Atoli’s brow furrowed when she was re-shackled but allowed it, anxious to be away from the cell. Once she was in the crisp open air, she took in a deep breath of relief; seeing the open sky took the weight of dread that she had while being imprisoned. But her relief faltered when the noble continued walking, not bothering to untether her. “Um… where are we going?”
When he didn’t speak the feathers on her hackles began to rise, her neck and shoulder feathers fluffing considerably. “This is NOT what I agreed to, horse face.” she muttered, fighting to keep her cool. The little harpy unwillingly followed Merthyr; the chain was taught and her arm out as she was pulled forward by the larger male. During the trek to the tavern she glared down at the chain that linked the two as if the stare would melt the metal.
With a creak from the door they entered the tavern, and Merthyr explained his plan. Atoli seemed torn between deciding whether or not to go into a frenzy of clawing and yelling, but the threat of being thrown back into the cell was enough to keep her from it. Instead she worked on pushing down the panic that began to well up in her chest. Her green fiery eyes darted around the room nervously, passing over those that sat at the diner, before looking back up to Merthyr’s face.
Her lip curled in a snarl when he started to speak about her status, showing her sharp teeth to the man. “You don’t know me. Don’t talk about me like you do…” She paused then, unsure what to do about the further offer of food and payment. And stood there bristling and confused on what she should do, not wanting to move further into the tavern to meet this ‘knight’.
When he didn’t speak the feathers on her hackles began to rise, her neck and shoulder feathers fluffing considerably. “This is NOT what I agreed to, horse face.” she muttered, fighting to keep her cool. The little harpy unwillingly followed Merthyr; the chain was taught and her arm out as she was pulled forward by the larger male. During the trek to the tavern she glared down at the chain that linked the two as if the stare would melt the metal.
With a creak from the door they entered the tavern, and Merthyr explained his plan. Atoli seemed torn between deciding whether or not to go into a frenzy of clawing and yelling, but the threat of being thrown back into the cell was enough to keep her from it. Instead she worked on pushing down the panic that began to well up in her chest. Her green fiery eyes darted around the room nervously, passing over those that sat at the diner, before looking back up to Merthyr’s face.
Her lip curled in a snarl when he started to speak about her status, showing her sharp teeth to the man. “You don’t know me. Don’t talk about me like you do…” She paused then, unsure what to do about the further offer of food and payment. And stood there bristling and confused on what she should do, not wanting to move further into the tavern to meet this ‘knight’.
Merthyr smiled warmly
"Actually, that's exactly what we agreed upon, my items back in return for getting you out of that cell. You offered the trade and set the terms yourself with your choice of words, if you were expecting freedom instead you should have been clearer in your proposal and agreements.
If it's any consolation, you're out of the dark cell, you were granted audience with the king, your offered terms were accepted, your basic needs are catered for and you get a personal knight for company and protection, a knight who happens to enjoy the outdoors much more than most. May I present to you, lady Tara Faloan, valiant knight of the realm" introduced Merthyr waving the hand, going quiet to let them get acquainted
Taff paused stiff at hearing the footsteps outside and broke the healing spell and leaned up on the bed, weary and somewhat scared, nudging Grum to wake him up and alert him of the danger, too worried to be able to concentrate and continue with the healing spell.
"Chieftain! Wake up! There's footsteps outside... You gotta do something!" Urged Taff shaking the shoulder firmly to wake up Grum
Lwyncelyne came over to the tavern.
"Honestly lord Pentre, the patients are more scurry than the prisoners, they'll never recover properly if they don't rest. I bet they're merry making at the tavern as if they were in their peak health" protested and sighed lady Lwyncelyne, the elven healer.
Lord knight Pentre listened to her reasonable complaint patiently, fully understanding her frustration
"Indeed, I may have to place them under arrest to make them rest" nodded lord knight Pentre
"Wounded warriors are more hampering than helping" agreed the man coming to the tavern with the healer
"Actually, that's exactly what we agreed upon, my items back in return for getting you out of that cell. You offered the trade and set the terms yourself with your choice of words, if you were expecting freedom instead you should have been clearer in your proposal and agreements.
If it's any consolation, you're out of the dark cell, you were granted audience with the king, your offered terms were accepted, your basic needs are catered for and you get a personal knight for company and protection, a knight who happens to enjoy the outdoors much more than most. May I present to you, lady Tara Faloan, valiant knight of the realm" introduced Merthyr waving the hand, going quiet to let them get acquainted
Taff paused stiff at hearing the footsteps outside and broke the healing spell and leaned up on the bed, weary and somewhat scared, nudging Grum to wake him up and alert him of the danger, too worried to be able to concentrate and continue with the healing spell.
"Chieftain! Wake up! There's footsteps outside... You gotta do something!" Urged Taff shaking the shoulder firmly to wake up Grum
Lwyncelyne came over to the tavern.
"Honestly lord Pentre, the patients are more scurry than the prisoners, they'll never recover properly if they don't rest. I bet they're merry making at the tavern as if they were in their peak health" protested and sighed lady Lwyncelyne, the elven healer.
Lord knight Pentre listened to her reasonable complaint patiently, fully understanding her frustration
"Indeed, I may have to place them under arrest to make them rest" nodded lord knight Pentre
"Wounded warriors are more hampering than helping" agreed the man coming to the tavern with the healer
Tara frowned when Hilda mentioned the 'thing'. Since the day of that battle, it had been haunting her in the waking world as well as her (scarce) dreams. The banishment worked but the destruction it caused begged the question; how could someone like them, someone without magic to utilize hope to stand against monsters like that? For all that she did to help Merthyr with Grum, there was nothing the warrior was capable of doing in the face of it. Helplessness did not suit her. There had to be an answer somewhere.
Otso gave Hilda a warm smile, his cheeks reddened as she complimented the pottage. "Why, I'll send your compliments to the chef!" It meant something more personal to the man, considering the 'chef' was most likely one of his daughters. Both he and Faolan were distracted when they heard muffled voices approach from the other side of the front door.
As Merthyr and Atoli entered the tavern, closed the distance with Tara and discussed their 'deal', the knight couldn't help but feel a bit flustered. The king made it all sound set in stone, yet neither she nor the harpy desired this outcome. For the length of the conversation she held her tongue, turning her eyes on poor Atoli to try and get an idea of what she was dealing with. And then she was introduced.
"Pleased to meet you," she offered habitually. In truth she was not so pleased but didn't intend to make matters more agitated than they already were. Faolan would have continued were it not for the shouting entrance of Lwyncelyne and Pentre. She expected the former but was surprised to see the lord there, especially so early. She turned back toward Merthyr and said, "I won't be able to help your friend here if this healer has her way." She'd hoped that the king might speak on her behalf or find someone else to leave the harpy with. Tara had nothing against her, but certainly did not start traveling to foster someone that didn't need it.
_
As Taff struggled to wake the unconscious chieftain, his voice echoed through his own ears. The words came again as a thought, belonging to a voice much deeper and rougher than even Grum's. "Wake up! Wake up!" The minotaur's memory chimed with an uncomfortable air, stuck somewhere between a feeling of long-dead childhood naivete, warmth and the bitter anguish of a mistake. Though the manservant had little context for this the thought made the possessed minotaur's bovine eyes water, regardless of how Taff felt. The link between their minds shivered and weakened, banishing the memory for a time while Grum started to stir.
The minotaur in the servant's body sputtered and shook, wrapping his arms around himself in discomfort unfamiliar to him. Sure, he'd been cold before, but it was not so bad a few moments ago as this! His eyes fluttered open and his brow furrowed, befuddled by what was transpiring. He took an instant to register that his own face peered down at him, wrought with fear. The chieftain yelped and crawled back somewhat, even more panicked to hear his own voice was that of the 'filth' he'd been escorting. "What!? What is this?! What have you--?" His eyes met with those of the stranger beyond the door.
The young woman pulled on the bowstring as the two started acting alarmed, hesitating just as she was going to nock an arrow to observe the "man's" confusion. His gaze had questions of its own, causing her cheeks and nose already flush with cold to turn entirely red.
She grabbed the handle of the door and slammed it shut, scrambling to pull something out front in the way of the door before running around the house. The bear vocalized as she reached the hovel's back but the sounds of conflict never arose. Just the occasional, pained sounds of the beast.
Otso gave Hilda a warm smile, his cheeks reddened as she complimented the pottage. "Why, I'll send your compliments to the chef!" It meant something more personal to the man, considering the 'chef' was most likely one of his daughters. Both he and Faolan were distracted when they heard muffled voices approach from the other side of the front door.
As Merthyr and Atoli entered the tavern, closed the distance with Tara and discussed their 'deal', the knight couldn't help but feel a bit flustered. The king made it all sound set in stone, yet neither she nor the harpy desired this outcome. For the length of the conversation she held her tongue, turning her eyes on poor Atoli to try and get an idea of what she was dealing with. And then she was introduced.
"Pleased to meet you," she offered habitually. In truth she was not so pleased but didn't intend to make matters more agitated than they already were. Faolan would have continued were it not for the shouting entrance of Lwyncelyne and Pentre. She expected the former but was surprised to see the lord there, especially so early. She turned back toward Merthyr and said, "I won't be able to help your friend here if this healer has her way." She'd hoped that the king might speak on her behalf or find someone else to leave the harpy with. Tara had nothing against her, but certainly did not start traveling to foster someone that didn't need it.
_
As Taff struggled to wake the unconscious chieftain, his voice echoed through his own ears. The words came again as a thought, belonging to a voice much deeper and rougher than even Grum's. "Wake up! Wake up!" The minotaur's memory chimed with an uncomfortable air, stuck somewhere between a feeling of long-dead childhood naivete, warmth and the bitter anguish of a mistake. Though the manservant had little context for this the thought made the possessed minotaur's bovine eyes water, regardless of how Taff felt. The link between their minds shivered and weakened, banishing the memory for a time while Grum started to stir.
The minotaur in the servant's body sputtered and shook, wrapping his arms around himself in discomfort unfamiliar to him. Sure, he'd been cold before, but it was not so bad a few moments ago as this! His eyes fluttered open and his brow furrowed, befuddled by what was transpiring. He took an instant to register that his own face peered down at him, wrought with fear. The chieftain yelped and crawled back somewhat, even more panicked to hear his own voice was that of the 'filth' he'd been escorting. "What!? What is this?! What have you--?" His eyes met with those of the stranger beyond the door.
The young woman pulled on the bowstring as the two started acting alarmed, hesitating just as she was going to nock an arrow to observe the "man's" confusion. His gaze had questions of its own, causing her cheeks and nose already flush with cold to turn entirely red.
She grabbed the handle of the door and slammed it shut, scrambling to pull something out front in the way of the door before running around the house. The bear vocalized as she reached the hovel's back but the sounds of conflict never arose. Just the occasional, pained sounds of the beast.
(( 
Well hello everyone!))
Iskra was never the kind to help. After the battle and banishement that followed though, the Bandit King seemed to be...quietly assisting.
It was nothing public. And if asked, chances were she would deny the behavior and pin it on the Knights of the People. She eased up on her hunting in the region, to allow the populations of deer and other creatures time to recover; she spent her nights battling the beasts in the region to ease the troubles in Aftbide, and maybe more than once she had instructed men to leave behind freshly butchered or prepared venison, to save those who would have gone out the trouble.
The Lady Knight Katja had yet to recover; though Iskra had taken her, much to the displeasure of the woman’s Militia, who were really starting to feel like Iskra’s tendency to show up late to the most important things (like the rather short battle between Grum and Katja) was more on purpose than the Bandit King would admit. She held her at her hideout, and for all the trouble Katja had ever caused her, and all the times she said how she would kill the Knight the first chance she got, Iskra had kept her alive, working to bring her back to health. Something about it being ‘ill morals’ to kill a wounded soldier who fought so bravely.
Considering Iskra’s....questionable morals, this excuse was debatable.
Throughout all this, she did her best to avoid mentioning that Katja was with her though; the Knight, in the small times she was awake, blamed herself for the release of the demonic entity, and truthfully Iskra blamed her as well. She just wasn’t entirely sure if the rest of Aftbide felt the same. Not to mention her own identity as a bandit causing enough trouble when the snow blocked her path out of the region, forcing the pale woman to shuffle through the mountains on horseback, down to Aftbide. Truthfully, whiskey wasn’t all that important...but perhaps it was the alcoholic in her that said it was urgent she bought it. She approached the tavern quietly, her hood up and a heavy scarf pulled up to cover her mouth and nose, and waited a moment after Atoli and Merthyr had entered before entering herself. The heavy black cloak was unlike her normal attire, though her pale skin and hair were enough of a giveaway for anyone who had seen her at the battle, or knew of her ruling of the Bandit Clan; rumors always flew, she knew that, and more than ever these days did word travel quickly and change without hesitation.
The woman tried to avoid shedding snow as she crossed the tavern, her slate blue eyes staring at the ground as she approached the bar, “Oi, Tavernkeep. You have any whiskey for sale here?” She kept her voice low and gruff; the same as ever, Iskra would keep up that wall In her personality, even when attempting to hide her identity. Foolish pride was what most called it, though she preferred to label it as “Honor”, as if she knew what the word really meant.
Well hello everyone!)) Iskra was never the kind to help. After the battle and banishement that followed though, the Bandit King seemed to be...quietly assisting.
It was nothing public. And if asked, chances were she would deny the behavior and pin it on the Knights of the People. She eased up on her hunting in the region, to allow the populations of deer and other creatures time to recover; she spent her nights battling the beasts in the region to ease the troubles in Aftbide, and maybe more than once she had instructed men to leave behind freshly butchered or prepared venison, to save those who would have gone out the trouble.
The Lady Knight Katja had yet to recover; though Iskra had taken her, much to the displeasure of the woman’s Militia, who were really starting to feel like Iskra’s tendency to show up late to the most important things (like the rather short battle between Grum and Katja) was more on purpose than the Bandit King would admit. She held her at her hideout, and for all the trouble Katja had ever caused her, and all the times she said how she would kill the Knight the first chance she got, Iskra had kept her alive, working to bring her back to health. Something about it being ‘ill morals’ to kill a wounded soldier who fought so bravely.
Considering Iskra’s....questionable morals, this excuse was debatable.
Throughout all this, she did her best to avoid mentioning that Katja was with her though; the Knight, in the small times she was awake, blamed herself for the release of the demonic entity, and truthfully Iskra blamed her as well. She just wasn’t entirely sure if the rest of Aftbide felt the same. Not to mention her own identity as a bandit causing enough trouble when the snow blocked her path out of the region, forcing the pale woman to shuffle through the mountains on horseback, down to Aftbide. Truthfully, whiskey wasn’t all that important...but perhaps it was the alcoholic in her that said it was urgent she bought it. She approached the tavern quietly, her hood up and a heavy scarf pulled up to cover her mouth and nose, and waited a moment after Atoli and Merthyr had entered before entering herself. The heavy black cloak was unlike her normal attire, though her pale skin and hair were enough of a giveaway for anyone who had seen her at the battle, or knew of her ruling of the Bandit Clan; rumors always flew, she knew that, and more than ever these days did word travel quickly and change without hesitation.
The woman tried to avoid shedding snow as she crossed the tavern, her slate blue eyes staring at the ground as she approached the bar, “Oi, Tavernkeep. You have any whiskey for sale here?” She kept her voice low and gruff; the same as ever, Iskra would keep up that wall In her personality, even when attempting to hide her identity. Foolish pride was what most called it, though she preferred to label it as “Honor”, as if she knew what the word really meant.
Asgoth sensed the soul before it burst into the room. He knew that it would be that of a strong flavor, but his desire to remain hidden among mortals replaced his lust for souls. "Thank you." he said to the waitress, now working on the pottage he had been given. He had seen mortals come and go, some were blackened by foolish decisions, others enlightened by heroic deeds and good works in mortality. He remembered when he, too, was trapped in flesh, but he was freed by his master, released from death and pain to serve as the reaper of souls. His blade wept in hunger, only heard by those of Asgoth's kind. He spoke with his siblings, some near the village, others far from it in distant lands. Those that were near kept watch, devouring those that left in foolishness, passing others. They remained, for he that sat in the tavern and their master bid it to be so. They hid in trees and snow, but Asgoth the eldest hid as a mortal.
Atoli turned a little to watch as more people poured into the tavern. Two chatterboxes which she guessed were part of the king’s group, and a separate one that wore a hood and reeked of horse and cold. Another bandit? The harpy eyed them as they went by before turning her attention back to Tara.
Atoli simply stared back at the other, not bothering to offer the same greeting. Instead she straightened her back as she sized up the other; though the height difference did little to help.
A perplexed expression appeared on her bruised face as she asked bluntly, but with no particular malice, “You’re a woman knight? Huh… it was hard to tell with how tall you are. Can’t say that face helps much either.”
Her feathers began to flatten back to their normal state, and despite herself her stomach growled painfully; the delicious smell in the room was hard to ignore.
She looked back to Merthyr, “So if I cooperate, I’ll get food, payment, and freedom? Deal. I’ll cooperate. No need to chain me this person.” She motioned to Tara. “If you want me to be baby-sat I won’t mind having a knight at my disposal though.”
Atoli shifted from foot to foot, anxious of something more but not quite knowing what. Perhaps it was this village in general... after the battle with that ‘thing’ that she had seen from a distance a sense of disturbing presence laid under its surface.
Atoli simply stared back at the other, not bothering to offer the same greeting. Instead she straightened her back as she sized up the other; though the height difference did little to help.
A perplexed expression appeared on her bruised face as she asked bluntly, but with no particular malice, “You’re a woman knight? Huh… it was hard to tell with how tall you are. Can’t say that face helps much either.”
Her feathers began to flatten back to their normal state, and despite herself her stomach growled painfully; the delicious smell in the room was hard to ignore.
She looked back to Merthyr, “So if I cooperate, I’ll get food, payment, and freedom? Deal. I’ll cooperate. No need to chain me this person.” She motioned to Tara. “If you want me to be baby-sat I won’t mind having a knight at my disposal though.”
Atoli shifted from foot to foot, anxious of something more but not quite knowing what. Perhaps it was this village in general... after the battle with that ‘thing’ that she had seen from a distance a sense of disturbing presence laid under its surface.
Tom and Zafira's new combined body had been nowhere near the town when the battle started, having recently transformed, anything strenuous was beyond their capabilities. Instead, the two had clumsily stumbled about for a while, tripping and stumbling like a toddler. For anyone who was watching, it would be quite a sight to behold: A human with glowing veins and flaming purple hair staggering about like someone who'd never walked before and firing random spells which flashed like expensive fireworks.
It would take them as long as it did to master their new body to the point where they could walk where they would grow bored of the camp. Seeing as how most of the people inside it had pushed off to start the battle for Aftbide. Out of the high sense of survivability, the being stayed as far away from the battle as it could without leaving the area. Their curiosity to find out what was going on becoming the only thing binding them to the area.
Consequentially then they missed the epic battle, the two souls cowering away in the mountains, having already nearly experienced death and not wishing to do so again. However, over time the pair grew more venturous and slowly, but stealthily began to gather a few corpses, bringing them back to reanimate and play with them. Giving them a new purpose in serving them, only a few at first, nothing to garner suspicion but growing slowly in number all the time. Yet it wasn't long before these mindless creatures began to bore the combined soul and they decided to sneak into the town, leaving the mindless automatons to guard the camp.
(I'm writing this ambiguously so that Kerik can have followed the two or not)
It would take them as long as it did to master their new body to the point where they could walk where they would grow bored of the camp. Seeing as how most of the people inside it had pushed off to start the battle for Aftbide. Out of the high sense of survivability, the being stayed as far away from the battle as it could without leaving the area. Their curiosity to find out what was going on becoming the only thing binding them to the area.
Consequentially then they missed the epic battle, the two souls cowering away in the mountains, having already nearly experienced death and not wishing to do so again. However, over time the pair grew more venturous and slowly, but stealthily began to gather a few corpses, bringing them back to reanimate and play with them. Giving them a new purpose in serving them, only a few at first, nothing to garner suspicion but growing slowly in number all the time. Yet it wasn't long before these mindless creatures began to bore the combined soul and they decided to sneak into the town, leaving the mindless automatons to guard the camp.
(I'm writing this ambiguously so that Kerik can have followed the two or not)
Hilda's thoughts had been much like Tara's regarding the 'Thing'. If such a horrible thing could be brought into this world, then surely there was something that would counter it. But that was for later. Currently Hilda knew she was beyond lucky. Despite losing her sword, her arm and the other injuries she had received, Hilda was alive. Besides her missing arm, she could go on to live a peaceful life one day. The same could not be said for the others who still laid in pain inside the infirmary.
Hilda was about to respond to the tavern owner when the King made his entrance along with....a harpy in tow? It was certainly not who she had expected to come through the doorway. Listening to the Kings 'deal' with Tara, she began to ask a question when the Healer entered followed by the Lord Knight. The previous threat of being tied to her cot now seemed to be a very real possibility.
Without much of a second thought Hilda blurts out to both the King and Tara as she gets up from her seat "I-I wish assist Knight Faloan with the task....M'lord." For the briefest of moments her otherwise proper accent failed, addressing the king more like a commoner would. Such a slip made it extremely clear she would rather be involved in whatever strange sounding dealings the king had then to face Lwyncelyne's wrath.
Hilda was about to respond to the tavern owner when the King made his entrance along with....a harpy in tow? It was certainly not who she had expected to come through the doorway. Listening to the Kings 'deal' with Tara, she began to ask a question when the Healer entered followed by the Lord Knight. The previous threat of being tied to her cot now seemed to be a very real possibility.
Without much of a second thought Hilda blurts out to both the King and Tara as she gets up from her seat "I-I wish assist Knight Faloan with the task....M'lord." For the briefest of moments her otherwise proper accent failed, addressing the king more like a commoner would. Such a slip made it extremely clear she would rather be involved in whatever strange sounding dealings the king had then to face Lwyncelyne's wrath.
"Your majesty, I must protest, if the wounded patients take no rest their wounds will be worse, perhaps infected, fever then sets in and it is harder to heal" noted Lwyncelyne looking at them all meaningfully
Merthyr nodded in understanding, listening to Lwyncelyne.
"Lady Lwyncelyne, I fully understand your concern, every healer cares for their patients greatly and I would expect no less. Whilst they remain in the village, I will have them report to the healing house morning or night, once a day, but their services are needed to help find Taff. If they need to leave then I would have you give them remedies for the journey, they will come to collect them before departure.
Atoli, I accept your offer of services, in return for food, payment and freedom. You are to become knight Faloan's charge, a squire of sorts, she will keep you safe and watched and give you chores, you might make a good scout but it's up to her what tasks are given to you.
More importantly as soon as you feel able to, I would have you report to her in detail all you know about Grum's possible hideouts and whereabouts, known locations and the like." Explained Merthyr turning his gaze from Atoli to Tara
"Knight Faloan I would have you gather a search party of your choosing, at your command, and venture out a little... try to find a trail, clues, anything you can find on Taff's fate and lady Katja of the Knights of the People. I long for news from either of them and all scouts so far return empty handed" explained Merthyr with concern in his voice looking from Tara to Hilda
"Seems to me you have a volunteer already, if you would have her" noted Merthyr briefly nodding at Hilda
His eyes trailed over the new arrival, the voice too familiar to disregard it and made his way to talk to Iskra hoping this newcomer might have news on Katja or Taff or both
"Greetings..." saluted Merthyr
"Lady Lwyncelyne, I fully understand your concern, every healer cares for their patients greatly and I would expect no less. Whilst they remain in the village, I will have them report to the healing house morning or night, once a day, but their services are needed to help find Taff. If they need to leave then I would have you give them remedies for the journey, they will come to collect them before departure.
Atoli, I accept your offer of services, in return for food, payment and freedom. You are to become knight Faloan's charge, a squire of sorts, she will keep you safe and watched and give you chores, you might make a good scout but it's up to her what tasks are given to you.
More importantly as soon as you feel able to, I would have you report to her in detail all you know about Grum's possible hideouts and whereabouts, known locations and the like." Explained Merthyr turning his gaze from Atoli to Tara
"Knight Faloan I would have you gather a search party of your choosing, at your command, and venture out a little... try to find a trail, clues, anything you can find on Taff's fate and lady Katja of the Knights of the People. I long for news from either of them and all scouts so far return empty handed" explained Merthyr with concern in his voice looking from Tara to Hilda
"Seems to me you have a volunteer already, if you would have her" noted Merthyr briefly nodding at Hilda
His eyes trailed over the new arrival, the voice too familiar to disregard it and made his way to talk to Iskra hoping this newcomer might have news on Katja or Taff or both
"Greetings..." saluted Merthyr
Atoli's direct comments on the warrior's appearance caught the latter's eye. Tara squinted at her a few seconds post-judgement and then smiled despite herself, glancing away and chuckling. "I get that a lot."
Faolan had turned in her seat to face Merthyr, Atoli and Lwyncelyne. It enabled her to lean sidelong against the counter, so she did as the healer and king conversed. Though she found Lwyn's approach to containing her somewhat oppressive she did still appreciate what the woman did. For that moment though the knight held her tongue.
Otso kept his attention on the patrons that had already paid him, intentionally keeping himself from unnecessary involvement in the king's personal matters. When Sokol entered the old man sported the same smile he gave the other potential customers and beckoned in welcome. He answered her question without skipping a beat; "No whiskey I'm afraid, but we do have a few stores of dark ale left over. Not too lightweight, is it?"
As Atoli was designated as her squire Tara couldn't help but smirk. It wasn't hard to imagine how difficult it would be at times to give the harpy commands. Just a minute before she had even claimed it would be the warrior at the harpy's disposal, not the other way around.
But she had no time to muse about the harpy's lack of respect; the king had a task for her. She nodded as he spoke, expression serious as her objective was made clear. "It will be done." Though this knight did not technically swear fealty to Merthyr she still found his cause to be worthwhile; that, and the kidnapping of Taff felt like a failure on her part. He was there when she fought with the chieftain, after all. The fault was hers.
Hilda's opt-in was not unheard by Tara, nor was Gawain's nod toward her. She studied the other woman briefly. Her newfound disability was a concern but Faolan remembered how she fought, and without a larger crew she'd regret turning away her assistance, no matter how desperate, away. "Seems to me we could use the extra help." The warrior confirmed.
It was then that she finally noticed the new arrival. Iskra was not a complete stranger to Tara; prior to her arrival at Aftbide another town further north warned her of the bandits in the mountain.
_
In hindsight, Kerik was glad to be away from Aftbide when the commotion broke out. After his capture and torture the bandit thought it'd be nigh impossible to keep up. It was certainly a feat, but it was a walk in the park compared to experiencing the devastation the battle caused. Since then he'd cut his beard, shaved his head and exchanged outfits with one of his fallen comrades to elude a second capture while Tom and Zafira hid away. Like them he chose to bide his time, hunting and foraging to keep himself fed.
It was their experimentation that chilled him. Neither of them seemed to realize anything was wrong when the duo's cadavers moved, but it kept the man awake each night. He used every excuse to be away from their hideaways when the dead walked and subsequently exhausted himself. No surprise, then, that when Tom and Zafira ventured into town that he could practically feel the bags under his eyes.
Kerik held his satchel close; from the ruins of his clan's hideout he managed to salvage a bow, short sword and extra pair of layered clothing. He kept a scarf wrapped over his lower face, hoping none of the soldiers would recognize him as he shuffled behind the disguised lich. He wasn't particularly sure what the two had in mind coming here but he saw an opportunity to steal something better than overcooked rabbit from the camps crowding the village.
Faolan had turned in her seat to face Merthyr, Atoli and Lwyncelyne. It enabled her to lean sidelong against the counter, so she did as the healer and king conversed. Though she found Lwyn's approach to containing her somewhat oppressive she did still appreciate what the woman did. For that moment though the knight held her tongue.
Otso kept his attention on the patrons that had already paid him, intentionally keeping himself from unnecessary involvement in the king's personal matters. When Sokol entered the old man sported the same smile he gave the other potential customers and beckoned in welcome. He answered her question without skipping a beat; "No whiskey I'm afraid, but we do have a few stores of dark ale left over. Not too lightweight, is it?"
As Atoli was designated as her squire Tara couldn't help but smirk. It wasn't hard to imagine how difficult it would be at times to give the harpy commands. Just a minute before she had even claimed it would be the warrior at the harpy's disposal, not the other way around.
But she had no time to muse about the harpy's lack of respect; the king had a task for her. She nodded as he spoke, expression serious as her objective was made clear. "It will be done." Though this knight did not technically swear fealty to Merthyr she still found his cause to be worthwhile; that, and the kidnapping of Taff felt like a failure on her part. He was there when she fought with the chieftain, after all. The fault was hers.
Hilda's opt-in was not unheard by Tara, nor was Gawain's nod toward her. She studied the other woman briefly. Her newfound disability was a concern but Faolan remembered how she fought, and without a larger crew she'd regret turning away her assistance, no matter how desperate, away. "Seems to me we could use the extra help." The warrior confirmed.
It was then that she finally noticed the new arrival. Iskra was not a complete stranger to Tara; prior to her arrival at Aftbide another town further north warned her of the bandits in the mountain.
_
In hindsight, Kerik was glad to be away from Aftbide when the commotion broke out. After his capture and torture the bandit thought it'd be nigh impossible to keep up. It was certainly a feat, but it was a walk in the park compared to experiencing the devastation the battle caused. Since then he'd cut his beard, shaved his head and exchanged outfits with one of his fallen comrades to elude a second capture while Tom and Zafira hid away. Like them he chose to bide his time, hunting and foraging to keep himself fed.
It was their experimentation that chilled him. Neither of them seemed to realize anything was wrong when the duo's cadavers moved, but it kept the man awake each night. He used every excuse to be away from their hideaways when the dead walked and subsequently exhausted himself. No surprise, then, that when Tom and Zafira ventured into town that he could practically feel the bags under his eyes.
Kerik held his satchel close; from the ruins of his clan's hideout he managed to salvage a bow, short sword and extra pair of layered clothing. He kept a scarf wrapped over his lower face, hoping none of the soldiers would recognize him as he shuffled behind the disguised lich. He wasn't particularly sure what the two had in mind coming here but he saw an opportunity to steal something better than overcooked rabbit from the camps crowding the village.
The noise of the bustling town plagued Ave's ears as walked from the bookshop. She perferred the peacefulness of her home on the edge of town but she felt like having a drink that night. "I know what your thinking, Ave," a voice called from a being trailing behind her. Ave felt something climb upon her back and turned to see her friend Kich. Kich was a spider monkey-like creature with three long fingers and thumbs, the tail of a lion, and long pointed ears. Kich spoke again in a raspy voice, "You know what happened last time you were in a bar. Let's just go home." Ave rolled her eyes,
"You are absolutely no fun. I'll behave myself this time and you know I didn't start that fight." Ave walked into the bar, expecting it to be empty but since it was a bar, it was the opposite.
"You are absolutely no fun. I'll behave myself this time and you know I didn't start that fight." Ave walked into the bar, expecting it to be empty but since it was a bar, it was the opposite.
“Dark ale is fine.” She responded, though her voice was gruff her lips had curled into the ghost of a smile. That is, until Merthyr approached her. Iskra had no intentions of putting her identity out there. And certainly, if they pieced together that she had Katja, this situation would turn troublesome for her; after all, keeping the woman who’s army helped defend this city...and holding her against her will at that? It was a dangerous situation to be in. So the Bandit King turned her head down towards the ground, walking to the bar, “I want no trouble, stranger. Just came for a drink, then I shall be on my way.”
Her eyes flicked up to Tara’s, narrowing a bit; she recognized her, the woman who had fought alongside Katja but...hopefully the woman did not recognize her. But with this unmarked cloak, and these new clothes, unless the group saw her face and hair completely, there was little possibility of them recognizing her— save for the king, who appeared to know her voice.
He was going to be trouble.
Then again, there was little she could do against him. After all, nearly everyone here would side with the man if she went to attack, and she had no intentions of subjecting herself to the noose so early. That part of her mind, soaked with her criminal history, said to get out of the tavern, as fast as she could, this situation could turn against her if she stayed longer. But the human part of her, that craved warmth and comfort, would overrule, and she remained at the bar, pulling out a rather plump satchel of gold coins and passing them to Otso once she was given the ale, “Keep the extra. I have no need for it.” Of course it was strange she kept her hood up, her head angled to the bar, but with all these people...not to mention the strange man who gave off a rather creepy energy, in her opinion... it was best to hide.
Her eyes flicked up to Tara’s, narrowing a bit; she recognized her, the woman who had fought alongside Katja but...hopefully the woman did not recognize her. But with this unmarked cloak, and these new clothes, unless the group saw her face and hair completely, there was little possibility of them recognizing her— save for the king, who appeared to know her voice.
He was going to be trouble.
Then again, there was little she could do against him. After all, nearly everyone here would side with the man if she went to attack, and she had no intentions of subjecting herself to the noose so early. That part of her mind, soaked with her criminal history, said to get out of the tavern, as fast as she could, this situation could turn against her if she stayed longer. But the human part of her, that craved warmth and comfort, would overrule, and she remained at the bar, pulling out a rather plump satchel of gold coins and passing them to Otso once she was given the ale, “Keep the extra. I have no need for it.” Of course it was strange she kept her hood up, her head angled to the bar, but with all these people...not to mention the strange man who gave off a rather creepy energy, in her opinion... it was best to hide.
Unfortunately for Kerik's peace of mind two issues with the plan were immediately visible. The first was that the young hybrids disguise was awful, in fact anyone looking at it who had seen the being post transformation would be hard pressed to call it a disguise. Then again it would be hard to create one that covered every unusual feature about the being.
The "disguise" consisted of the same hat they'd worn pre-transformation, pulled down hard over their lilac hair. Failing to hide both the fringe and the strands which flowed behind them in a ponytail. The eyes however, stood out like glittering jewels in a rock wall. The twin emerald lights glowing with a friendly warmth. The rest of the clothing apart from a new set of shoes, was the same: the same slightly tattered trousers and sheets of linen which wrapped around the upper torso.
The second was that the being stayed very close as much as possible to the older man, taking an almost absurd prize in his presence. For the being, regardless of the reason Kerik was following them, it felt oddly pleasing to have a living follower, particularly one they had rescued. Not that they'd admit that of course, instead translating their pleasure to a stream of consciousness.
One recompense was that they'd got their aura under control, finally managing to stop sending waves of fear outwards, making their presence far more bearable. Yet for anyone able to tell, the merged dual souls would stand out like a beacon. Upon nearing the edge of town, quite oblivious to anyone else around them it turned to Kerik, flashing him a warm grin as it did. "You've been here before right? Wheres best to explore? Anywhere interesting or just somewhere to explore as a whole?" The words tumbling out the same way they always did, fast and running into each other.
The "disguise" consisted of the same hat they'd worn pre-transformation, pulled down hard over their lilac hair. Failing to hide both the fringe and the strands which flowed behind them in a ponytail. The eyes however, stood out like glittering jewels in a rock wall. The twin emerald lights glowing with a friendly warmth. The rest of the clothing apart from a new set of shoes, was the same: the same slightly tattered trousers and sheets of linen which wrapped around the upper torso.
The second was that the being stayed very close as much as possible to the older man, taking an almost absurd prize in his presence. For the being, regardless of the reason Kerik was following them, it felt oddly pleasing to have a living follower, particularly one they had rescued. Not that they'd admit that of course, instead translating their pleasure to a stream of consciousness.
One recompense was that they'd got their aura under control, finally managing to stop sending waves of fear outwards, making their presence far more bearable. Yet for anyone able to tell, the merged dual souls would stand out like a beacon. Upon nearing the edge of town, quite oblivious to anyone else around them it turned to Kerik, flashing him a warm grin as it did. "You've been here before right? Wheres best to explore? Anywhere interesting or just somewhere to explore as a whole?" The words tumbling out the same way they always did, fast and running into each other.
Atoli tilted her head slightly at Tara’s smile and quiet laughter, a tiny smile crept onto her face in return. When Hilda blurted out about helping out the knight she glanced at her with a raised eyebrow but remained quiet; her expression was likely clear enough to show her thoughts on how useful she thought the other female would be.
Atoli looked between the conversing group and crossed her arms as Merthyr told the healer off. When he spoke to Atoli once more she perked up a little at the acceptance of her offer and nodded…before he said the word “squire”. Her jaw went half slack for a moment at the implication. This was not what she had in mind. When she glanced to Tara and saw the smirk her cheeks flushed in rare embarrassment; the knight had definitely taken note of her previous remark on the matter.
“Ugh…I better get paid well. And I want food now before we go anywhere…” The harpy muttered as she glanced away and stepped up to the counter that Tara leaned on; smacking the surface loudly to draw the attention of Otso. “Food! Whatever good stuff you got.” Briefly recognizing the man from when the bandits were in charge. She hoped he wouldn’t spit in her food, the feathery creature was hungry enough to not care though.
Atoli looked back to the group as they discussed employing the wounded woman, Hilda, to help them scout. The little harpy spoke up then, “What good would she do? Having a cripple with me would only slow me down...” Her gaze flicked to Tara for a moment, “…Us down.”
((Let me know if I need to tone down Atoli, I don't want to offend anyone, but she's kinda a B$#& though.))
Atoli looked between the conversing group and crossed her arms as Merthyr told the healer off. When he spoke to Atoli once more she perked up a little at the acceptance of her offer and nodded…before he said the word “squire”. Her jaw went half slack for a moment at the implication. This was not what she had in mind. When she glanced to Tara and saw the smirk her cheeks flushed in rare embarrassment; the knight had definitely taken note of her previous remark on the matter.
“Ugh…I better get paid well. And I want food now before we go anywhere…” The harpy muttered as she glanced away and stepped up to the counter that Tara leaned on; smacking the surface loudly to draw the attention of Otso. “Food! Whatever good stuff you got.” Briefly recognizing the man from when the bandits were in charge. She hoped he wouldn’t spit in her food, the feathery creature was hungry enough to not care though.
Atoli looked back to the group as they discussed employing the wounded woman, Hilda, to help them scout. The little harpy spoke up then, “What good would she do? Having a cripple with me would only slow me down...” Her gaze flicked to Tara for a moment, “…Us down.”
((Let me know if I need to tone down Atoli, I don't want to offend anyone, but she's kinda a B$#& though.))
Merthyr looked at Tara with the most hopefuls of looks, the more she talked the more certain he was about her. He would have most definitely hugged Iskra if he didn't have expectations and protocols to follow for she had to have more information to share.
Instead he pulled out a roll of parchment and drew a very detailed portray of Taff and another of Katja and addded Grum's wanted parchment too.
"Warrior... I don't know your rank or name but I know for sure that you were fighting with us earlier, among the Knights of the People, saviours of this village.
Please, I require your services and assistance to aid my two friends in need. "This woman here, lady Katja, was probably taken captive..." explained Merthyr pointing at his well achieved life like drawing of Katja
"She went missing alongside him, my manservant Taff" added tapping Taff's portray
"... by this wanted bandit called Grum, who is now on the run and missing too. I request that you go to talk to my knight Faloan over there and deliver what details you recall of the battle itself, did you see Grum leave? Or Katja? which way did Grum leave? was he dragging one, two or more captives? Or perhaps you have seen either of these three during your journey here. Please, drink at leisure and try to jog your memory about the events, people and surroundings... after tell the knight all you're aware of, any detail, no matter how small is of the greatest assistance." Assured Merthyr assuming Sokol to be part of Katja's group
Instead he pulled out a roll of parchment and drew a very detailed portray of Taff and another of Katja and addded Grum's wanted parchment too.
"Warrior... I don't know your rank or name but I know for sure that you were fighting with us earlier, among the Knights of the People, saviours of this village.
Please, I require your services and assistance to aid my two friends in need. "This woman here, lady Katja, was probably taken captive..." explained Merthyr pointing at his well achieved life like drawing of Katja
"She went missing alongside him, my manservant Taff" added tapping Taff's portray
"... by this wanted bandit called Grum, who is now on the run and missing too. I request that you go to talk to my knight Faloan over there and deliver what details you recall of the battle itself, did you see Grum leave? Or Katja? which way did Grum leave? was he dragging one, two or more captives? Or perhaps you have seen either of these three during your journey here. Please, drink at leisure and try to jog your memory about the events, people and surroundings... after tell the knight all you're aware of, any detail, no matter how small is of the greatest assistance." Assured Merthyr assuming Sokol to be part of Katja's group
The old man smiled at Iskra upon hearing her reply. He smoothly collected a clean flagon from behind the counter and filled it with the contents of a nearby keg. Once properly filled he brought it to the bandit king and put it down on the bar before her. Otso gave the abundant payment a wide-eyed look but accepted it, his face flushing in surprise. "Why, um, thank you!"
Then Atoli smacked the counter. The man snapped to, his smile not as wide for the harpy but still present. "Coming up, little lady." The tavern owner walked to the kitchen to retrieve her order himself, placing it and its customary bread slices in front of her for inspection and, hopefully, eating. "Just don't throw it at anyone." Otso quipped.
Tara observed Iskra closely as she bought her flagon and made her case. She leaned back a bit while doing so, rubbing her chin in thought; at the same time payment for the food was delivered from one of her hands absently. "Thanks, Otso." The warrior looked back at Atoli. "Consider that your only complimentary meal from me. We'll all be working for it after this."
The king's expression towards her both endeared and amused the warrior; he must have been desperate, to be so affected by her agreement. The possibility of heartbreak on his part became very clear to her, and it was frightening. They'd just have to do things right, then.
Ave's arrival did not distract the knight in the slightest but as always Otso was ready to beckon her over. "Ave! Long time no see!"
_
Kerik would have liked to say he was surprised by their lack of subtlety but at that point it made sense. Between the (until then) constant thrum of terror clawing at the back of his mind and the fact that this being was at least half-adolescent, he could see very well why they'd choose to enter the town this way. The bandit (ex-bandit?) perked up somewhat as they had turned to interrogate him about the town, waiting until it seemed their stream of questions ended before answering to his best ability.
"Yes. Its not very fun for exploring unless you like farm animals. All the interesting stuff was made off with already..." He considered this. The tavern didn't seem like the best place to take the two, so he disregarded that option for the time. "There's a house in the center, folk say it was the first house built. There's a lot of shiny things there, and a small library." The chieftain had stayed in that house during the occupation; the lowly bandit didn't get to see much of it himself but he remembered its make was ornate by comparison to the other buildings.
Then Atoli smacked the counter. The man snapped to, his smile not as wide for the harpy but still present. "Coming up, little lady." The tavern owner walked to the kitchen to retrieve her order himself, placing it and its customary bread slices in front of her for inspection and, hopefully, eating. "Just don't throw it at anyone." Otso quipped.
Tara observed Iskra closely as she bought her flagon and made her case. She leaned back a bit while doing so, rubbing her chin in thought; at the same time payment for the food was delivered from one of her hands absently. "Thanks, Otso." The warrior looked back at Atoli. "Consider that your only complimentary meal from me. We'll all be working for it after this."
The king's expression towards her both endeared and amused the warrior; he must have been desperate, to be so affected by her agreement. The possibility of heartbreak on his part became very clear to her, and it was frightening. They'd just have to do things right, then.
Ave's arrival did not distract the knight in the slightest but as always Otso was ready to beckon her over. "Ave! Long time no see!"
_
Kerik would have liked to say he was surprised by their lack of subtlety but at that point it made sense. Between the (until then) constant thrum of terror clawing at the back of his mind and the fact that this being was at least half-adolescent, he could see very well why they'd choose to enter the town this way. The bandit (ex-bandit?) perked up somewhat as they had turned to interrogate him about the town, waiting until it seemed their stream of questions ended before answering to his best ability.
"Yes. Its not very fun for exploring unless you like farm animals. All the interesting stuff was made off with already..." He considered this. The tavern didn't seem like the best place to take the two, so he disregarded that option for the time. "There's a house in the center, folk say it was the first house built. There's a lot of shiny things there, and a small library." The chieftain had stayed in that house during the occupation; the lowly bandit didn't get to see much of it himself but he remembered its make was ornate by comparison to the other buildings.
Iskra couldn’t help but crack a smile at his response; the Bandit King had more than enough gold at her disposal. It was careless of her to hand off, but she just didn’t feel like counting it all out, truth be told.
But when Merthyr started tapping the portraits he had drawn, again she furrowed her brow. This was quite the predicament, though at least they sounded like they didn’t want Katja’s head on a pike, though looking back it seemed like a silly reason to be worried of such a fate. Still, that made it more important than ever that they didn’t find out who she was, and that she had Katja. Holding the leader of the Knights, who this man had described as the ‘saviors of this village’...the more Iskra thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea that she was in there.
Still, she needed to get them off her back. So Iskra drank from her flagon again, this time gulping down what was left, before letting out a deep exhale and setting the now empty cup down. She stood, her hood still up, and walked to Tara cautiously. She could see the recognition on her face, and it made her tense up just the faintest, “Dont bother lookin’ for the woman...rumor has it some mountain bandits have her. She’s as good as dead if that’s the case. As for that manservant and the beastly lookin’ fellow, I’m afraid I have no information on them.” Iskra turned on her heel, walking calmly towards the door and mumbling a short, “excuse me” to Ave as she slid by; until someone else had burst in, hitting her with the door and knocking the woman clean onto her back.
“Sir Iskra, Lady Katja has—!!“
Iskra pulled herself to her feet as fast as she could, driving her fist into the stomach of the bandit who had come to fetch her; he wore the black cloak of the Clan, the crest on the back in plain sight, hardly attempting to hide as Iskra had done. And then, with trembling fingers, Iskra dug them into the excess fabric of the man’s shirt, yanking him outside into the cold with her. The door shut behind them with a harsh slam.
But when Merthyr started tapping the portraits he had drawn, again she furrowed her brow. This was quite the predicament, though at least they sounded like they didn’t want Katja’s head on a pike, though looking back it seemed like a silly reason to be worried of such a fate. Still, that made it more important than ever that they didn’t find out who she was, and that she had Katja. Holding the leader of the Knights, who this man had described as the ‘saviors of this village’...the more Iskra thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea that she was in there.
Still, she needed to get them off her back. So Iskra drank from her flagon again, this time gulping down what was left, before letting out a deep exhale and setting the now empty cup down. She stood, her hood still up, and walked to Tara cautiously. She could see the recognition on her face, and it made her tense up just the faintest, “Dont bother lookin’ for the woman...rumor has it some mountain bandits have her. She’s as good as dead if that’s the case. As for that manservant and the beastly lookin’ fellow, I’m afraid I have no information on them.” Iskra turned on her heel, walking calmly towards the door and mumbling a short, “excuse me” to Ave as she slid by; until someone else had burst in, hitting her with the door and knocking the woman clean onto her back.
“Sir Iskra, Lady Katja has—!!“
Iskra pulled herself to her feet as fast as she could, driving her fist into the stomach of the bandit who had come to fetch her; he wore the black cloak of the Clan, the crest on the back in plain sight, hardly attempting to hide as Iskra had done. And then, with trembling fingers, Iskra dug them into the excess fabric of the man’s shirt, yanking him outside into the cold with her. The door shut behind them with a harsh slam.
Pentre frowned at the altercation and knew exactly what that black cloak and the crest on the back in plain sight were and came from.
"All warriors at arms and arrest that traveller ! She's one of those Northern bandits holding lady Katja to ransom!" barked Pentre looking at Tara and Atoli to spring to action quickly along with everyone else available to rush out to the chore of giving chase and seizing the former customer.
Merthyr immediately jumped to the task, taking up the sword only to have Pentre push him backwards and away from the door he was intending to open.
"Ohhh no, no, not you... sire... until you have a wife at least or a child of your own, preferrably, you're staying out of danger... your safety is paramount to the realm's stability" muttered Pentre
"As your eldest cousin and oldest head of the family, as the lord knight of the realm and your closest advisor I insist you remain inside" pressed Pentre arm straight and palm pressed on Merthyr's chest to stop his march. "Let the others do their duty for crown, kingdom and glory..." murmured Pentre watching Merthyr purse his lips displeased but kow-tow to his cousin's demands, sheathing the sword and stomping back to Otso and the food.
"A warm relaxing tea... please..." muttered Merthyr through gritted teeth, unhappy to see everyone else take up the opportunity
"I want her captured... alive... I have questions to ask..." warned Merthyr watching a few guards and a few lesser knights rush out in haste, looking to Tara for instructions and command since she was the highest authority besides Pentre and Merthyr
"All warriors at arms and arrest that traveller ! She's one of those Northern bandits holding lady Katja to ransom!" barked Pentre looking at Tara and Atoli to spring to action quickly along with everyone else available to rush out to the chore of giving chase and seizing the former customer.
Merthyr immediately jumped to the task, taking up the sword only to have Pentre push him backwards and away from the door he was intending to open.
"Ohhh no, no, not you... sire... until you have a wife at least or a child of your own, preferrably, you're staying out of danger... your safety is paramount to the realm's stability" muttered Pentre
"As your eldest cousin and oldest head of the family, as the lord knight of the realm and your closest advisor I insist you remain inside" pressed Pentre arm straight and palm pressed on Merthyr's chest to stop his march. "Let the others do their duty for crown, kingdom and glory..." murmured Pentre watching Merthyr purse his lips displeased but kow-tow to his cousin's demands, sheathing the sword and stomping back to Otso and the food.
"A warm relaxing tea... please..." muttered Merthyr through gritted teeth, unhappy to see everyone else take up the opportunity
"I want her captured... alive... I have questions to ask..." warned Merthyr watching a few guards and a few lesser knights rush out in haste, looking to Tara for instructions and command since she was the highest authority besides Pentre and Merthyr
As the food was placed in front of her she scoffed lightly at the waiter’s comment, her mood was already calming now that she had something to fill her stomach. She replied as she ate, her cheeks full, “Mmm, don’t worr-... I wouldn’t be sho- wayshteful.”
Atoli glanced at Tara when she commented about working and subtly rolled her eyes as she looked back to her food. Very well. As long as she got what she wanted she’d be satisfied. The harpy’s shoulders slackened as the tension drained from her muscles; She hadn’t gotten a good meal in a long time.
Even the racket that occurred between that hooded fellow and whoever burst through the doors didn’t deter the hungry creature from her food. She merely watched with an occasional noisy slurp. When Pentre shouted to be at arms, she leaned over her food protectively and stared; clearly not wishing to leave. Her large green eyes darting from Merthyr to Tara as she chewed.
Atoli glanced at Tara when she commented about working and subtly rolled her eyes as she looked back to her food. Very well. As long as she got what she wanted she’d be satisfied. The harpy’s shoulders slackened as the tension drained from her muscles; She hadn’t gotten a good meal in a long time.
Even the racket that occurred between that hooded fellow and whoever burst through the doors didn’t deter the hungry creature from her food. She merely watched with an occasional noisy slurp. When Pentre shouted to be at arms, she leaned over her food protectively and stared; clearly not wishing to leave. Her large green eyes darting from Merthyr to Tara as she chewed.
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