Elkandar looks a little surprised, and rubs the cuts on his arms.
It-It's okay... I don't blame you for avoiding me...
His eyes stay trained to hers, the entire time.
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Elkandar looks a little surprised, and rubs the cuts on his arms.
It-It's okay... I don't blame you for avoiding me...
His eyes stay trained to hers, the entire time.
Tyalla, who entirely misses the part where he didn't say it wasn't her fault that he was taken prisoner in the underdark, is immensely relieved.
Still, she approaches him almost tentatively, as though afraid he's about to snap at her, and her eyes are drawn to his cuts. "I- I can heal those, Elkie. If you want."
He blinks twice, ad holds his elbows. Is it cold in here?
Well... um... can you? You've already used a bunch of magic on my hand.
He holds up his greenish hand and smiles tentatively at her. Remember?
"Of course I could. It's my job to keep you safe, remember? Though I'm not doing very well at that."
She hesitates a moment longer before reaching out to take his hand.
Pleasedon'tpullaway...
"But not here. The forest, maybe?"
Congratulations Tyalla, for finding the one thing that can make this even more awkward: moving it somewhere isolated.
Actually, he does the opposite of pulling away. Seeing as she's so uncomfortable, he puts his hand on hers. That would be great. And you're doing fine. Listen to me. It is not your fault I was captured.
Oh. Well that changes things. That's actually encouraging, and prods the faintest hints of a smile onto her face.
"But- I thought- nevermind what I thought. Why were you down there then?"
Elkandar laughs softly. That's just it. I have no idea. They just- dragged me offf, when I was tryinng to follow y- er, everyone else.
He shakes his head. At least I got to meet my parents.
It bodes well that he's laughing again. She'd been terrified he'd be scarred for life. In... more ways than the external scars he probably will have. Those wounds had looked nasty.
Right. Forest.
Since he still has her hand, she'll lead him downstairs.
As she does so, Tyalla conjures up the mental image of how he'd looked when she'd found him. "Your own parents did that to you?"
Elkandar pads down after her. Wonder why he has no shoes on?
Nah... just mom. Apparently I take after Father. He sighs. Meeting him was nice.
Tyalla shudders, very, very glad she isn't a drow.
Still, Tyalla's of the firm belief that there's something good to be said of every species. And seeing as the person she's towing is not only a drow, but also the sweetest being she's ever met, there race can't possibly be that terrible. Despite the... odd... things she'd seen down there.
Best not tell Elkandar about that.
"Regardless, you'd better stick top-side." She never wanted to set foot in that dreary place again. She still apparently has some sort of idea that he meant to be down there, but she would brave the Underdark all over again if it meant his safety.
Still holding onto him, she tows him right out of the inn, and into the field outside the SG, headed towards the forest. ((Care to post first?))
((In Outside?))
The door swings open, and a peculiar stranger walks in, garbed from head to toe in the dark, blood-stained uniform of a plague doctor. He wordlessly passes a note to the bartender, if he's available, with his order written in an unknown brownish fluid.
Appropriate cutlery meaning something you could use to cut the tough steak into pieces small enough to fit under that weird mask.Quote:
Originally Posted by Doctor's Note
That incredibly loud screeching sound was the sound of Romeo backing his chair up as hard as he could. Why? Well Romeo is from a kingdom similar in culture to Italy, so he knows exactly what that costume means and he is very freaked out. The only thought going through his mind is really, WHY IS HE IN UNIFORM IN A RESTAURANT? HE COULD KILL EVERYONE! AAAH!
The halfling druid isn't so easily frightened.
Hello! May I ask what's under your mask?
The doctor takes out a new scrap of paper, his gloved hands quickly scribbling away at it with a pen, before handing the paper off to the druid.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Doctor's Note
The halfling nods seriously.
Got a voice?
The mystery doctor produces another piece of paper. This one's a little wrinkled, and already has something written on it.
Not much for conversation, is he?Quote:
Originally Posted by Doctor's Note
Why not? He leans on his staff.
The scarlet hummingbird lands on the man's beak and chirps noisily.
Nixa, the drowess, stretches away the dead-time and looks around.
Okay... the guy in the weird outfit is new.
Settling into a chair, she glances quickly at Romeo. Fear? Interesting. Not sure why he's so afraid of this man, so maybe caution would be best.
She rolls her bright red eyes dramatically. "Awfully rude, halfling. I might ask you why you're blind, then." That... is filled with hypocrisy. Still, calling her out on it may be dangerous. Or she may just laugh. Hard to tell with Nixa.
She fixes her eyes now on the doctor. "You aren't likely to get much service here. The bartender and his wife are in hiding, I think." Still, she can be proved wrong if his player decides to godmode Metaclock the golem, who (can probably be) godmodeable for smallish tasks of fixing food and delivering drinks around the bar.
The doctor writes out a new note, seeing as his previously scrawled two aren't going to be of any use here.
The plague doctor very politely avoids mentioning how terrible it must be for business if all your staff is more or less cowering in a corner, and how much harder it is to cower without a decent pile of money to grease palms and cover one's tracks. Instead he starts working on a new note, before the two can reply to his last one.Quote:
Originally Posted by Doctor's Note
Quote:
Originally Posted by Doctor's Note
Reverend McLohan walks over to Nixa, a cheerful smile on his face. Apparently she knows something about the couple he is searching for, something that has so far proved fruitless. He extends his hand in greeting to her, nodding at the plague doctor as he passes.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Reverend Gavin McLohan, and I'm afraid I have a bad habit of eavesdropping. Probably from one too many confessions." He chuckles. "Regardless, I was wondering if you knew the whereabouts of one Marty, and his fiance T'rissylene? I have corresponded with the latter, and I was told to come here. They are in need of a priest, you see." Although aside from the priestly garb, McLohan doesn't look much like a man of the cloth. With his tanned skin and lean muscles, he seems more like an aged cowboy or a sailor than a priest. Still, looks are often deceiving, something the Reverend has taken to heart. He certainly doesn't seem perturbed by the drowess or the plague doctor, in any case.
"There are rooms, yes," she says, answering the doctor first. Always answer the more potentially dangerous person first. "But of course, there's no-one to take them from. My advice? Pick a room, stay in it, and if there are still no employees when you're done than it's their own ****ing fault they're practically being robbed, and you can keep your money."
And with that... er, 'friendly' advice, she turns to the reverend. "Yep, I'm sure they do. Little sis' may want to get some of those horrible sins of her chest, I suppose? Or, if you're here to marry them instead, which is disturbingly probable, then they're upstairs preparing to flee like cowards, and goodness knows why. I can hear them through the floorboards, but still can't make heads or tails of their plans." But that's mostly for lack of attention. She can hear most things with those drow/draconic senses, but finds it more annoying than useful, and ignores most of the input.
The Reverend nods his head in affirmation. "They asked me to marry them, yes. If they are upstairs, I suppose I shall just wait for them to come down. Undoubtedly they are expecting me to be here at some point." His forehead wrinkles in thought. Admittedly, he has heard some unsavory reports about the Drow, but has so far had no personal experience to back them up. In any case, Nixa doesn't seem to be evil, just refreshingly blunt.
"So you're T'rissylene's sister? If it would not be rude of me to ask, is she on the run from something? What exactly are they fleeing from?" McLohan doesn't actually know anything about the couple, simply giving them the benefit of the doubt, but learning more is always a good thing.
The doctor picks himself up out of his seat, nods, and heads upstairs. T'rissylene and Marty may hear a soft knock at their door, three taps against the frame in quick succession, assuming they're not blasting really loud techno music or something in there. Meanwhile, the plague doctor waits, writing out yet another note on a small scrap of paper.
No, Nixa doesn't side with 'good', or 'evil'. Just chaos, fun and flame.
"I don't know much. I have too many siblings to keep track of them all. Didn't even know Trissy was my blood until a few days ago. Nevertheless, my keen dragon eyes didn't miss her dead body being lugged in by a little brother right under my nose, dumped here and left for others to raise. I watched. It was over-dramatic."
Nixa grins at McLohan. "Assuming you can't make the connection, she was in the Underdark a few days ago, wound up dead, and is now fleeing. My best guess? She murdered some important drow down there, and is being hunted for it. It sounds... rather typical, actually, for someone of my blood." Except the whole running and hiding bit. Most of her siblings, including her, would rather pick up a weapon, and turn to face their attackers in a flurry of scales, blood, and magic.
"So that's their tale, in all it's lack of flourish. You got a tale? Always in the mood for a good one. Perhaps you could answer this, Preacher, why is it you look more suited to farming or mercenary work than praying to whichever diety? You appear more soldier than reverend."
Although he gives no sign of it, the Reverend is somewhat taken aback. She has too many siblings to keep track of? Only having one brother himself, it's almost impossible to imagine what that must be like. The dark elves are strange indeed.
He chuckles as the conversation turns to his past. "Tell me, could I truly serve the path of Goodness if I was weak in body? Those who concentrate on spiritual matters while letting their physical forms deteriorate are simply wasting a great gift.
"But it's true that I wasn't always a Priest. I grew up in the Highlands of Craven, a place of hardship and war. Nothing compared to the Underdark, I'm sure, but enough that everyone was trained for battle at a young age. I was part of the McLohan Clan, the best of the bunch, or the worst depending on how you look at it." The Priest shakes his head at the memory.
"I became a priest after I saw the pointlessness of my Clan's eternal war. Devoting one's life to the good of others is far more valuable than trying to kill them. Of course, I'm more tolerant than most priests because of my own somewhat bloody past." He smiles. "Not a terribly exciting story, but most stories really aren't."
As the masked doctor walks up stairs Romeo notices and walks after him, covering his mouth with his robes. As he reaches the top stairs, Romeo yells, "Mffter! Mffter!" muffled by his robes.
The Doctor may run into Elio standing in front of that door, noticing then staring at the man, first with a look of shock, coming from the same culture as Romeo, followed by suspicion. Before the doctor gets too close he heavily slams his hand on the wall before the door, forming a wall with his body. "May I help you?" he asks rather loudly.
((Singingnoodle said in OOC he would be unavailable for awhile, just so you know, so Marty is sort of deadtimed.))
Well, she only has four drow siblings. Her dragon siblings are the ones that are endless. And with them constantly falling at one another's hands, and rising others to take their place, they change so often she's lost track of them.
Nixa laughs, "I've sat through much more boring a tale."
She stands, slips around behind the bar and looks longingly at the liquor. The first and last time she'd ever tried it had ended with a giant fireball. She couldn't remember the taste, but had seen the effects on all of her siblings and had always wished to try some at some point. Still, she slides past it and pours herself a dismally ordinary glass of water instead. And even that proves difficult for a red dragon to drink. She does not offer the reverend anything, but figures that he either doesn't drink, or frowns upon stealing even a lick of alcohol.
"The path of Goodness. And what, in your eyes, makes a person 'good'? Perhaps 'good' is defending your family in this war you've abandoned. Or 'good' would be to stay around that area and try to ease the suffering of the wounded. So in this instance, does 'good' define the act of marrying a likely evil drow to a half-elf who reeks of paranoia?"
McLohan goes over and leans on the bar. It really wouldn't have bothered him much had Nixa taken some alcohol, being that her sister runs the inn. She's practically entitled to help herself, within reason. Of course, he wouldn't want any himself, because it would be impolite for a non family member to do so.
He strokes his stubbly beard in thought, thinking her her question through before answering. It isn't often that people are so forthright with Priests, and he considers it a nice change from the usual differential respect.
"I think it all depends on how you look at things. Cast in the correct lighting, nearly anything can be considered 'Good' or 'Evil'. All I can do is try my best to take the course that appears to have the most positive inpact on the world at any given time. For instance, would it really be 'good' to defend a clan of rogues, murderers and hooligans against more of the same? And would aiding the wounded so they could go on killing with greater vigor really the best way to benefit the world? Or would leaving them behind and trying to help those who don't bring trouble on themselves be a better course of action?" The Reverend grins ruefully, not even sure if he's actually right about this. If only there was some universal distinction between good and evil, everything would be so much simpler. But there is no such distinction, or at least none that he's found.
"Regardless, right here and now the best thing I can think of doing is to try to bring some joy into the lives of a couple when no one else seems willing to do so. Even 'evil' people still deserve kindness, after all."