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The Winds of Ysgard - Part One

Ireth

Mythic Scribe
Rikhard rose early, as usual, and made his way down to the common room after a quick splash of cold water to the face. He was surprised to find he wasn't the first one up. Shrugging, he took a seat next to Bendalitz. He didn't know the man very well yet, and making friends among his company would probably be wise. "Morning."
 

Legendary Sidekick

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Addison replied to Einan, "Oh, yes, please join me. Make sure I don't slump into me eggs." She quickly turned to the barmaid, adding, "Yes, eggs. Eggs with bit o' meat in 'em. If this is one o' those places that puts bits o' cheese in the eggs too, I'l have that. I suppose I'll have it anyway. I mean, how hard can it be to put bits o' cheese in the eggs?"

When the barmaid seemed to take the question as rhetorical, Addison said, "I'll trust the chef to make what tastes good. Why not see what me friend'll eat?" She waited for Einan before joining Bendalitz and Rikhard. She greeted them with the stereotypically Caernish "Top o' the morning to ye."

She let the two men converse in peace, and said to Einan, "I slept like a corpse, and now I could eat one, maggots and all. Who knew speaking to animals would work up such an appetite? Maybe next time, I talk one onto me plate."
 
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Tom

Istari
"I'll have what she's having," Einan told the barmaid. He smiled at her. "Hope your friend's doing better--what was her name?"

She returned the smile hesitantly. "Sheena. And aye, she's doing better, thanks to your girlfriend. Says her ankle doesn't hurt all that much anymore."

"That's good." Seeing that Addison had moved to sit with Benalitz and Rikhard, he followed her, nodding to the two men. Addison spoke to him as they sat down, commenting about how tired she was. She certainly looked it. There were dark circles under her eyes, and even her wild hair looked a little...wilted.

"I suppose all magic has its costs," he replied. "I know the feeling--after coming home from a hunting trip, I sometimes think I could eat a whole pot of stew by myself."
 

Gryphos

Dark Lord
Despite not exactly expecting company, Bendalitz smoothly nodded in greeting to Rikhard. "Morning." Then Addison showed up, and he gave another "Morning." When Einan turned up he'd already tired of the word and instead opted to say, "Fine."

After a few moments of quiet, he looked to Rikhard. "You sore?"
 

Ireth

Mythic Scribe
Rikhard shook his head. "No more than usual. I got off easy in that fight, and I'm glad of it." It didn't quite make up for all the times he hadn't avoided injury in the past. He stared down at his hands, idly tracing the contours of the burns he'd come to memorize over the years. The phrase "he knew it like the back of his hand" had some truth to it.
 

DMThaane

Mystagogue
Loke woke early, the weight of a day in armour wearying him. It had made for an impressive sight, but it was an unnecessary burden on the road. He'd leave it on the cart with his heavier weapons. No sense in burdening Snorri.

At least he did not have bruised knuckles or a split lip to annoy him. Some of his companions had fared less fortunately in the fight. Brawling had become second nature to him and not just from the rowdiness of being around fighters. Without a true martial history to draw upon, they had needed to develop their techniques. It had been a collaboration recorded in bruised limbs and broken bones. The results, however, proved its worth.

He headed downstairs with just his seax at his side and asked for water, bread, and cooked fowl. Some of the others were already there and he threw a quick nod in their direction.

There was still a tension in the room, but it was little compared to the previous night. They had made their impression and made it well. Just a shame it had been done so publically.
 

Legendary Sidekick

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When Einan spoke of hunting, Addison said, "Hunting never tired me so much. Either I was able to pace meself, and the hunt relaxed me. Or there were the dangerous hunts. Aside from the hunt that near killed me, most o' the danger kept me going. Even the rush o' battle last night, it was like me body forgot about being tired for the time."

Just talking about hunting seemed to help with the tiredness. "How do ye go about it? Hunting I mean? Ye know, just the arrow, or do ye prefer something less conventional like a spear? Do ye track 'em, trap 'em, bait and wait, or just walk the forest with your bow readied?"
 

Tom

Istari
He considered for a moment, then replied, "I use my bow--never used a spear before, besides to catch fish. Lying in wait is not my style. Takes too long, and I get jumpy after a while. So I track my prey. It's more...rewarding, you know? Just to finally bring down that deer after a day of stalking it."

The barmaid came with their food, and he hurried to finish before Addison had a chance to dig into the eggs. They smelled of cheese and ham, and he felt his stomach twinge with hunger.

"How about you? What do you do on the hunt? That shocker o' yours must come in handy."
 

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Addison took a large bite of her eggs and swallowed hard before answering.

"Me shocker's for the ones that put up a fight. It'll save ye from a stampede or a charging rhino, and I'm told it can even hold a wyvern a few seconds." She thumped on the wyvernhide covering her chest, adding, "I only ever hunted the one, and what I used on him was stronger than me trap."

She took another bite, smaller this time, and washed it down with tea before giving Einan a proper answer.

"For meat hunts, I do without me fancy equipment. The bow I got for me sixteenth birthday's the only bow I've used since. I like to be on the move meself. Alone, I tend to track. But there were days with me best friend, just her and I wandering the wilderness aimlessly, surviving off what beasts we happened upon. She was a big girl—big enough she had to duck under a door. She had the arm for spear hunting. Not the aim, though. Aw, but we had fun anyway. And she could cook me kills and do all the heavy lifting."

Addison slipped her bow off her shoulder. It was an ordinary hunting bow, which Addison had on her though her quiver was left in her room. She showed Einan the bow, hesitating momentarily before offering to let him hold it.

"Me big friend gave me that bow."
 

Tom

Istari
Einan took the bow admiringly. Though plain, he could see the care that had gone into the shaping of the limbs. "This is well-made, and with as much with love as with skill."

He handed it back to her, smiling. It reminded him of his own bow, which had been made by his father as a gift for his thirteenth birthday. To hold something crafted by a person one loved felt like being near them.
 

Gryphos

Dark Lord
"That is indeed a finely crafted thing," said Bendalitz, nodding at the bow. "I'm more partial to a crossbow, myself. Easier on the muscles." He chuckled. "Also, there's no string people can see you pulling back. No one knows when you're about to shoot."
 

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Addison replied, "On a hunt, best ye shoot from where ye ain't seen at all."

She looked at the crossbow, and noted Bendalitz's choice seating. He means to be seen.

"Oh, I know war ain't the same as hunting. I suppose some of us could be seen to draw attention from…" Addison thought about the one time she saw men killing men, man shooting her. She pictured the bolt tearing through her calf.

"When it comes to that, I'd rather fight 'em with me axe." She stabbed a forkful of eggs.
 

Nimue

Dark Lord
Farrun woke in the blue-grey dawn, rose, and donned his chainmail, surcoat, and the weight of his greatsword. He came down past the empty bar and a sleepy-eyed maid cleaning ashes from the fireplace, and slipped out into the town. Fog lingered past the gates. Most windows were shuttered, and doors shut, but he roused the drowsing guard in the town crier's post, and paid for the use of a quill and paper. The message was a terse scrawl--he used few words, but enough to ensure that the Dovecote Inn would be under closer watch from any agent of the Queen that came through it. He folded it, sealed it with an X of common wax, and handed it to the watchman with a smile. With the strokes of the pen he'd left a line of runes, unseen, that would make certain it would find its way into the hands of the Queensguard, and no other.

His spells had all been careful, canny wards, lately. What he wouldn't give to let loose a plain fireball! But he didn't wish for the circumstances that would call for it.

As he made his way back to the inn he smelled the frying meat and baking bread in the kitchen, but instead of heading through the door he made his way to the back of the building, to the narrow dog's yard between the inn and the outer wall, where only a few shuttered windows could watch him. He wanted to hold onto the keen, uncluttered mind that he woke with, before he broke his fast and dove into the business of the day. Farrun breathed in the cool, damp air, and drew his glinting sword.

He made a pattern of blocks, swings, and cuts in the air, measuring out his footwork. A poor exercise compared with a sparring match, but it was the solitude he wanted. Even Thoros was soundly asleep, in a wooded meadow not far from here, where his circling pattern had brought him. It was more to keep his arms fit and his back limber--and to test how well his rib had healed. It didn't take long for Farrun's mind to clear completely of everything but the balance of his sword and the square of his stance; he liked to think himself a simple man. Easily content.

A loud growl from his stomach ended the exercise, but only once his arms and legs were burning pleasantly from the work and weight of his armor. He washed his face and hands in a rain barrel, and went into the common room whistling.

"Morning!" he boomed, glad to see all of them up. "Everyone pass a good night? Any aches and pains you'd like seen to? Keep in mind we've a good long day of riding ahead," he said cheerfully, thudding down into a chair. He caught the serving maid's eye and said, "More of everything, if you could!"

He caught the tail end of the talk--something about hunting and bowcraft. "We'll be hunting for our dinner tonight, on the north road. Can't take every meal out of an inn kitchen, or we'll run out of coin. Mayhap we can make a lesson in druidry out of it, Addison, and you show me how you hunt." She was looking worn this morning, he thought, though he kept it to himself. If she slumped too far, he'd give her some of his own strength. It was always hardest for a new mage to learn their own limits, and keep from burning past them in the throes of enthusiasm.

"Einan, what magic do you have?" he wondered, on a sudden thought, turning towards him and Troia. He must have something in him, for all elves did, though whether it had been taught to him in a human village...
 

Tom

Istari
At Farrun's question, Einan looked up from studying Addison's bow. "Not much," he replied, wondering why the dragonrider was asking. "Just enough to hunt with, and sometimes to start a fire. I'm sure if I were trained, I could do more with it..."

Flicking his eyes down again, he trailed off, doubting that his answer had been satisfactory. He didn't know much about his own magic, and had never truly tested it in earnest. He had no idea what could happen if he did that, and he was himself a little unsettled by his command of magic, however small it might be.

"How much magic do elves usually have?" he asked, glancing back up.
 

Legendary Sidekick

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Addison liked the sound of a druidry lesson.

"Oh, I could use the lesson. Experimenting's fun, but… oh, that order of everything sounds good. I think I could actually eat everything." Addison scraped up what little was left on her plate. "Who'd've thought beastspeaking could be so taxing? I mean, I can run for miles in full gear without breaking a sweat. But after just twirling a few bugs around me fingers, commanding a bird to shit on a man, steering Mount Freckle with me mind… oh, I guess I did overexert meself come to think on it." Addison's lips took the last few morsels from her fork.

She turned to Einan. "So, what kind o' magic do ye do? Would ye be a fire druid or something?"
 

Nimue

Dark Lord
"Then we'll train you!" Farrun said heartily, though inwardly he felt a little more doubtful about it. Why did the gods keep giving him untested druids, and not apprentice wizards or fledgling sorcerers...? He'd be on more solid ground once they had dragonrider magic. If, maybe, but deep down, he believed it would be when. "I don't know how much Iridheen druidry I can teach you, though I had an Iridheen teacher for a while. Not my best area of magery." He scratched the back of his head, remembering certain frustrating moments. "But I can help you test your boundaries. I think you, and Addison too, will find that you are your own best teachers."

"But it will drain you," he replied to Addison's comment. "You must be careful with that, and listen to your weariness. Mages have killed themselves, using power beyond what they should. Once your inner well of magic is gone, you draw upon your life force."

He shook his head, and brightened as the barmaid approached with a hearty breakfast. He took a mouthful of bread and eggs, chewing for a moment--not just because of his hunger. He needed a moment to think of how to reply to Einan, for he could see the young elf's insecurities showing through. "Magic in elves varies as much as it does in men, though the threshold is much higher. All elves have some magic, but some have very little, only enough to sense magic, or make themselves a little quicker. They are well-trained, in their sacred halls, beyond human wizardry. Time will tell what you are capable of." He smiled warmly at Einan, and, spoiling the moment, wolfed down another piece of toast.
 

Legendary Sidekick

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Addison followed Farrun's lead and made short work of a slice of toast. Crumbs sprayed as she spoke, "I been thinkum bout that." She swallowed before going on, "I wore meself out, but not to the point o' killing meself. I can't help but wonder how many years I've been using small amounts o' magic. Ain't no question now, me shockers're charged by me own hand. And beasts I shoot… I always think, Relax, bucko. No predators here, just a pine-scented pristine—and I let loose me arrow, and the buck, he don't know what hit him!"

She took a bite of what she guessed was a bacon-wrapped boar shin.

"I never thought it beastspeaking. More like when I tell me arrow to hit its mark though I know me words won't affect it. Well if me words kept bucks from running off, I suppose it ain't sporting."
 

Tom

Istari
"Thank you," Einan told Farrun, smiling at the dragonrider. "It would be interesting to learn more about my magic, and to even be able to work more of it."

His stomach growled again, so he then focused on his own meal. As he ate, he pondered the information Farrun had given about elven magic. Why did elves have a greater command of it than men? What was so different about the two races that affected their magic?--and did that difference affect the mind as well? He traced one finger along a knot in the tabletop, telling himself in vain that he was simply concentrating--not avoiding the gazes of the others around the table.

--

Troia finally awoke, pulled out of sleep by a sharp bark and a cold nose nuzzling her face. She dragged herself out of bed, blinking the bleariness out of her eyes. Dammit. I slept late again; I'll bet the others are all waiting for me. Why can't I be instantly awake at the crack of dawn like Einan?

After splashing her face with cold water in an attempt to wake herself up a bit more, she stumbled downstairs. Ari bounded after her, tail wagging--he was ready and eager to face a new day, even if she wasn't.

Down in the taproom, Troia quickly spotted her companions, and groaned to herself when she saw that they were all there but her. She wended her way between tables, dodging a barmaid hefting a tray of breakfast, and collapsed on the bench beside Einan.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said, raising an eyebrow at the crow's nest of hair she hadn't bothered to rip through.

"Mmmm." She rested her head on one hand and rubbed her face. "Morning to you too."
 

Legendary Sidekick

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Addison watched Troia approach the table. She felt less embarrassed about her own appearance now that she wasn't the only girl having a bad hair day.

"Morning, Princess."

Addison had a comment in her head—something to the effect of you look like I feel—but she didn't want to expend the effort of attempting to sound witty. She picked up a piece of bread and just said whatever was on her mind.

"Food."

Addison felt so @#$%ing stupid, she stuffed the bread into her mouth so she wouldn't say anything else.
 

Tom

Istari
"Food," Troia said, echoing Addison. Her hollow stomach rumbled, and she reached for a slice of bread.

Seeing Troia's arrival, a barmaid approached their table. "Can I get you anything, miss?"

"Yes," Troia replied, a little too fervently. She cleared her throat and went on, trying her best to act restrained despite the ravenous hunger gnawing at her gut. "I'll have eggs, and...sausage if you have it. Can you also get some meat for my dog? Not sausage, though--the spices would turn his stomach. Just plain beef is good."

"Of course," the barmaid said, though she looked a little daunted as she eyed Ari. She was probably imagining just how much meat a dog his size would eat.
 
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