Dragon's Egg - Act II

[Legendary Sidekick]

I lie by the fire, snoring away. Cadell looks on curiously.

Come to think of it, I'm curious, too. I can see myself, and from a high altitude. The fire is directly below me. Blonde braids sway in and out of view.

I look at the tiny feet dangling below me. They're Nissa's!

Slowly, I see Nissa's landing through her eyes. Cadell does not react to her. His curiosity does seem piqued by the blue aura around me. The blue light trickles around the war paint on my arms and legs, chasing every stripe and swirl. The hue from Rydh's blessing glows whiter, whiter. Nissa hovers closer. I feel her feet hit the ground. Through her eyes I look like a big clumsy machine. Inside Nissa's head, I feel so light and delicate… yet much more powerful than when I'm me.

And right now, my big, powerful body is shaking.

"No… no… you don't…"

Tears run down my face. Flesh tone streaks halve the war paint on my cheeks.

"…killed you."

I feel the power growing inside Nissa.

Her tiny hands raise a sword.

"Hair… pin."

My face zooms into view!

Pure white.

"Nissa…"

13

"…we can… finish them… together…

"K-K-K-KHAWWWWWWWwwwwwwww…"

 

[Ireth]

I watch in mounting fascination -- and no small amount of confusion -- as the blue aura of magic surrounding Baldhart begins to turn white. She is shaking; I half-extend my hand to try to comfort her, but hesitate, not knowing what reaction my touch would evoke. She speaks, seemingly pleading with someone, as tears mar the warpaint on her cheeks. I suck in a breath when she mentions death. Who is she talking to, or about? Does it have to do with Nissa, whoever she is?

Her next word makes my eyebrows lift. Hairpin? What did that have to do with anything?

There is that name again. I narrow my eyes, trying to puzzle this together. Baldhart echoes my final words from the battle, and as I listen for more she lets out a truly impressive snore.

I sit back, cradling my stump, still baffled. What did all of this mean? I would ask her when she woke, but would Baldhart even remember it?

 

[Nihal]

Some of the drowsiness I'm feeling disappears. I don't dare to move a muscle so they won't notice me watching.

She's dreaming. I immediately recall her words about nightmares and fish demons. A cursed knife, I'm sure she said that. I couldn't possibly forget this, such a good opportunity to earn their trust... The memory of my failed spells weights on my shoulders.

I don't want to do it.

Her sleep-talk brings me back to the present, but I'm not sure if I can make out her words.

This glow must be some protective spell. The cleric? Yes, the shield guy must be one, he knows healing magic. But I don't think his spell should... glow like this. Aye, and I don't think it was the child's magic, they seemed as shocked as I was.

She is crying. I frown. Geez, it's like if she's a little girl trapped inside a giant body.

I keep watching, while contemplating all the information I've got about them so far.

 

[Ankari]

Things are worse now then when they were facing goblins riding rabid wargs. The ancient knight and the strange woman are staring at Baldhart in silent rapture. If the oddity of Baldhart crying wasn't enough, the glow around her sufficed. I start down at my bow, consider poking her until she wakes, then decide against it.

Rhydh is out cold. He exerted himself out there. Why he felt like he needed to place himself in harm's way is beyond my understanding. Probably something to do with a contrived eddict in his codices demanding worthy followers show their faith in sacrifice. Left with little options, I turn to the druid with the odd name. "Druid. What do you make her? Should I wake her from her sleep?"

 

[Ravana]

Since quite a bit has already happened, there's no point trying to inject my actions into specific continuity points anywhere. In general she did/does the following:

(1) Performs triage.
(2) Bandages all who need it… re-bandaging any who seem to call for it.
• ((WIS check at +4*, target 12. Makes more sense for GM to roll, since he knows how many times it needs done.))
(3) Makes sure someone brings Cadell's hand back, if it can be found.
(4) Hands out her remaining Goodberries ((four, or three if the raven needed one with Mauve's failed spell earlier—you didn't say he did, so I'm hoping not)) to whoever looks to be in the worst shape.
(5) Goes hunting for more berries. ((Yes, there are plenty of plants that have berries even in the winter.))
• ((To cast spell: WIS check ditto; each spell produces 2d4 berries. Can cast four times with current mana.))
(6) Welcomes any company to watch her back while doing (5).
(7) Assuming nothing eats those involved in (5) and (6): gives Hirvi his feed bag, returns to fire, tells Taevataat to sack out on statue or other convenient projection, tells Täplä he may go hunt, feeds herself, pulls out flute, plays quietly while listening to conversation, dodges any personal questions.

((Note: anyone who gets at least one Goodberry will not need to eat tonight, though there's also no reason not to. No one has gut wounds that I recall.))

•••

* @Steerpike: I need to ask you about this. You changed the description of the racial benefits. [Edit: I think I misread something; a proper reading makes it make more sense, so I changed the above. I'll PM you anyway.]

 

[Ankari]

((Ahem....))

"Druid. What do you make her? Should I wake her from her sleep?"

 

[Ireth]

Eventually my exhaustion overtakes my curiosity, and I stretch out by the fire, resting my head on my uninjured arm. The cold floor is far from comfortable, but I am too tired to care. It is not long before I fall asleep beside Baldhart.

The stars are bright tonight, glittering between the branches of the trees we pass under. Líadan slips her hand into mine, and I smile and pull her a little closer. A warm breeze carries the sweet, alluring scent of cherry blossoms; I breathe in deeply as we enter the pink-carpeted grove, my eyes on my lover.

"I wish you did not have to leave," she murmurs without looking at me. Her grip on my hand tightens.

I lower my eyes with a sigh. "I do not like it either, but I cannot disobey Her Majesty. If she deems me the best choice to travel north, then I must go."

"Why must it be you?" Her voice is hard, angry; she pulls her hand from mine and turns to look at me. "There are plenty of our kin who would be willing, those who have experience with sea voyages. You have barely begun your knighthood!"

I can only sigh and shake my head. Líadan's eyes shine with tears, and she raises a hand to wipe them away. I reach out and pull her close, murmuring into her ear.

"Ust, fy blodyn ceiriosen. You have me now until the morrow, and I will return to you when my task is done."

Líadan looks up at me, and takes a handful of my tunic. "Promise me."

I nod. "I promise, I will return. And I will be faithful."

I shift in my sleep, holding the empty air, and murmur in my dreams. "I promise..."

Líadan nods, holding my gaze. "And I promise to wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

I tuck a stray nut-brown lock behind her ear and lean slowly in for a kiss, my eager hands loosing the ties at the back of her dress. "Then I hope my parting gift will last until then."

As I lose myself in her embrace, the dream shifts. The forest is ablaze. Smoke clogs the air, and I run almost on all fours to avoid it, my tunic pulled up over my mouth and nose. I stumble, landing hard on the packed earth, coughing in the ash and dust. I raise my head and shout above the sound of roaring flames, "Líadan!"

I toss and turn, my breathing growing rapid. "Líadan!"

 

[Phietadix]

I choose not to sleep tonight. I've spent many nights without sleep and this day hasn't been very exhausting. My main concern is Mauve; something about her just seems to make me feel, uneasy. I need to keep my eye on Aliron and the druid as well. Tonight seems bad for sleep anyway. It is clear that something in Cadell's and Baldhart's dreams concern them. It all makes me feel on-edge. Besides, the dwarves will be back soon and will need some awake to discuss things with. I've had dealings with dwarves before and lack the prejudice of the elves. But diplomacy has never been my strongest point.

 

[Sparkie]

Let it heal

Let it alone

Let the spirit have time

To do as it will

For life regenerates itself

According to Their will

Psalms of War - Codex 7:309 (A poetic rendition of a common saying among Elven healers.)

*****​

My eyes open to firelight and the blackness of the night sky. At first, I don't even know who I am. Rydh. My name is Rydh Zwei.

I feel stiff, and I begin to stir. I make a slight motion with my leg, and my whole bodt flinches at the sensation. The pain brings all the memories back. The temple, the fight, the dwarves, all of it.

Without moving below the waist, I pull myself up so that I'm leaning back on my elbows and take in my surroundings. Cadell is near me, by the fire, restless in his dream. Baldhart sleeps close to the flames as well, but she looks somewhat... Different. Others are still milling about, in conversation, or otherwise occupied.

I look down toward my leg. Not much improvement there, despite my sleep. I then see something strange laying on my chest. They're berries, two of them. They look delicious, and since I haven't eaten anything lately I pop them in my mouth and chew. Wow! They're really sweet and tangy. I swallow, and I feel strangely energized, warm. The pain is fading a little. I look down at my leg to see it healing, as if I'd just cast a spell. Magic berries? How odd.

((Rydh gains 2 HP from Hijikki's berries.))

I then sit up fully, leaning forward to inspect my leg. In the proccess I see Matthew standing vigilantly, guarding us perhaps. I attempt to rise to my feet and I find that I can walk without much pain if I make an efort to avoid putting too much weight on my injured leg. I limp over to Sir Matthew and ask "Do you still have the book? The dwarven one? We should have our new companions look at it right away, don't you think?"

I say this, then I remember what happened right after we found the book. The symbol and chain, and Burnbright. Is she alright?

 

[Nihal]

"Uhm" I groan softly when my face touches the stone floor. I can't tell for how long I've been sleeping before my body slipped to the side.

I open my eyes only a little, at the sound of a voice, and see the cleric limping around the place.

Not... important.

I can't remember anymore why it was so crucial to stay awake. I can't even bring myself to pull my backpack and use it as a pillow, I just give in to the exhaustion, clumsily curling inside my cloak and sinking my face on it's fur.

Just.. alittlelon... A black sleep embraces me, blessedly devoid of any dreams.


((Mauve is the best-looking 1HP'er ever, I doubt she got another berry. She wouldn't notice it anyway unless someone pokes her and show it.))

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

I wake up and see Nissa standing before me where the fire once was.

I reach out to her.




Try not to burn yourself, silly.

Burn myself?

I can bend fire to form my image while you are awake.

Like the time you appeared in the morning sun.

Yeah. It's a trick. The dancing intensity of fire can easily become another image. I can protect you from damaging your eyes, but if you touch me you will feel only flame.

Oh.




I warm my hands by Nissa's form.




You protected me last night. So did Rydh... or his god, I guess.

You needed all the help you could get, it seemed.

But what did you protect me from?

I wish I could answer that. We'll figure it out together.

Then I shall continue to bear the burden of this knife, at least if that is the cause of my nightmare from the other night.

Yeah! Last night was no nightmare!

It was great fun, Nissa. You and I would make a great team!

You mean we will.

We already do!




Nissa gives me a smile, and in the next instant, the fire burns brightly.

That reminds me... where is Burnbright?

 

[SeverinR]

I take a small stack of wood a little ways away from the main group and build a fire, ensuring it will continue to burn, I slip my sword out and lean back, the blade in hand across my lap.
Glancing at the dwarves, I spit towards them, then look over the rest of our group, visually checking on each on injured.
"Where is that child?" I whisper as I look.

[wow, no one posted then everyone posted]

the sooner we part from the dwarts the better. They do not like us, and we do not like them. Someone might end up with an implanted blade.

 

[Ankari]

((Guys, Burnbright has been at my side the whole time. I'm teaching her lessons while insulting the dwarfs and considering poking Baldhart with my bow. ))

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

((She's awake now. I guess you could still consider poking her with the bow. I don't imagine that her being awake would stop Ankari from doing that.))

 

[SeverinR]

((Guys, Burnbright has been at my side the whole time. I'm teaching her lessons while insulting the dwarfs and considering poking Baldhart with my bow. ))

[sounds like a good lesson, insulting dwarves that is.]

"Sleep tight dwarts, and dream of your plump gravel voiced bearded women." I grumble.

Dwarts; the dimple wart on the arse on civilization.

 

[Steerpike]

The dwarves are gone for just over an hour, having taken their fallen comrades to be buried. They return to the group, grim-faced, and dig through their packs until they find leather skins full of a rich ale. The dwarves offer these skins around to the group, even (after a pointed look at Bren from Darin), to the elves, allowing any who wish a drink to have one. Bren also restrains himself from rising to the bait of any insults hurled his way.

They drink quietly at first, observing the group, listening to the conversation going on about them. Then, Darin begins to speak of Albin and Lodur, the two dwarves who fell to goblins and wargs that day. They speak, too, of Konur, who fell to the same two days past and was buried at what was once a dwarven meeting place and is now in the Taint. The stories they tell highlight the dwarves' bravery and honor, though they are laced with humor as well. As their tales wind down, Darin rises from his place by the fire and sings a low, solemn dirge in the first language of the dwarves. The words are strange to your ears, seeming to take shape and then merge into the next before you can fully realize the sound of the first in your mind. When he is done, Darin explains that the song is a traditional one, meant to entrust the spirits of the fallen to the All-Father.

The dwarves are as tired as anyone in party, though their remembrances carry them late into the night. They brush off any talk of business. "We have things to discuss," says Darin, "but tonight we remember the dead. Besides, there are things best discussed once the first rays of the sun have crept over the land."

They make themselves comfortable on the hard ground, sleeping a bit further from the fire than the rest of the group. Once down, they fall asleep quickly and Bren sets in to snoring, the sound rivaling that of the growling wargs from the battle.

Burnbright listens to Ankari and helps tend the fire into the evening. She casts worried glances at Baldhart, Rydh, and Cadell, but says nothing. Finally, the days events catch up with her as well and she scrounges together what blankets she can and places them near Ankari. Then she says "I'm hungry."

Burnbright takes whatever food Ankari or the others offer and eats it quickly, then settles into her blankets. Her eyes close quickly, but when Darin begins to sing they open again and she listens, rapt. She is fast asleep a few minutes after the song finishes.

The night is cold, but it is warm enough near the fire. The snow has stopped, and there is enough wood to feed the flames until morning. The air is still and quiet, though occasionally interrupted by distant howls from the north. None of these sounds seem terribly close, however, and the party's rest is not disturbed.

When morning comes, the first rays of light, while not terribly warming, illuminate a cloudless blue sky. The ice and snow glitters gold.

((Anyone else who wants to have done something during the night, go ahead and post accordingly. The dwarves defer all talk of "business" to morning, having lost comrades and also spent a good portion of the day fleeing goblins and wargs)).

 

[SeverinR]

Shock to all I know, I politely decline the offer of drink.
While they sing I quietly oil the blade and check it for damage.
I make it look as if I am sleeping sitting up, I will stay fairly alert, maybe drifting off into a light slumber, but any sound would awaken me.
I trust not the distant beasts nor the beasts that share the other fire.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

I approach Burnbright. "I'm glad to see you were unharmed by the magic. I was very worried when you passed out. That necklace glowed with a strange blue light."

I see there is still blue light around me, though it is not as brilliant as before. I suppose it will fade by morning.

"Well..." Though I may come off as defensive, I explain, "the blue light seemed scary when it was on you."

Burnbright seems bewildered by everything around her. Death, maiming, and who knows what she went through while she waited for us to come back?

"How are you holding up, Burnbright?"

 

[Steerpike]

Burnbright smiles tiredly. "I'm OK. I was just worried about everyone else. I don't know what happened with that necklace. When I put it on, I felt a shock, and then I couldn't see anything but black. I felt like someone was looking back at me through it. That's all I remember until I woke up on the stairs and you were all fighting. I'm sorry I was useless. I'll practice with my weapons tomorrow!"

 

[Ireth]

I finally jerk awake, gasping for breath. The fire is a little too warm; I shift slightly away from it, absently raising my left hand to rub my face.

Oh. Right. The hand that isn't there anymore. I bite back a curse directed at the wargs and goblins, lowering my arm and rubbing my face with my right hand. I glance toward the dwarves, and wonder if they would even consider crafting a replacement hand for an elf. After Bren's insults, I am hesitant to ask -- besides, it may cost more than I can pay. Nothing that valuable can be free.

I sigh and lay down again, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of Líadan. I have already lost a hand... I may well lose my life out here. What will become of her if I do not return? What will Queen Brígh think? How will they even receive word that I am fallen?

I shake the dark thoughts from my head, turning to face the fire. Dwelling on fears will get me nowhere. I may have lost a hand, but I still have the rest of me. And my comrades, these brave men and women who will not abandon each other in times of need. Nor will I abandon them.