood the nature of the expedition they were about to embark upon. And then there was the uniform. Tailored at Kerr’s own expense specifically for this quest. When he delivered the bizarre garment - strangely gaudy and frilly and still somehow militaristic - she at first thought he must be joking. Except that he had been in such earnest about the whole thing, she decided to believe him. Sort of.
It was the color (a garish pink) more than anything that made Idrial suspect her willingness to overgenerously give people the benefit of the doubt was being toyed with. Though, not with enough conviction to outright refuse to wear the awful thing. If she saw Kerr was truly dressed the same - as he swore he and everyone would be - she had no idea what the hell they were getting into that such attire would be a benefit.
“He saved your life…” she reminded herself, heaving a resigned sigh as she started to dress. At least there wasn’t a mirror.
* * * *
The healer was fashionably late for Kerr’s introductory speech. She bit back a blasphemous curse upon seeing not so much as a hint of fuschia amongst the others. Idrial managed to feign some measure of dignity, channeling the unwavering confidence of King Isto she had witnessed so many times. Oh, how he would love to see her now.
She was deciding whether or not she was entitled to some manner of revenge when she took a spot among the recruits next to Jackson. His was the first familiar face Idrial had noted in the small crowd but was pleasantly surprised to see the other two on her recommendation had decided to join as well. It was a diverse group and she was interested to learn more about everyone as they journeyed together.
Assuming anyone was going to take her the least bit seriously… She glanced down at the outfit again and cringed. Gods.
At Jackson’s nudge, her gaze snapped to his. Idrial broke into a grin at the saucy little half-joke and turned a shade of pink not dissimilar to her uniform. “Stooop,” she giggle-whispered, gently bumping her elbow back into his.
Had Idrial been a braver woman (or not entirely sober) she might have heckled Kerr a little about his lack of uniform. She bit her tongue, though, having no desire to draw every eye to her in a single humiliating instance - whether she was controlling it or not. Instead, she simply waited for him to make eye contact with her and silently shot him a rude two-fingered gesture coupled with a humored pursing of her lips.
Post by Vaiva Nine Lives on Jan 13, 2023 1:42:30 GMT -6
Vaiva nine Lives
Thief, 27 years old, human
Gender: Female (She/her) Origin: Bergast, Brelan
Who knows if the thief was here from the beginning of the speach or just arrived, she was as mobile as any other part of the background. She kept to herself, but close enough to hear what Kerr was saying, yet at the same time got a good overview of the others who showed up for this meeting. She would make sure they got rich or at least provide for herself. Vaiva had no desire to return to prison and had Kerr to thank for that, he managed to get them to let her go - temporarily.
But Vaiva had plans, as soon as this mission would come to an end, she would disappear. Anyone would think she died in an Elvish ruin, no one would question it. It was a dangerous mission, everyone knew that - many would not even return… She smiles to herself, sure, she could have been running away now without anyone noticing too. But that Elvish treasure lay before her like an elusive mirage. She simply couldn't help herself from wanting to try to grab it. Vaiva had some equipment she needed to get, some new picklocks and what else one could find in a thief’s toolkit. She would gladly take that provided backpack as well. But the clothes would probably wouldn't suit her, either in taste, function or shape. So she would have to get a couple of extra changes and make sure they had the secret pockets like a thief that Vaiva preferred.
To be honest, she was skeptical of most of the people here; but she was especially to that giant who would likely trigger the most sensitive traps just by breathing inside a ruin. It does not bode well. She raised her hand as question time began, hoping Kerr would see her. If not, she would still ask her question, loud enough and hope someone heard her dull voice. "When to we leave? I need to arrange a few things before we go."
Post by Kerr Blackwood on Jan 24, 2023 18:29:20 GMT -6
Kerr couldn't help himself, his polite and political smile worked about several times as he tried to suppress a full on belly laugh that threatened to overwhelm his self-control. The sight of Idrial arriving in the obviously fake uniform, as garish an eye-sore as had ever existed that it had cost Kerr twice as much as a real one would have just to make up for the hit to the seamstress' reputation if anyone ever found out about the thing. Coin well spent, he thought to himself as he had to look down and examine a random spot on top of the cargo he stood on and poked at with the toe of his boot. He was going to have to be very nice to her after lights out, a good lingering massage to smooth away the kinks and cramps of a long day on the road. At least she had a friend out there, who apparently wanted in her pants if his body language was anything to go by. Lucky gal, nothing quite as fun as a glut of options when in the middle of nowhere.
Someone actually piped up with a question, though, and that got Kerr back on course. "An excellent question. My desire is for you all to meet here an hour before sunrise so we can be on the road with the light. It'll make this first bit a lot easier to navigate, we'll make good distance, and be at a solid campsite before dark." More importantly, they'd be past the lazier and less wise bandit groups with that early start leaving more energy for fighting off the well prepared and hard working ones. Day two was going to be a rough one. "Until then you're all free to make whatever preparations, plans, nefarious plots, and clandestine moves you please." All in good humor but fair warning that he wasn't dumb. "Try not to get in trouble though, I won't have time or energy for bailing you out before morning. Even if I've done it before in the past." He gave a look that said somebody knew what he was referring to.
"Any more questions fit for the group? If not I'll hang about after this little group meeting and you can bring me private questions then. And complaints, for those already chewing on one." He bit his lip and stared into the space above everybody's head to resist another laugh that he knew he couldn't hold in if he looked directly at Idrial at the moment.
Post by Lucas Dahl on Jan 25, 2023 16:00:31 GMT -6
ucas was absolutely ecstatic at the thought of learning more about his culture and who his people were. The thought of learning sent him into a tizzy normally, but the thought of going on a research expedition nearly made him faint. Kerr had approached him not long ago, offering a job that Lucas could not bare to turn down. He hadn't wasted any time in accepting the mans proposal, even though Lilith hadn't been to keen on the idea of him going off with a bunch of strangers into some old Elven ruins. Luc being Luc, he managed to calm her down and convince her that this job would get them even closer to their goal of buying the Apothecary from the sickly old man they called a mentor.
Now, as he approached the gathered group all staring near blank faced at Kerr as he explained what it was they were supposed to be doing, he couldn't help but blush at his own tardiness. Though other may have spewed nonsense excuses, Lucas knew they woulnd't care so he managed to keep his mouth shut as Kerr finished his explanation. "Just one!" He piped up, stepping forward with a crooked smile on his face. "Do I get to keep what I find? 'Cause I wanna take some of it home with me."
Thornton, Brelan. Another country side full of farm lands, animals, and small minded people. This, most certainly, was not the type of place that a mage such as Nymeria Liao would spend their time. However, there she was standing among the common rabble listening to a human male explain the venture. The group of explorers were to find and enter an temple left from the age of elves. Nymeria had no interest in elves or their temples, but the person who hired her did. [break][break]
Nira'lia Brivera was a well known mage and elven scholar of the mage's guild. For years, the elder elf had been searching for elven temples for relics and items from a time long forgotten by most. Nira'lia explained her fascination as simple nostalgia, but no one knew what was going on inside the mind of the secretive eccentric elf. Nymeria wasn't concerned with her reasons, and her motives seemed honest enough either way.[break][break]
The reason that the young mage had accepted the job was because she had been asked by a mage of the guild, and because she needed the coin. The life of luxury that she had come to know and enjoy couldn't be sustained by will or wish alone. Currency was the language of the world and as of late, Nymeria had found herself nearly speechless. [break][break]
She had herself to blame, and she'd been warned that her high standards for clothing, and trinkets would be the death of her. Still, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light was Nira'lia Brivera. She promised a generous sum for the job as well as allowing Nymeria to keep whatever pay and loot she gained from the expedition. The only thing that the elven mage wanted was information on the temple, detailed of course, and should they uncover any elven relic it should be brought to her. [break][break]
The job sounded simple enough, and she doubted there was much to it. It was highly probable that this would be another delve into a ruin that turned out to be man made like so many others had. Nymeria assumed that was the reason why Nira'lia tasked her with the job instead of going herself. So it would be, and easy job with a nice pay out so that life could resume in comfort.[break][break]
Nymeria looked at the wagons assembled, those full of wooden crates and leather bundles. She looked around at the others in the group of what could only be defined as misfits, and she looked at the two standing atop the lone wagon. They were a rag tag crew at best, without a proper guard to be found. Their prospects didn't look great. [break][break]
After his speech, the leader of the group allowed questions but only one person bothered to speak up. They were journeying into the wild for to an unknown location and no one had any questions. Apparently even they didn't believe there was any fruit to find. "I have a question." She spoke up after a second person asked a question that they all must have been wondering. "Do you know the name of the temple we are looking for? What is it that you expect to find there?"
Post by Eliza Dubois on Feb 18, 2023 9:29:38 GMT -6
Eliza thinned her lips as she scanned the group. Just what was Idrial wearing? When she gets the chance to, she is going to offer the other woman a change of clothing. Besides that, their leader, Kerr, talked far too much for her liking. Another scan doesn't raise her hopes that this trip would be fruitful. No one here looks particularly strong, save for their leader and the man wearing the mask nearby. Eliza sighs and rubs Isto II's neck. The horse huffs and paws the ground a bit. They were both impatient to get on the move.
Once Kerr was done...flapping about...Eliza approached Idrial. "My friend...if I may call you that, do you need a new outfit?"
Post by Idrial Belinor on Feb 19, 2023 18:56:45 GMT -6
drial wore a friendly smile at the duchess’ approach and politely dipped her head. “Eliza,” the peredhel greeted her warmly, pleased that she decided to join this venture. Idrial opted to address her informally, knowing that she preferred it and also presuming Eliza may not have wanted her title to be common knowledge yet. If nothing else, it was not Idrial’s place to decide when to divulge that information to the rest of the group.
“Of course you may,” Idrial answered unhesitatingly when Eliza asked if she could be called a friend. They were not particularly close as of yet but had bonded some when the duchess spent a little time in Thisbē a few months earlier. It pleased her that Eliza thought of her as a friend and had hoped as much. Idrial did not have many women in her circle of friends, owing in large part to the often disgusting nature of her work as a healer as well as the long hours.
Idrial’s polite smile widened into a broad grin, full of humor. She only just managed to keep from bursting out laughing at the duchess’ immediate comment about her outfit. “I thank you for the offer, truly” she gently declined; explaining, “This was something of a joke. I assure you I will be dressed in a far less mad fashion before we take to the road.” Her cheeks reddened a little.
Eager to change the subject, she decided to introduce her unacquainted friends. “Eliza, this is Jackson. He will be joining the expedition with us. Jackson, Eliza.”
Post by Kerr Blackwood on Feb 20, 2023 12:26:10 GMT -6
"Another excellent, and pertinent, question friend Lucas." He intoned happily, glad to answer it organically instead of having to come around and pass it like a law. The Dwarf woman was wringing her hands nervously though. "Our generous patron here gets first pick of whatever we find owing to the fact that this entire endeavor is due to her resources, research, and knowledge. However, take heart, the good sage is an academic through and through. She is in search of books, scrolls, writings of any and all sorts and the great thing about that is copies can be made for any interested in them. The propagation of knowlege is of paramount importance to this endeavor as a whole if not to each of us individually. Precious minerals, jewels, and who knows what else... well, we ask only that you allow the good sage to catalogue them before you run for your nearest merchant to turn it into coin."
He looked to the mage's question next before running a hand through his hair and glancing at the Dwarf, whom made a gesture for him to go on. "I'm told there's only ever been one direct mention of it in any writings thus far found. I read the statement myself. While the Sage says it translates to the very romantic 'Well of Memories' it read to me as 'unforgotten cistern'. But Elven is a... somewhat... flowery tongue at the best of times and High Elven even worse. The reason it hasn't been discovered yet is that almost nobody talked about it directly, rather referencing it in passing as if everybody should already know what and where it was." The Dwarven Sage pulled on his sleeve and he leaned in to listen. "And that's likely because it was firmly in the control of a single, powerful family and thus like referring to the shed out back of your house to your brother. You eventually get to the point of just calling it 'the building'." Kerr assumed, he'd never had a house until he bought one for his father. Or a brother for that matter.
"As for what we will find there... what does one usually find at a state sponsored temple? Artifacts, records, unnecessary displays of wealth as if they equate to holiness. Given it was an important holding I am hoping to find some manner of armory full of High Elven war-gear. The leather and cloth will be in ruins but they made armor and weapons of such craft... but I digress." He swept his hand across the group. "Any more?"
Post by Nox Nightingale on Feb 21, 2023 16:40:03 GMT -6
If anyone noticed she was late they didn’t bother to comment. She stood behind her companion, praying his significant height might help hide her. She didn’t make that easy on herself either, with the clear lack of modesty in her outfit. Of course, she prepared some practical gear too, more suited for an expedition. She could only hope her sense of style wouldn’t distract the party too much. Nox didn't intend to dress down either. The heat made it difficult to stay conspicuous, not to mention a face meant to stand out. A hood was an option but in a small crowd, was more likely to seem suspicious. Normally, she would've delighted in the attention. But with so many unfamiliar companions, minus Valik and Kerr, she was afraid to draw attention. There were still the bounties to concern herself with. And after her last brush with death at the hands of her pursuers, she was showing more caution.
There was a bright side in that fewer seemed as eager to collect on her head. If she had to guess, word got around about her charming new bodyguards. “That looks rather heavy.” She whispered to Valik with a frown. “Might you carry my pack too when we leave?” It was less of a question and more of an expectation. She often abused his inability to complain, especially on trips into town. Many a shopping trip he spent with an armful of boxes at her leisure. That wasn't to say she didn't intend to pull her own weight during the trip. Only she was useless it came to physical labor.
"-we are providing food for the journey…”
In truth, when she agreed to come she half expected bread and sausage water to be served at every meal. While the thought of ingesting campfire food made her nauseous, she’d be sore to admit that she’d eaten worse. The family heirlooms she borrowed only went so far before she met the Rasvadians. Cheap ale, stale bread, and kidney stew were commonly served at lower-class taverns. Over the last few months, until recently, she learned what it was like to live without wealth. A stranger to dirt, sweat, and blood, she was no more. Though that didn’t mean she would endure those things if she didn’t have to.
Nox listened to the details of their trip with interest. She crossed her arms and rested her chin upon her knuckles. Her eyes narrowed and chin lifted, thoughtful—calculating. It was not jewels or minerals that piqued her interest. There could be priceless magical artifacts, weapons, armor, and books. Knowledge was far more valuable than any petty trinket. Her eyes settled on their lovely short-statured sage. Later she might find the time to ask further questions about the temple. It couldn’t hurt to learn more, Elven language and history were some of the topics she actually found interesting as a child. A mysteriously vague temple in the middle of nowhere was even more enticing. Nox was actually excited to begin the journey. With most of her questions already answered, she simply shook her head.
ucas chuckled at Kerr's response to his question. He could work with that. He looked at the woman who arrived a bit later than the rest, watching the lumbering giant behind her with little to no fear lighting his gaze. His lack of caution said a lot about his thoughts on life and how it could be short and how you should live it to the fullest, but also he should most definitely be more cautious around such large men. All he could see, though, were the rippling muscles on the males forearms, on his back. He could just tell that he was built like a brick and couldn't stop the so-called heart-eyes that beat like a drum as he gazed at the pair.
His pointed ears visibly twitched (on purpose, for sure, not like he was going to turn beat red at the slightest interaction with the beast) at the comment about the shed, though his laughter was contained (very well, if he should say so hisself) before settling back on his heels to watch the ensuing questions and other such shenanigans as they extracted more and more information about the party's tasks from the judicar. He would take notes throughout the function, and nod along, but otherwise would stay quiet.
/ this will be my last post in this thread unless Lucas is directly spoken to or interacted with!