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Author Topic: Respite in the Vale  (Read 36074 times)
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #45 on: July 14, 2007, 10:21:16 AM »

Off to one side there is some rustling of leaves as someone - or something - pushes through the undergrowth.  Ta'las stops and puts his hand on the pommel of his sword, but quickly draws his hand away from his weapon when Capher appears.  He does not have a chance to speak before his friend asks if he "has heard".

Ta'las cocks his head to one side.  "I - uh - no.  Heard of what?"  He looks quizzically at Capher.  "I've heard of nothing, but I have been looking for Kenrill.  Has something happened?" he asks, now worried.  The Shendar looks ahead through the understory, and listens.

His eyes widen as he thinks he hears something screaming in the distance.  "What is happening?" he demands.  His hand now rests firmly on the pommel of his sword.
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Capher
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« Reply #46 on: July 15, 2007, 05:46:56 AM »

Capher took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering Tal'as's question. "I was talking with the Brownies when some others flew in and said that Ken had maimed some of their kind and was fighting with them. I did not hear a reason why. I then rushed toward where they said Ken and the brownies were fighting. I saw you and thought you had heard as well and were heading in same direction. If you had not heard anything, why were you heading that way? You can tell me as we continue on for I fear that if we cannot somehow figure out a way to stop this we may not be welcomed anymore and it may interfere with Lady Talia and Terra's healing process."

Capher began running again, knowing that his young friend would soon out-distance him, but Ken's postition was not that far now. "Oh, keep your sword sheathed, no matter what happens," Capher shouted.
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #47 on: July 15, 2007, 10:26:06 AM »

Sheepishly, he takes his hand off the pommel of his weapon.  This is not the place for violence, he realises.  He catches up to Capher and keeps pace as they jog toward the clearing.  "I am not sure why I thought to look for Kenrill," he replies and looks sidelong at Tulpje.  "Though it started to feel strange that there were suddenly no brownies about, other than Tulpje, and it had been some time since I had seen Kenrill."

"I am surprised that they would choose to fight with Kenrill, though.  Of all of us, he seems the least likely to cause harm to the brownies."  He glances ahead through the trees and sees the small clearing where several brownies have surrounded the halfling.  "He is there!" he exclaims, pointing through the trees, and then rushes forward.

"Kenrill!  We are coming, friend!"
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Capher
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« Reply #48 on: July 16, 2007, 10:57:46 PM »

When Tal'as and Capher approach the small clearing Capher stops suddenly and looks around. Ken, with sword drawn was fighting off hundreds of enraged brownies; some attacking his body, his legs mostly and others using owls and other birds were dive bombing him and going for his eyes. If it were not serious it would have looked comical for to Capher it looked liked a bear had disturbed a bees nest and the bees were attacking the offender, but this was not comical, it had become deadly serious. All around the ground lay dozens of brownies hurt or even killed. Capher did not know what or why this happened, he just knew that it had to be stopped...now! "Tal'as see if you can get Ken to sheathe his sword while I try and stop the brownies"

Capher started shouting in Brownin. Some of the Brownies turned and looked his way, they shouted back at him, their voices sounding high pitched, just like a swarm of enraged bees would sound. Capher tried to speak, to reason with the Brownies, but they were in a frenzy and all they wanted was Ken dead or gone.

Capher saw and heard Ta'las try to tell Ken to sheathe his sword but the little fellow was too scared and ignored Ta'las's request. Tal'as tried to protect Ken but it was difficult getting to him without stepping on Brownies and some were even begining to attack Ta'las.

Capher tried shouting again in Brownin to cease the hostilities; some, the ones not close to Ken actually did, but then Capher saw something that made his blood his run cold. On a small knoll hundreds of archer Brownies had finally made their way to the scene and were setting up to shoot their tiny arrows. Normally, these arrows would be just a nuisance, but Capher knew that Brownies tipped their arrow heads with a drug, a narcotic, that they used to slow down, paraliize their prey. If it only took one or two of those arrows to paralize a robin, how much so would all these arrows paralize Ken and possibly hit Ta'las! Capher had to do something quick!

Capher began summoning his magical energies, but then stopped as he realized that he had no idea if he could control it. He had to think of another way, but what?  He did what he knew he could do safely, for all concerned; he strode over to the knoll where the archers were and turning his back to them blocking their arrows paths and hoping that they would not shoot at him. Then, he began to blow at the birds and owl riders; his breath becoming stronger and stronger until it was at a storm's strength; blowing the owls and birds off course and even some of the riders off their mounts. Brownies tried clinging to Ken, but were blown away, others also began to be blown away; it looked liked a dust storm as the brown colored Brownies were blown about in the wind. He slowed his breath so that most of the Brownies floated back to ground unharmed and then he stopped and again began shouting to cease all hostilities in Brownin. Hoping that they would listen, and that Ta'las could convince Ken to sheathe his sword.
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #49 on: July 17, 2007, 10:34:13 AM »

Judging by the number of times he felt a brownie weapon glance off his armour, Ta'las is thankful for the rahaz-estar suit that protects his arms and legs.  The Shendar hears Capher shouting and suddenly a strong wind picks up, raising dust and tossing the little brownies around the clearing, and temporarily halting their attack. 

"Kenrill!" he shouts, holding one hand over his face, and the other reaching for the halfling, even as he tries to shield his little friend.  "Please stay your weapon arm!"   Soon the wind dies down, and many of the brownies that had been closing in on Kenrill drop back, but it is obvious that their hosts are less than bemused with the halfling's presence.  Looking around at the brownies, he is uncertain whether they will resume attacking the halfling.

"My friend, what is happening?" he asks.  "Why have the brownies attacked?"
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Kenriil
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« Reply #50 on: July 19, 2007, 12:18:48 PM »

"Funny way to say it," Ken says bitterly, lowering his blade and looking up at Ta'las, now that the wind has died down. "Do you want me to put it away, or just hold it still? Because I think I nearly took out an owl's wing holding it still. They attacked me. Ask them why."

He turns slowly and begins to walk toward Capher, a bit reluctantly. "I guess this is it; it's been fun. I don't know why they came at me... guess they're not used to hearing someone talk. Not that... I really care much whether they like to hear me talk. Someone had to have told them something bad or something. Don't know who or why... then again, I don't know a lot of things. I haven't seen someone over-react like that since my brothers and cousins got involved in one of my grandfathers' disputes. They knocked and whallopped a bunch, but not quite like this. These... were in earnest. I feel sorry for them, really. Like the one who... I cut his fingers off... that's got to hurt. It must be terrible missing fingers. I mean, I lost the one, but that's just the one. He's got like three on one hand... I pity him. Still... I... wish I knew why. I guess I need to be lost somewhere else now..."
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #51 on: July 24, 2007, 11:44:07 AM »

Ta'las pauses a moment to consider Kenrill's reply, his eyes following the halfling as he walks toward Capher.  He understands his friend's bitterness, but is disheartened.  The Shendar looks toward the brownies, some of whom have come to the aid of the fallen brownie and begun to help with his wound.  Many have retreated, but he notices there is a group of them that remain and still appear unsettled.

"Tulpje, I do not speak your language.  Can you help me learn what has happened?"

The little brownie, who had held on to Ta'las during Capher's wind spell, takes a moment to digest Ta'las' request.  "You ask why my kin attack friend halfling?"

The Shendar nods.  "Yes, this does not seem like something brownies would normally do, but I also know that Kenrill would not attack brownies."

Tulpje purses her lips as she once again must think a moment about what Ta'las is saying.  "Think you halfling is good of heart, yes?"  She waits for the Shendar to nod his confirmation, and then proceeds to speak to the brownies in her own language.  There is a brief back-and-forth conversation between Tulpje and one of the other brownies, a large brownbark who still seems agitated, and finally Tulpje turns back to Ta'las. 

"My kin, Fleetfoot, say halfling is demon.  He want not demon in our vale."

Ta'las scratches his chin and looks over at Kenrill a moment.  Then back to Tulpje.  "Kenrill is not a demon - why would Fleetfoot say such a thing?"

When Tulpje relays this to Fleetfoot, the brownie sticks out his chest and waves his weapon in the air as he shouts a reply.  The brownies behind him start nodding and move a little closer.  Tulpje clutches Ta'las' shoulder and shrinks down a little, uncertain about her position her among her brethren, and whether it is such a good thing that she is seen as 'representing' the visitors' side of this argument.

Ta'las however, is unfazed.  "It is all right, Tulpje.  What is his answer?"

"He say that man-elf tell that demon is among your group.  That halfing is evil.  Cannot trust."

The Shendar steps toward the brownbark, his eyes intense.  "Which man-elf?  What does he look like?"  This causes the brownies to hesitate, and he notices a few of the archers draw arrows.  "Tulpje, please ask him."

Tulpje swallows, and looks from Ta’las to Fleetfoot.  She asks him to describe the man-elf who told them of Kenrill.  Fleetfoot pauses and shrugs, and offers only a terse response.  Tulpje turns to Ta’las and says, “Fleetfoot say he just elf.  Like –”  Then she is interrupted as Fleetfoot adds something else.  She furrows her brow.  “I no understand.  Fleetfoot say elf clothes shiny.  Shiny and many colors.”

"Thank you Tulpje."  Ta'las walks over to Capher and Kenrill.  "My friends, I think Garrek is behind this."
« Last Edit: July 28, 2007, 10:22:01 PM by Talas Anthavin » Logged

Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #52 on: August 21, 2007, 08:48:25 AM »

Ta'las

Ta'las looks around the clearing, and sees that the brownies are still upset, though they no longer look as though they will attack.  "I think it best if we return to the cabin, my friends."  He looks sadly at Kenrill and adds, "I am sorry for what has happened here.  I should not have questioned your actions." 

Then he looks sideways at Tulpje.  "Thank you, Tulpje."  With that, he turns toward the woods where he entered the clearing and makes his way to the small hut the group is occupying.  His mind seems troubled, as he frowns all the way back.

Capher

"Come little one," Capher says quietly.  "For safety's sake, we should rejoin the others.  Morcaanan and 'Teri will need to know what has happened here before we decide whether we can remain in the Vale.  However," he says as he looks around the clearing at the brownies who still remain, "I fear we may not be able to convince the brownies that their actions were misguided."

He speaks a few words in brownin to those remaining, telling them that the group will return to their lodging and that they will cause no further trouble.  Capher waits for a response, and finally the lead brownie crosses his arms and nods, and then motions for the others to follow him in a different direction.

"Shall we go now, Kenrill?"
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Tulpje Sweetshade
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« Reply #53 on: August 22, 2007, 09:37:23 PM »

After translating for Talas, Tulpje was silent. The elf that they talked about had been here before she'd returned - obviously, or she would have known about him, maybe even believed him. Somehow she doubted that last thought, though. She'd have had no reason to trust him, and why would you believe someone you didn't trust? Maybe it was her years outside that made her so distrustful. Still, all her friends and kin would be quicker to trust a halfling than an elf, usually. He must have been very persuasive, maybe even talked in Browniin - unlikely, she thought, there were not many people who knew about Brownies, as she'd had cause to notice before, so why (and how) learn a language of an unknown race?

On the other hand, maybe he had not talked to such a large group as had now attacked the halfling. Perhaps he'd just whispered in the ear of a select few, which would have been enough to let rumours fly - faster and harder than any speech in Tharian to mostly incomprehensive ears could have done. And though only a few Brownies spoke Tharian fluently, and only a few understood it, it was enough. Once the rumour took hold, it was repeated and blown up. It was the only thing she could think of to account for such a ferocious attack from her otherwise peaceful brethren. With it, though, they must have repeated who started the rumour, which was not normal. Or maybe he had not been very discreet in his whispers, so everyone knew where it came from. A sneaky man, but maybe not always very subtle.

She thought it strange that she should not have heard anything about it when she got back, but maybe it wasn't so surprising. She'd spent half the time back looking at the big people, more interested in observing them than in what others whispered behind their hands. Maybe she should have listened more carefully, maybe she could have warned him. Or maybe she would have believed what everyone seemed to believe, just because everyone seemed to believe it. Would she have answered 'Teri, up there on the roof of the hut, warned her about the danger for her companion? Would she have been up there, or would she have waited with the others, seated on Nash, attacking as soon as the 'demon' was found alone?

She didn't know, she wished she could answer that last question with 'no', but she honestly couldn't tell what she would have done. But now, she did know that if Talas believed him good, and no demon, than he was not a demon. She was sure that 'Teri would not think the halfling a demon either. And these two she trusted, despite her short acquiantance with them. There was something about the way they'd started talking to her, like she was equal to them and not some living, breathing doll, that made her trust them.
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Tulpje Sweetshade
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« Reply #54 on: August 23, 2007, 01:31:04 PM »

Once back at the little hut, Ta'las finds a place outside beneath the shade of a large oak tree to stretch out, since none of the others are here yet.  The Shendar leans back against the tree, careful not to crush Tulpje, who is still on his shoulder. 

"Tulpje, I apologise for what has happened here today.  The Vale is such a beautiful place," he says as scans the area around the hut, "and you have taken us in without question.  I fear the mischief this elf named Garrek has done cannot be undone."  He glances at Tulpje, and smiles wistfully.  "Kenrill did not deserve what happened to him, but I know too that your kin are good of heart."

He opens his mouth to continue, but decides against it.  Tension is building in his temples, and he really doesn't want to discuss it right now.  Instead, he says, "Tulpje, you seem different than the others.  You speak Tharian for one, but you also have a different way about you.  Have you spent time outside the Vale?"
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Kenriil
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« Reply #55 on: August 23, 2007, 02:06:24 PM »

There is a certain respect in Kenriil for the old Shapeshifter - one that causes his incessant babbling to come to an immediate halt whenever the dragon opens his mouth, whether to talk, yawn, or, perhaps, even to belch, Ken becomes still, silent, and filled with awe. Now, as Capher offers to return with him, Ken responds with a light smile and, "I'm grateful that you would think this way of me, but let us be a little more realistic, my friend. I have stumbled upon you without any true purpose, have inflicted my presence on you without recompense or explanation, and even, I might be so bold as to say, have thought that I might see this journey through. You believe in Seyella, and fate; so mayhap it was Seyella that sent me here to you. And, mayhap what Seyella had in mind has been accomplished; I cannot say. It is possible, as well, that I have put myself in a position that what Seyella had in mind for me can no longer be accomplished by me, but I am sure that you will get along well enough in your travels; that your task will end well, for it always does. Sir: I am going to leave this lovely Vale of life now, and I bid you farewell. Give the same to all our friends. Tell the little ones that I sorrow greatly for the wrong I've done them; but I know that I must leave, and I cannot return. You should all stay and wait for your friends to heal, and move on as one, for together, you are stronger than the sum of each of your strengths. Myself? I will be lost again, and wander aimlessly until I find some other adventure. Maybe I shall wander again to Milkengrad, and revisit the princess of the stars, or perhaps I shall wander for my first adventure south, to the Shendar and Bardavos. I have heard of a lot of amazing places I would like to see, and maybe I will and maybe I won't. It doesn't really matter, to be honest, as long as I can wander and be lost, then I can be happy, strange as it sounds. Nothing pleases me so much as a night on the trail and a cool breeze in the morning, and I think for a time I shall live that life alone. When I die, I will tell everyone around me the names of all of you, that I can remember, and I don't often forget, and see if some of you cannot be summoned to my grave to bid me onward. I wonder what it will be like afterward, what amazing things I will see and learn and know after the grave; what wonders await the senses, what adventure awaits the heart. It would be nice to see, wouldn't it? But so long and so good; may your meals ever be pleasant and your spine ever straight, and may the metal clips on your buckles not pinch and press bruises into your skin."

Ken's blessings marked a new era of silence for him, as he slowly turned his back to Capher, waving with his arm outstretched as he began to walk away, toward the gorge that led into the Vale, or, for him, out of the Vale.
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Tulpje Sweetshade
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« Reply #56 on: August 23, 2007, 07:50:34 PM »

Tulpje grinned a moment at his description of her. 'Tharian not goodly speaking, not so like scribblers, but yes, I out Vale long time. Or not long time, but seeming me long. I part of clan, ehm... Skydiver clan, first learning clan ways long time, then I accepting from clan. I young, ar...arrogant? Thinking no hurt for me, ever. I drinked, was happy for accepting so drinked bubbler things. Many drink. Officer say me stop, too much. I angry, so hit him. He un...uncon... he not awake, I thinking dead, so taked stuff and go, with Nash. Outside since, I missing Vale much. Meet... Met much people, Big People, some nice, some not. But missing Vale too many, so coming back. Officer not dead. Only five days here, then you come. Clan say, help you, is pun...puni... What is word? for doing wrong thing. After, again maybe accepting to clan, but liking out too.'

It was one of the longest speeches she'd made in Tharian in some time. She still had to think deeply to find the right words and order, more or less, but at least Ta'las seemed to be understanding her. She turns towards his face from her place on his shoulder and puts a small grey hand on his cheek. 'And you? Different too. You brown, not pink. You brownbark brownie." She giggled with a broad mischievous grin on her little grey face.
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #57 on: August 24, 2007, 01:55:40 PM »

"Me a Brownbark brownie!" Ta'las exclaims with a snort of laughter.  He returns the brownie's grin.  "I see you enjoy humour, little Tulpje, as do I.  Yes, my skin is darker than the others.  Well, except perhaps for Talia, who is also a Shendar.  We are from deep in the south of Santharia - in the desert called the Rahaz-Dath, where Injera's rays shine relentlessly on everything, including people.  It is a beautiful place, and I miss it too, just as you missed the Vale during your sojourn."  He looks away, as he recalls the day his mother-sister bid him to go north to find his Shendar-sister, Talia.

There is a brief lull in the conversation, before Ta'las adds, "The word you were trying to speak is punishment.  And I hope for your sake that you are able to regain your place in your clan.  I know that being away from home is difficult, but in my case I was not forced to leave home, as much as encouraged to leave to help Talia."

"It is interesting though, what happens on journeys such as this.  I had not expected to meet such friends as I have, and for that, I think it is I who has benefitted." He stops a moment to consider each of his travelling companions, and his relation to each.  Capher, a trusted friend and mentor.  Talia, his Shendar-sister, and a voice of reason.  Morcaanan, a formidable and stalwart warrior.  'Teri, calm and compassionate .  Kenriil, a neverending burst of energy and humour.  And Terra, strong, determined and beautiful.  The wistful expression returns again as he dwells on Lady Terra, and wonders how she is.  He shakes himself from his reverie, when he realises he is thinking about her in her white dress again.

He looks back at Tulpje.  "So when you say your punishment is to help us, do you think you are meant to keep us company here in the Vale, or to come with us when Talia and Lady Terra are finished healing?"

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« Reply #58 on: August 29, 2007, 01:59:11 AM »

Morcaanan and 'Teri had not heard much of the conflict in the Vale - for the moment, the world did not contain other people.

Both were quiet, sitting on the edge of the glade. 'Teri was curled up against Morcaanan, head on his chest with one of his arms draped around her shoulders, her eyes closed in an apparent doze.
Morcaanan was obviously awake, the thumb of one hand polishing the pommel of his sword, his other hand lightly tangled in 'Teri's hair.

The Korweynite felt strangely exhausted after his confrontation with her, as if he had fought some hard battle. Maybe it was a battle, after a fashion - he had rarely brought himself to forgive someone before.
He realized that he was now bound to this quest, along with all the others in the group. He could not conceive 'Teri abandoning it, not with her own kin so deeply involved.

He had resigned himself to the idea that perhaps he had no real purpose to be here, in so far as this quest was concerned: he was here for himself, and that was enough.

With this thought he glanced at 'Teri, who opened her eyes and smiled back at him. She wordlessly reached an arm around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss, then once more closed her eyes and leaned against him.

Yes, this would be enough for him.
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« Reply #59 on: August 30, 2007, 01:46:35 PM »

'Teri is happy, content to sit beside Morcaanan and hold him, and for a moment at least, there are no problems. There is no hunting, haunting Garrek, no terrible demon chasing them, no... imminent death through some curious psychological malady for anyone; only her, Morcaanan, and forever. Aueniteri is happy most of all knowing that not only now, but when all those evils return, Morcaanan will still be there, and the thought is easy to convince herself of. Someone she will always be able to reach to for support, whether for love or war.

So full is her heart with the moment, that tears begin to fill in her eyes, and she looks away at first, trying to hide them and the momentary shame they bring. She should not be crying, she tells herself - and yet, maybe it is not wrong. With a light smile, she looks up to him, thumbs a cheek as a lone tear escapes down it, and draws herself close to him again. "I am happy," she reassures him.

The reprieve, however, is broken by a stunningly singular event. Brownies. Many of them wounded, and few of them caring to hide themselves. Torrents of the little people, apparently of the younger, more careless caste, pour from the foothills in the direction of the gorge, the entrance to the Vale.
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