[Game Thread] 1 - The Road To White

[Quick Ben]

Dawn, Autumn The watery, pre-dawn light struggled to illuminate the square at the center of Bevel. The remains of last night's revelry looked ghostly and forlorn on this side of the sunrise, but no one who was awake at this point had the time or inclination to dwell on it. A string of five horses stood placidly in a row angled toward the western edge of town. Their steady breath produced intermittent clouds of condensation in the chill morning air. Fall had come to Bevel. Mayor Gaines checked the harness and rigging unnecessarily. The men who'd been up well before dawn preparing the Caravan knew their business and all was in order. They were only waiting on the Team to arrive. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Most years, when Mayor Gaines said "dawn", the youngsters in charge of the Caravan seemed to take that to mean "wake up at dawn and make your way here at your leisure". Not for nothing, this usually had to do with their pre-departure celebration at the Duckling to toast or bemoan their Selection. As Mayor Gaines glanced at the slowly lightening eastern sky, he went through the list again in his head, trying to decide who he'd have to go roust from their bed this year. The Wade girl and the Goodfellow boy would both be here. They came from good families that wouldn't let them disgrace themselves. The white hair Follower was so intense she was probably already here. Mayor Gaines glanced around the shadowy square self consciously. That left Dariss or Pridespear. Dariss should be no stranger to early journeys what with all that Courier training. That left Markus. Gaines cracked his knuckles at the thought. If he had to track that boy down, Markus would be walking to White because he wouldn't be able to sit down. Patting the lead horse's flank, Mayor Gaines stepped out into the square and looked off towards the Pridespear farm, suddenly weary. Not a very religious man, he still found himself beseeching God on behalf of this years Caravan.

OOC Who doesn't love leaving on a trip at dawn? It is a week's travel to White and you'll reach the bridge in 3 days, so let's have a little departure RP and then we'll skip ahead a bit. The next DM post will move everyone down the path on Tuesday and then we'll have some fun with skill checks before the Corcoran Memorial Bridge (of Doom).

[Sendor]

Gerrold Goodfellow That night Gerrold had a long discussion with his parents Nathaniel and Martha Goodfellow. Naturally his mother was quite upset about the idea of her only son leaving for his first big trip. Martha has always been quite overprotective of the young man due to the blessing she believes him to be after so many miscarriages. Gerrold could only hug her and hold her hand and assure her that he would be safe. Yes Mother I will be sure to try to keep clean. Yes I will also try to eat healthy. I will, I will be extremely careful. No I won't meet some young lady and run off on you. And no I won't gamble or become a drunkard. And on and on and on. Nathaniel was more direct. He warned Gerrold to keep alert and to always stop and think before making a decision. He also told Gerrold that White was quite different from Bevel and that not everyone may be as friendly as the townfolk they are familiar with. He warned Gerrold not to trust anyone that was not from Bevel and to keep a sharp eye on his belongings. It is then when Nathaniel presents Gerrold with a few items to bring along with him to keep him safe and for his travels. First he gives Gerrold an old but sturdy-looking backpack packed with dried foods, a waterskin, some essentials for sleeping outdoors, a small sack of goods to sell in case he ever gets himself in a pinch, and a bit of rope which every man finds useful now and again. Next is a stout-looking and well-polished quarterstaff that belonged to Nathaniel's father Jonathan. Gerrold's eyes went wide. It was one of Nathaniel's most prized possessions as it is the only thing that he has that once belonged to Jonathan. Running his hands along the familiar curves of the quarterstaff, Gerrold can slighty smell the odor of the homemade oil his father uses on their wooden items. It's a combination of pig fat and lavender boiled by his mother, and Gerrold always thinks of home when he smells it. His father also produced two large sheath knives for Gerrold to bring along. A knife is always a useful thing for a man to have, so it's best to carry two in case you lose one. Gerrold's eyes began watering slightly at the generosity of his parents but he tried his best to hide it. It was then when his father walked over to his storage chest and pulled out a thick leather belt with a pouch connected to it. He dropped it in front of Gerrold, who heard the clink of coins inside. Looking a bit uncomfortable, almost ashamed, Nathaniel says "Your mother and I managed to save a bit for you in case your name was ever picked in the Selection. It's not much, but it should be enough to keep your head afloat and for you to have a good meal once you get to White." With trembling hands, Gerrold opened the pouch and couldn't believe his eyes. Sitting inside was five shiny gold coins - FIVE GOLD COINS. Gerrold's eyes immediately begin tearing up as he imagined how difficult it must have been for his parents to acquire that and how much they must have sacrificed on their own to give him this gift. It was too much for Gerrold. He broke down and kept hugging his parents and crying. It was a mixture of joy and sorrow, of appreciation and recognition. After their long discussion, Gerrold stood tall and swore to his parents: "I will do everything in my power to come home safely and to represent the Goodfellow name in a favorable light." Shortly thereafter the candles were blown out and the Goodfellow family retired for the night. Gerrold was up well before dawn as he usually is, but Nathaniel refused to make him do his usual chores. Instead Martha cooked him a huge breakfast and they all ate together for one last time. Then, with some more promises and hugs and tears, Gerrold steps off to start walking to the town square. Upon arriving, he doesn't see any of the other members of the team just yet. Just the Mayor standing by himself - although it's so busy with the preparations Gerrold doesn't know where to look. Adjusting his backpack slightly, Gerrold uses his staff as a walking stick and approaches Mayor Gaines. "Good morning sir. I'm here and...uh, ready, I suppose..."

[drake7223]

Arieril Wade As Arieril woke up to her father's gentle knocking on the door, it took her quite some time until she realized where she exactly was. First, she thought she was in her room back in the Church's cloister annex, but a second round of knocking quickly cast the numbness of sleep away and made her recall having slept in her parent's farm instead. Despite her objection, her mind suddenly remembered her of the events of the previous evening: the endless discussion between Helmud and William; then, the tiresome reconciliation of the two; and, finally, the farewell to her grandfather, who had "some delicate business to tend to," and would be, unfortunately, unable to see her off. As Arieril dragged herself down the stairs, her mother had already prepared a light breakfast, as it was the family's usual habit. Helia was still asleep, but the two had already said their goodbyes the night before. It was decided that William would escort their eldest daughter until she had left town, so Thilda and Arieril were forced to part at the farm's gate. A brief sendoff it was, but nonetheless strenuous for both of the dark-haired women. The affectionate mother then watched the two walk off into the distance until they could no longer be distinguished from the placid pastoral landscape which surrounded them, and then calmly made her way back into the house. *** Ever since she had moved out of her parent's farm, Arieril had gradually become less and less used to waking up this early in the morning. As a result, father and daughter did not exchange much words on their way to the Caravan's rallying point. Instead, Arieril was deep in thought, trying to convince herself once more that she had not left any important belongings behind. Arieril was altogether pleased with her broad array of equipment. First, there was her father's crossbow, which, although being infamous for jamming whenever someone felt the need to use it, still made a very respectful impression thanks to the elegant golden initials "WW" inscribed in the durable yew. Then, there was the bronze mace, which had been spent by the Church and which grandpa Helmud himself had entrusted to her the night before. For her protection, her father was glad to provide her with the combat gear which had been handed down in the Wade family for a couple of generations now: a somewhat rusty chain mail, accompanied by an unsophisticated iron shield. William also wanted her to have the sharp knife which complemented the paraphernalia, but she refused, not being particularly comfortable with the dreadful prospect of having to slice through a creature's flesh. In addition to her combat equipment, Arieril had also packed common travel supplies like a tinderbox and two days of rations. She also did not forget to include some more religious utensils such as a censer and an alms box, so that she could also do her rites while on the road. Other than that, she also carried her formal vestments, in case the group was required to attend any important audiences during their stay in CityGate. Finally, there was the red book of allegories and prayers which she had been reading the day before and which, by her request, grandpa Helmud had recovered from her chamber. As the two walked past the gate leading to the Pridespear farm, about half a mile from their starting point, William decided to break the morning silence in order to provide his daughter with some wise words of advice. "You be careful now, Arieril, my dear. I reckon the prankster boys just can't be relied on," --- perhaps it was their location that had suddenly reminded the man of the more mischievous nature of his daughter's male companions --- "so you lasses will just have to fend for yourselves. Then again, you do have a courier with you, and that silver-haired young lady... Yvonne, if I remember correctly," Arieril nodded in confirmation,"also seems like she will do her best in watching over you all, even though she might have a tad too obscure personality for my tastes." He paused briefly and then concluded while stretching out his finger, "and don't you forget: you're a very brave and resourceful girl yourself! Nay, already a woman now..." For a moment, her father's eyes seemed to sparkle beneath the tangerine light of the early rising sun. Were those tears, though, then they quickly vanished, being wiped off by the man's sturdy hands. *** Having sighted Mayor Gaines and the horses, the two tacitly approached the Caravan. William went on to salute Mayor Gaines and exchange a few words with the politician while Arieril simply bowed her head and resumed her reticent mood. Looking to the side, she caught a glimpse of Gerrold, who had apparently arrived quite some time before the two, and waved to him in a somewhat shyly fashion. Mustering up some courage, she then hesitantly approached the young lad. "Good morning. Have you seen any of the others around?"

OOC

[Peachyco]

Yvonne Cross, Human Fighter The night before, the Pastor had kept his distance from Yvonne. The young Follower understood that the old priest had been somewhat offended by the way that the Bishopric of Eaglebeak completely overlooked his authority. Yvonne did not pay the matter any mind, though - she had been given a mission, and the Pastor had no role to play in it. Regardless, before the break of day, the young rogue had already been awake. For an hour, she had devoted herself to prayer. Afterwards, she had snuck into the Pastor's room, and left a note of thanks atop his drawers. The old man had been kind to her, had provided her with her every need. She would not have it be said that she did not give thanks where thanks were due. "Thank you for everything, Your Grace," she had whispered very softly into the slumbering priest's ear. "May the Holy One continue to bless and watch over you." Then, just like a shadow in the night, the young rogue snuck out of the temple. It had still been completely dark when Yvonne arrived at the gathering area - only her night eyes, a trait that was rare even for the natives of Eaglebeak, had allowed her to make her way there without incident. The carts had been prepared, their loads covered by a thick, heavy fabric, but hadn't been hooked up to the horses yet. And so she waited in the shadows of the stables. She was so well-hidden that the stable hands who led the horses to their respective carts later did not realize that she was there. Only with the arrival of the Goodfellow boy and Arieril did the silvery-haired woman deign to reveal herself. "I am here, Mayor," she said softly as she approached. She nodded toward the boy. "Gerrold." She then walked up to Arieril and held both of her hands in hers. "It is wonderful to see you, Arieril. I look forward to our time together." Indeed, the young rogue had learned some time ago to cherish moments that she shared with other Followers of God, so few and far between do they come into her life.

Out of Character   Yvonne Cross, Female Human Fighter 1 HP 12/12, AC 16 (Leather, Shield), Hit Dice 1d10 Speed 35', Initiative +3, Senses Passive Insight 12, Passive Perception 14, Darkvision 60ft. Str 8 (-1), Dex 16 (+3), Con 14 (+2), Int 9 (-1), Wis 14 (+2), Cha 14 (+2) Saving Throws Str +1, Con +4 Skills Acrobatics +5, Deception +4, Perception +4, Stealth +5, Survival +4 Languages Common, Elvish (Provincial Dialect) Special Abilities Fey Ancestry: Advantage on saves vs. charms, immune to magical sleep Mask of the Wild: Can hide while lightly obscured by natural phenomena Second Wind (1/1): Once per rest, as a bonus action, regain 1d10 + level hp Longbow ranged 150/600, +7 to hit, 1d8+3 piercing damage Rapier +5 to hit, 1d8+3 piercing damage Dagger thrown 20/60, +5 to hit, 1d4+3 piercing damage Handaxe thrown 20/60, +1 to hit, 1d6-1 slashing damage Background Criminal (Zealot Assassin), Faction Followers of God Physical Description This slender, young woman moves with the grace of a stalking panther, her movements lithe, her steps quiet. From the small patches of skin that are left uncovered, it can be seen that she has a pale complexion that contrasts sharply with her dark, unassuming clothing. From the dark depths of the hood that is pulled up over her head come the occasional strands of long, silvery hair, and the sparkle of vibrant, bright-grey eyes.

[Morpheus]

The Night Before The words were as surprising as the tone of pain that carried them. All thoughts of pranks and mischief disappeared with the suddenness of the sun setting in the eve. Markus felt a strange sensation. It was like a tearing sensation at his heart. Regarding his closest friend with an unreadable expression, Markus felt the lump in his throat first just before his eyes clouded momentarily. Even the way she talked now....it sounded so hollow and broken. I had no idea.... Markus swallowed. The others had left now, with just the two of them there. But in all honesty it would have made no difference to him anyway right now. They might as well had not existed for all he cared. With a small smile, Markus Pridespear stepped up to Dariss Summers, and he looked her in the eye. Markus nodded. "Dariss, I....." What did it matter though? It didn't. Not in the slightest. This was still Dariss Summers. His Dariss. Smiling softly, Markus reached out and drew her into an embrace. Enfolding his arms around her, Markus closed his eyes, holding her tight. There he stood as the seconds ticked by and the evening drew on. He drew her head onto his shoulder, running his hand through her hair softly. Finally, he drew back slightly, although he still held onto her, looking her in the eye. "Why didn't you.....no that doesn't really matter." He continued to smile softly. "I don't know who my parents are, and I probably never will. Every night I have nightmares. I see shadows who call themselves my mother and father. They tell me that I'm worthless, and that I don't even deserve a real name. I....." Shaking his head, he looked away for a moment, before looking back. "I guess that doesn't matter though. What I'm trying to say is that I understand." Leaning in, he kissed her softly on her head before touching her chin, gently lifting her eyes up level with his. "No tears, and no more sadness okay? We've got the rest of our lives ahead of us, and I wouldn't have you any other way." Letting go, he held his hand out to her. "Now, as you say, lets go get ****-faced." This Morning Markus woke that morning in much better condition than he thought he was going to be. Last night, despite their words, had not been about the drink, or getting drunk. It had been about companionship and friendship. And the strangest thing this morning was that, for the first time that he could remember for a long time, there had been no nightmares. Markus felt more complete than he had for a long, long time. Donning his travelling gear, Markus took a deep breath as he slung his backpack over his shoulders. He shook his head as his eyes scanned over the room. It was hard to pinpoint why, or how, but Markus got the strange sensation that he would not see this room again for a long, long time. He walked up to the table, and he picked up a wooden carving of a panther, turning it over in his hands. Dariss had given it to him once. He was unsure of whether she had made it herself, or whether she had gotten someone else to carve it, but whichever it was, it mattered little to him. Placing the carving in his backpack, the corners of Markus's mouth turn up in a slight smile. Markus looked to the fishing rod mounted on the wall. There had been many days he had spent on the rivers around Bevel fishing. He looked to his desk, to the many paintings and drawings he had made in his spare time. Of the lake and the meadows around the area. Opening a leather case, Markus withdrew the shortbow inside it. Turning it over in his hands, he held and pulled the drawstring back, almost as if firing an imaginary arrow. He had always been a deft shot with the shortbow, and he got the strange feeling that it would see use on this journey. Markus had no idea what life was like outside Bevel, but one way or another he was going to find out. His eyes glanced back to the table at the back of the room and he reached out, picking up a small picture. A girl, pale skin, dark hair, grey eyes. Dariss. Markus rolled it up, placing it inside the backpack also. Again, although he could not quite explain, it felt important....fitting even to have the portrait with him. Finally, Markus went to the door of his room. He opened it, takes one step out, and then paused, hesitating. Looking back in, he stared at the room one last time, trying to etch its shape, its size and everything inside of it to his heart and soul. Goodbye. The door closed behind him. When finally Markus reached the designated meeting spot, ready to go, he noted Gerrold, Arieril and Yvonne. Where is Dariss? Looking around, Markus couldn't see her. Inwardly hoping she was ok, he nodded to the others one by one with a slight smile on his face.

[Sendor]

Gerrold Goodfellow Gerrold returns Arieril's wave with a shy wave of his own. Gerrold was always comfortable in front of crowds and when plotting a daring prank or two, but for some reason his wits and his tongue always seemed to get silly around girls for some reason. Gerrold knew why - heck, EVERY young man his age knew why - but he couldn't understand why his usual unshakeable confidence suddenly betrayed him in these situations. Seeing her approach, Gerrold is noticeably aware it is just the two of them. He stares at her eyes, wondering what color they actually are. They look blue, but then they look green. Blue or green? He wasn't sure. He almost misses her good morning but does catch the question. "Good...morning! No, I don't see anyone else yet. Just us two." His eyes then grow wide as he sees her armor and her crossbow. The questions start flowing. "Wow, you have armor?? How heavy is it? Is it hot? Is it yours? How far can that crossbow shoot? Do you have the arrows for it? Are you good with it?" He stops suddenly, realizing he was being a bit silly. He then sees Yvonne approaching and feels even more self-conscious. She too is outfitted with armor and fancy weapons, and with the way she walks he can tell that she knows how to use them. Gerrold grips his grandfather's quarterstaff a bit tighter and secretly wishes it was a big shiny sword instead. Granted he had no training in the sword and he could actually use this quarterstaff fairly well, but for an adventure like this a sword seems more appropriate. Speaking of how Yvonne walks... Gerrold is acutely aware that apparently the leather armor that she wears is much tighter than the armor Arieril wears. Gerrold tries not to stare as she approaches and warmly greets Arieril. He does manage to muster a friendly sounding "Good morning Yvonne." He practically whooped in delight once he saw Markus approaching. Not only is the awkwardness of him being by himself around two older attractive women gone, but he is excited to see his friend and to go on the trip of a lifetime with him. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, Gerrold says "Morning ya git! Where's Dariss? She's not still drunk is she? If she's sleeping in still I vote we find a bottle of ink and get artistic on her face."

[ArionNaomi]

Dariss A Heart to Heart Dariss felt her heart seize up as Markus looked at her. She wanted to shake her head and tell him not to say it. She hadn't told him about her upbringing, fibbing about where she went home to. She knew it was wrong of her, but he didn't need to know. He had parents who loved him, even if they weren't his birth patents. He started to speak, but thankfully didn't address it. Then he did something she didn't expect. He drew her into a tight hug. Against her want to bottle her emotions away, she found herself battling back sobs. She managed not to sob, only just, letting her head rest on his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair. Tears did fall, silent and telling. To her, he was her only family. The emotions of the day wore on her and they came out: the earlier rejection he had given her, her stubborn determination to get him on the caravan with her, her worry that he wouldn't make it on the caravan, and her fear that if he did make that he would be done with her as he had said earlier. But he had made it and he was happy to be going with her and he didn't hate her for slipping up about her past. She sighed as the tears subsided. He pulled back from her, still holding her and he told her a thing she didn't know about... the nightmares. She had no idea his past weighed on him so much. He trailed off and she filled the silence. "You have a name. You're Markus Pridespear. You're my Markus Pridespear. Whoever those shadows are, they lost any right to call you anything or torment you the day that the Pridespears took you in. I just.... I'm sorry I never.... didn't want to burden you with the weight of my stuff too. You didn't deserve it, so I stuffed it all in. Guess it finally got too much to keep in and it leaked a little." She gave a small smirk, recalling pranks that made people leak a little. He leaned in a little and kissed her forehead a little, in a completely "we are only friends" kind of way. But still she enjoyed it and the small day dream that they could ever be more than just friends. She nodded in acquiescence to his demand for no more tears, not trusting her voice to work just yet. When he let her go, Dariss worried that she might well fall over, and thank God she didn't. That would have been awkward. When he held out his hand, she mustered a small smirk as she took his hand and the two walked hand in hand to the tavern and proceeded to inebriated. Strange Sleeping Place Some time later, when Dariss and Markus stumbled back toward their respective dwellings, Dariss had a brilliant idea. One part prank, one part pragmatism, she stumbled back to the bakery where she rented a small room in the baker's house. Quite intoxicated, she fumbled with her key until she got the front door open and went to her tiny room. The space was barely bigger than a large closet with a small bed and a chest. Dariss stubbed her toe on her bed whole crossing to light a candle next to her bed. Swearing, she pulled open her trunk and retrieved the pack she already had ready, her courier satchel and her weapons, including her short sword. Then she set back out, leaving her candle to gutter like she sometimes did when leaving on a mail delivery. It took her five tries exactly to get the for locked behind her. Then she set out for where the wagons were for the caravan to White. The looks on their faces would be well worth a cold night. Still, even drunk as she was she managed to pray before falling asleep. *** Early morning came and with the sound of jingling harnesses and someone checking straps and harnesses. Dariss shifted under the tarp she was sleeping under, but made no sound. Slowly steps came up to the wagons. She stirred again. Voices sounded. The mayor, Arieril, Yvonne, Gerrold and Markus. Yes, it was time to get up. Hungover, she pushed the tarp up on the wagon and cast a glare at Gerrold. "Thanks for the warning, I shall now confiscate all ink pots from you before we set out. Just to be safe." She was acutely aware that her hair was likely a disaster from sleeping in wagon, but such was life. She sat up and slipped out of her spot, sword on hip and pack and satchel in hand. "Morning.. had to make sure I wouldn't be late.." she said, her voice thick with sleep. She walked over to Markus and leaned her head on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own. She was nearly asleep on her feet. Today would not be pleasant.

[Quick Ben]

Departure Mayor Gaines greeted Gerrold and Arieri roughly as they arrived, still contemplating the many and varied physical injuries he would inflict upon Markus should the young man hold up the Caravan. He was distracted by the arrival of Mr. Wade and spent a few long moments exchanging increasingly tense words with the man while the rest of the companions trickled in. Finally breaking from the man with a curt gesture, he made his way over to the young folks milling around the wagons, smoothing his features in mayoral firmness while he approached. "Good. You're all here." He met each of their eyes in turn, resisting the urge to stand Dariss up and smooth our her wild hair. His eyes eventually settled on Arieril, "Have you settled on which route you are taking? I've got a map here with both routes marked although I dare say your Courier probably has the same map." Mayor Gaines wasn't shy about calling the Caravaners to task, practically barking Dariss' title in the direction of the dozing young woman. Handing the map to Arieril, he motioned to the five wagons standing ready in the pale dawn light. "As I told you last night, you'll each take a wagon. It would be best if all the wagons arrived at CityGate." He gave them all a hard look. "Otherwise, the wagons have been provisioned to keep you comfortable during the trip out, but you'll have to pick up supplies at the CityGate market for the way back. Arieril will have enough gold for that once you get there. Have fun, but remember, Bevel is counting on you. We'll see you in a couple weeks. Any questions?" His piece said, and seemingly distracted by the duties of his august office, Mayor Gaines nevertheless remained to see the caravan well off or to critically oversee the caravan's departure, depending on how one viewed the man.

[Peachyco]

Yvonne Cross, Human Fighter Making her way over to the beautiful, black draught horse that she'd been eyeing all morning, Yvonne stowed her pack into the cart that had been hitched onto the animal. She was on a mission to get to CityGate as soon as she can, and the Courier woman was obviously in such a physical and mental state that would not be conducive to driving a horse-drawn wagon. While she really could not care any less about the woman, any trouble with her and her wagon would slow down their progress. Somehow, the Courier's well-being had an impact on the silvery-haired woman's mission. "With all due respect, Your Honor," the young woman called out even as she climbed onto the driver's seat, "but the Courier seems unfit to drive on her own. I suggest that her cart be attached to the back of mine, and her horse be hitched alongside mine so that I can keep an eye on her." She cast a cold gaze upon the Courier, looking her up and down, sizing her up. She then turned to look to the sky, her bright-grey eyes taking in the color that was beginning to spread throughout the dark, early-morning sky. "It is just a suggestion, Your Honor," she continued. "Whatever is decided, we should be going soon. We are wasting valuable time. Daybreak comes."

Out of Character   Yvonne Cross, Female Human Fighter 1 HP 12/12, AC 16 (Leather, Shield), Hit Dice 1d10 Speed 35', Initiative +3, Senses Passive Insight 12, Passive Perception 14, Darkvision 60ft. Str 8 (-1), Dex 16 (+3), Con 14 (+2), Int 9 (-1), Wis 14 (+2), Cha 14 (+2) Saving Throws Str +1, Con +4 Skills Acrobatics +5, Deception +4, Perception +4, Stealth +5, Survival +4 Languages Common, Elvish (Provincial Dialect) Special Abilities Fey Ancestry: Advantage on saves vs. charms, immune to magical sleep Mask of the Wild: Can hide while lightly obscured by natural phenomena Second Wind (1/1): Once per rest, as a bonus action, regain 1d10 + level hp Longbow ranged 150/600, +7 to hit, 1d8+3 piercing damage Rapier +5 to hit, 1d8+3 piercing damage Dagger thrown 20/60, +5 to hit, 1d4+3 piercing damage Handaxe thrown 20/60, +1 to hit, 1d6-1 slashing damage Background Criminal (Zealot Assassin), Faction Followers of God Physical Description This slender, young woman moves with the grace of a stalking panther, her movements lithe, her steps quiet. From the small patches of skin that are left uncovered, it can be seen that she has a pale complexion that contrasts sharply with her dark, unassuming clothing. From the dark depths of the hood that is pulled up over her head come the occasional strands of long, silvery hair, and the sparkle of vibrant, bright-grey eyes.

[Morpheus]

Wait wait wait nobody's seen her. Markus looked a little bit out of sorts as Gerrold asked where she was. He shook his head as he answered in an unusually subdued voice, "We went separate ways on the way back, I was kinda hoping she'd already been here." Dariss ended the night in a fairly bad state, far worse than him. He'd put that down to the painful thoughts that had surfaced inside her earlier on than anything else. Inwardly Markus cursed the fact that he hadn't escorted her home, especially in the state she was in. It was not like her to be late for anything, especially with her being a courier. Then she popped out of the wagon, glaring at Gerrold. Markus chuckled slightly at the sight of her and the warning she fired over to the youngster, more to cover his own unease at her disappearance earlier than anything else. When she came over to him and placed her head on his shoulder, seemingly struggling to stay upright, he unconsciously slipped his arm around her waist to help her stand upright. Markus remembered what she had said to him last night, that he was her Markus and he felt something of a warm glow inside of him. It had been so long since he had felt like he belonged anywhere truly, if indeed he'd ever felt that at all that he had really appreciated the words. It made him extra eager to hold on to everything that they had, whatever it took. As he gazed idly towards her, he wondered what it was exactly that the two of them had. Markus wasn't sure, they had been friends now for so long that the idea of anything else between them seemed ludicrous, not that she wanted anything more anyway. Of that he was pretty sure. Sighing inwardly, Markus was temporarily distracted by the Mayor's question. He nodded his head in the affirmative to the question, looking over towards Arieril as he did. Strange, when did I look to Arieril as a leader? It was at that point that Markus realised that he had subconsciously accepted Arieril as the leader of the little troupe. Of them all, she seemed to be the most rational and sensible. He nodded to her in affirmation of this fact. And then Yvonne suggested that Dariss ride with her on the journey there until she was in a fit state to go herself. The mere thought of the suggestion caused Markus to frown darkly, and the cold look she gave Dariss did not improve his disposition towards the idea. Subconsciously he clutched Dariss tighter to him. No way I'm going to let that one sink her claws into you. Still frowning darkly, Markus spoke up in opposition to the idea. "With all due respect to Yvonne's suggestion sir, but if Dariss is going to drive with anyone on this journey, it should be me." He cast his own cool gaze towards Yvonne as he continued. "But I'm sure Dariss is perfectly capable of speaking for herself, as she is looking after herself."

[drake7223]

Arieril Wade "Good...morning! No, I don't see anyone else yet. Just us two." Being it the first time she had the opportunity to address Gerrold without any of the others around, the thought of scolding the lad's mischievous behavior from the previous day briefly crossed Arieril's mind, but her trail of thought was abruptly interrupted by a barrage of questions. "Wow, you... heavy? ...hot? ...yours? How far... crossbow... arrows... good with it?" Being it so early in the morning and still feeling her eyelids somewhat heavy, Gerrold's words were simply all jumbled up when they reached Arieril's ears. The young acolyte shook her head in distress, attempting to come back to her senses. "Huh? I... hot? I..." "Good morning Yvonne." Turning herself around, Arieril saw the elegant silver-haired Follower approach, eagerly stretching out her hands to meet with hers. "It is wonderful to see you, Arieril. I look forward to our time together." The woman's calm voice had an irresistible soothing effect to it, and the auburn-haired cleric's mellow morning torpor was quickly restored. "So do I, Yvonne," she said in a rather drowsy tone, "it'll be a very pleasant journey, I'm sure of it." Next up was Markus, who arrived in an unusually sulky mood. Yet, just when Arieril was about to bring up the subject with Yvonne, a ghastly Medusa-like figure suddenly sprang from inside one of the wagons right next of her. She could not help but let out a gasp in terror, and a chill went up her spine as every cell in her body finally became fully awake. However, Arieril felt completely silly and blushed once she realized the apparition was in fact just their courier companion, who apparently had some eccentric mannerism regarding sleeping places. Gathering up the party, Mayor Gaines suddenly started to ask Arieril about the route they had chosen and then handed her a map, just as if it had been clear ever since yesterday that it was she who would be officially taking over the Caravan's command. "Sir... I..." Realizing the dimension of her responsibility, Arieril felt disheartened and was at a loss for words to answer, and the man was apparently just too eager to get the expedition underway in order to wait for her response. Nevertheless, as he continued, her gaze diverted to the space behind him, and there it met with her father's eyes, which had been keenly observing the meeting from a distance. William was simply amazed at the Mayor entrusting his daughter with such an important task and happily signaled his support by smiling at her while assuringly displaying his clenched fist. Arieril smiled back and, once the Mayor finished speaking, finally found the courage she had lacked before. "Mayor Gaines, sir, we've decided to take the bridge route on the way. It is the safest path, and we do not wish to take any risks, not with such an important cargo. As for our way back, we'll decide that once we arrive in CityGate." And then she hesitated but still added, "rest assured... we value your trust and faith in us. We shall not let you down."

OOC

[Sendor]

Gerrold Goodfellow Gerrold was still snickering at the thought of decorating Dariss' face when all of a sudden the tarp on a nearby wagon shot up and a wild-haired woman rolled out of it. Gerrold instinctively takes a step back in shock, and his mind suddenly flashes to the stories of witches he occasionally hears when he can make it to the square for any travelling bards. It was then he realized the yelling pale-skinned demon with the hair of black flames was actually Dariss. A hungover, grouchy Dariss. Gerrold cannot help but double over in laughter as he sees her struggle to climb out of the wagon and head towards Markus. Trying to speak through his laughter, he says to her "Buh...by the gods, Dariss! You look like something a cat threw up!" He giggles inanely at her odd appearance as he tries his best to stifle them by holding his right hand over his mouth, but it does little good. Her threat merely falls on deaf ears it seems. After the Mayor hands Arieril the map and they all head to their wagons, Gerrold first slowly approaches the chestnut colored horse hitched to his wagon. Seeing she's a female, he addresses her softly as he slowly approaches her from the front to show her he means no harm. "Hey girl, hey! Hey! I'm Gerrold. I'm going to be riding with you today!" He continues to speak in a calming tone towards the horse and slowly extends his hand towards her, pausing slightly and still talking nicely until the horse gives his hand a friendly brush. Smiling broadly, Gerrold gives the horse's nose a quick scratch and then runs his hands through her mane. "We're going to have a nice trip, girl" he whispers, "Don't you worry!" Gerrold then takes his backpack and hooks it securely on the bench, sliding his quarterstaff in between the straps where he can grab it quickly if he needs to. He gets comfortable and grabs a light hold of the reins, and waits for their departure.

[ArionNaomi]

Dariss [imgr] Dariss yawned widely, raising a hand to try to smooth out her wild locks. Instead of her fingers going straight through her hair, her fingers got caught in a tangle. The Mayor called her out and she yawned again in an exaggerated fashion. "Yes, sir, I have my map. If Arieril loses her map, I can navigate us. If we stick to the road, I don't see how we can get lost." Yvonne called her out on her state of being and it caused her to enervate, if only a little. She leveled a glare at the woman and straightened a little, noticing for the first time that Markus's arm was around her waist. She made no move to remove it. "Hey now! It's just a little hangover and I've only just woke up... Gimme an hour and I'll be right as rain." Gerrold's giggles make her eyes fall on him next. "Thanks, buddy.... Let me thump you on the head and see how you fair with a thumping headache and say you look just peachy." She stuck her tongue out at the young farmer's son. Falling silent, she tried to untangle her hair some more. "I am just not a morning person... If I don't fall asleep near where I leave from, I could oversleep and be late. This way, I could oversleep if I need to and still make the departure time with everyone else." She winced as her fingers caught in the tangles and she tugged them straight, gradually making her hair lay flat-ish. There was not too much help, it had become quite frizzy under her forceful ministrations. It fluffed and little pieces settled around her face, making her look more wild than ever.

[Morpheus]

Markus smirked to himself as he glanced over to Gerrold and back at Dariss. Now there's a fight that I'd pay good money to see, he thought to himself at the vision of Dariss thumping Gerrold on the upside of the head. He was blissfully unaware of the fact that his arm stayed around Dariss, but even had he been conscious of the fact it was unlikely that he would have removed it anyway. At Dariss's protestations, Markus frowned again slightly, though not as much as he had frowned earlier at the thought of Yvonne riding with her. He thought about it for a moment and shook his head slightly as he responded. "You certain that you're going to be ok riding yourself bestie?" His frown then changed into a slight grin as he added, "Sure you don't want to ride with me for a little bit, at least until we are a hour or two down the road?" Keeping his arm around her, he leaned in to whisper into her ear, "For one I'd really enjoy the company on the first part of the journey -- noone's better than you bestie." Balling his fist, he punched her lightly on the arm with his other hand. "And secondly, we can make plans for the journey ahead." With a conspiratorial wink to Dariss, he glanced over towards Yvonne, "I can think of at least one person on this trip who really deserves a Pridespear and Summers special." If Yvonne were to glance over in their direction, Markus would smile sweetly and wave innocently, with what he hoped was a "not guilty" expression on his face.

[Quick Ben]

Departure Mayor Gaines grunted at the distinct lack of questions he was receiving from the group. Instead, he weathered the banter with ill disguised impatience, content that at least some of the youngsters were getting mounted up. Turning to Dariss, he responded to Yvonne's suggestion. "Ms. Summers would have to actively mislead the horse to get him to go anywhere but CityGate. They know their business better than any of you, so just let them do their jobs, keep them safe and fed, and they'll get you there." Turning his gaze upon Markus, he nipped all that whispering in the bud. "Ms. Summers will be riding her own wagon, Mr. Pridespear. I suggest you get to picking, unless you'd like me to go find the more flatulent horse for your wagon." Please let the make it at least out of sight of the village, Mayor Gaines prayed silently.