Aelistae tucked the loose portions of her long hair behind her ear once more as she waited for Atharam to digest all that she and others had told him. She needn’t have bothered. Linnix suddenly darted forward, wrapped her arms around the drow priestess’ lithe frame, and caused Aelistae’s hair to spring free once more.

"I... I was worried, Sister," she muttered softly, as silvery hair fell amidst the woman’s blonde locks.

“I’m…I’m alright. And I’m glad you are too,” Aelistae replied. Her hands and voice hesitated only for a moment, taken aback by the human’s sudden exuberance. But eventually they settled upon the small of Linnix’s back, and Aelistae returned the affection the woman had shown her.

“A Eilistraee ‘lamshinae dos zuch orn tlu,”* Aelistae added. She pulled back for a moment, but only to reach for a small, wizened, piece of wood and heal the woman who had become as dear to her as her drow sisters in the Promenade.


[OOC: Will use one her wands of clw to keep zappin Linnix and herself to max (or near max) hp. She’ll then move on and extend the courtesy to the others.

*“By Eilistraee’s grace you always will be.”]

Aelistae silently went about her duties as a priestess and a healer, beginning with her comrades, infusing them with the restorative powers of her thin wand. Some required little effort, while those such as Xaris, or Artanis required suitably more of the instruments power. The first wand had been completely drained, and as she approached the armored trio and their steeds. She hushed any dispute with a disarming smile, putting Loriel's old wand to use. By the time all the wounds were healed... she only had a handful of charges left by her count... and she returned to where Elendil stood.. thin piece of life-giving wand in hand, rubbing against fine black skin as she deliberated a choice..

Bart, who had been pretty silent until now, approached, took a deep breath, lay a rugged hand upon Elendil's shoulder, and Aelistaes, and sighed with a smile. It was time he played his roll.

(STOP POST ~Will update as Bart on the morning.)

“Good people from near and far, lay down your verbal arms. As the good Helmite has said, we have won a great victory here this day.. But there is still much to be done, and still more of this compound to explore. We’ve seen little sign of the other sponsors or their parties, much of our resources are expended, and frankly we could all use a good nights rest, but I find that will likely not happen for the next few hours at least.”

Bartholomew placed a rugged palm against his neck and crooked his head, letting out a loud crack of muscle tension above the temporary silence.

“On the morrow I will send word to His and Her Majesty bearing great news. For now though we should secure the compound, fuel up our bodies as we have all undoubtedly pushed them to their limits, and share in this victory as a whole. This site shall be consecrated and returned to Tethyrian control, and I would have everyone here rewarded for their parts be it in my power.. But until the Queen get’s here, I am still just a humble farmer. And no title or position will change the fact that I could not be happier, or prouder of all of you whom I’ve come to consider allies. Companions. Friends.”

~*~*~

That being said, Fate was tended too and Bronwyn was soon visible for all to see. Though tensions were certainly not erased from the scene, it could not be argued that enough bloodshed and angst had been spilled forth this night, and all else could wait. “Aelistae, do take care of your ilk as would be befitting of your people. Others, we can gather what spoils or remnants of war we may then everyone please meet in the main gentry to the south. Secure it for the evening, and we will discuss what we will there.

(For the rest of the night, feel free to get with other Pc’s and talk through pm’ed Msn whatever if there’s simple conversation you want to convey. I want to move things along)

~*~*~

Bartholomew entered the gentry, a disheveled place of trampled wood and hay. Crude weapons lined the walls, and a wooden ladder was the only means to ascend to the second floor where Arrow slits and kill-holes looked down into the room below, and out over the southern courtyard. Heaving a satchel of supplies into the corner of the room, and leading Alice and directing the other horses into the southern courtyard for boarding for the evening, It was a night where exhaustion set in quickly, and other than the posted rounds for guard duty for any lingering forces… Sleep came easy.

~*~*~
A Week Later.
~*~*~

Reinforcements had been coming and going for a week now. Caravans of soldiers and supplies, rations and materials had been streaming into the Stronghold, with masons and tradesmen doing all they could to repair the ramshackle outpost into a defensible structure to serve as the forward warning for goblin activity in the surrounding mountains, or the Amnish countryside which lay just beyond the northern forest. All around spirits’ were high as the Green and Gold Gryphon Standard of Tethyr flapped in the strong eastern morning breeze. Their was a tangible feeling of excitement as the men sang their songs while working, and the women kept them refreshed with drink and the grace of their form.

For the first time in just as many days, the stronghold also finally smelt of fresh bread and burning woods or small forge fires, rather than blood sweat and death, as scores of filth were removed and burned in a massive pyre to the west. A declaration to those who dare poke their noses out of their darkened caves that humankind would not stand for their presence in their lands without a fight.

In the Baily of the Stronghold however was an energy of a different sort. The stone walls had been scrubbed free of the blood, ichor, and decay till they shone in the morning light. A wooden podium and stage had been built in the middle of the bailey; upon which stood Queen-Monarch Zaranda Star Rhindaun, her dozen honor guard, and a full ensemble of musicians.

Before them stood all the adventurers and visitors who had helped claim this foothold in the name of Tethyr, and as the Queen-Monarch looked on, garbed in a elegant dress of mooncloth. The ridiculously expensive material shone a myriad of colors depending on your view of it, and since the material could only be fashioned by the reclamation and purifying of a rare silk spun by Ellestraeen spiders on the night of a full moon, to see so much of it fashioned into a flowing gown on such a figure as the regal Majesty was a wonder in itself, for surely the garment’s worth was on par with an enchanted weapon.

“Good morrow and welcome brave adventurers. It has been a week now since your heroic capture of this site has freed it from enemy occupation, and you have been ever patient as we take steps to prepare this outpost for its new purpose. It might come to a surprise to some that Bartholomew James, a humble farmer from our own fields has traveled so far, grown so much, and enlisted such fine aid as these people here. More surprising still might be that against all odds, and uncertainty, against better trained, better funded, and to some people’s line of thinking just plain ‘better’ folk these people here have achieved what they could not and that my people I tell you is merely a testament to the human will.”

The Queen-Monarch raised a hand towards Bartholomew, beckoning him forward. And with great pride swelling in his chest he approached her, and took a knee.

“Bartholomew James, You have far more winter’s as a farmer and a man of the land than a warrior, but as your kinsmen will agree you have always been a man ‘for’ the land.” Your decision to make a stand against the forces of darkness has inspired many, and not gone unnoticed. As promised, you have more than earned your station, and it is with great honor that I have you kneel as Bartholomew James,; farmer; and rise Lord Bartholomew James of the Northern Outpost 13 of the Tethyrian Empire.
While the name may have left much to be desired, A great cheer went up as James stood a man of station, of standing, though truly he felt no different than he had that morning.

As the cheer from those gathered was hushed by the fair hand of her Majesty, and Bartholomew rose to stand at her side, she beckoned the adventurer’s to stand themselves.

“And now, Lord Bartholomew, I deign to give you your reward, and bid you do the same to those who have put their lives on the line for your dream.”

One of the Honor guard produced a Large Chest, and placed it upon his bent knee before Lord Bartholomew. Raising the gilded Darkwood chest’s lid, Bart was given numerous small labelled pouches, ledgers, and bank notes. Gemstones glittered, and a Blank Royal Seal sat ready to be carved.

“Lord Batholomew, On behalf of the Monarchy, I bestow upon you and your family the reward of 1,000 gold pieces.” And As for the those whose names were signed upon the Ledger… I see that unfortunately only a handful are here with us today. Lord Bartholomew if you would..”

Bart bent low and received a handful of pouches and gemstones in hand. Before descending the podium to walk in front of each and everyone gathered there.

In front of each person he stopped. Addressing them by name, thanking them in full for all they had done, no matter of how little consequence it may have seemed to some people. To the original group; Aelistae, Artanis, Xaris and Linnix he handed a small pouch, labeled with there names on it and 200gold pieces within. As he Passed Talus and Dylan, he placed a hand upon each of their shoulders, and handed them a gemstone, a small bloodstone, common in the mountains surrounding this site. It was not what the other’s had earned, but the Queen Monarch smiled as she realized Bartholomew was paying these heroes out of his own reward.
To Intella, Elendil and Brownyn too he offered a gemstone of similar size and weight. As thanks for their assistance. When he crossed over to Atharam and his party, offering them a gemstone each as well. Atharam tried to refuse the reward, but Bart pressed the gems to his chest and smiled. “If not for the man, then for Helm whose wisdom saw fit to bless us with you and your companions aid.”

As Bartholomew finished his gifting, he explained that he would be calling upon them all in a short while, for he had much to discuss.. But for now at least, they should enjoy themselves, enjoy the freedom they had earned this site, and the protection it would add to many lives.

With that the Band struck up a festive jive, and maidens in gowns and gentlemen in their fineries entered the bailey from all sides, cheering, clapping and dancing as they prepared to usher in their new lord and his band of heroes.

(Gonna allow some discussion / downtime, while I gather lists of alternate Loot and what not, set up the new Thread for the Headquarters’ side of things and then call y’all into session to see where y’all want to take this. Opportunity.)

(PSS: It should be Noted that Fate is nowhere in town. That after being healed he snuck out in the middle of the night, and never returned. He left only a single small satchel next to Bronwyn. inside is a letter and a gold and ruby lined ring bearing the symbol of a black claw the letter reads. "If it were not for you I surely would have died, and though it was the efforts of the strangers who won the day, my mission is a success none-theless. Consider this payment for your kindness. Fate"

(For the sake of clarity, this happened before Bartholopmew ever entered the Keep.)

Elendil looked to the older human, Bartholomew as he spoke. When he finished she stood and moved over to him, at least he of all the others he was only one who had not spoken out against her. As much as she wanted out of this place, she had a duty to carry out. She needed the information that could be gleaned for the Keep so that she could return to the Forest with everything that she could find out about the whole set up and the especially the Drow involvement.

“I am Elendil Ithilmegilwen. I was sent here by the Council of Elders of the Forest of Teythir to verify the rumors of a gathering of Goblins and their ilk in the area. For now I must escort Bronwyn to recover her equipment, but I will return to gather the information I need.”

Elendil took a calming breath, she could almost hear the clamor of the others saying they were not there in the front lines of the fight and they had no rights to anything. When she spoke it was straight forward and matter of fact.

“I would also like to lay a claim for a share of the spoils of Bolikar and the Drow, for Bronwyn and myself. It was Bronwyn’s first fireball fried a large number of Goblins at the gate, keeping them from closing it, and my arrow and her second fireball together knocked Bolikar off the battlements and it was my arrow the pierced the heart of the Drow and took her out of the sky." She sighs and adds, "We may not have been in the front lines, but we were in the battle.”

She nods to him and then turns back to Bronwyn, now visible.

“Let us get Fate inside to rest and then we need to get our things.” Which would mean a sad return to Buttercup. Elendil truly regretted causing the death of the pony, if she had been left back further, without Eledil pulling her toward the gate of the Keep, then Buttercup might still be alive. She owed Bronwyn a pony.

The fire licked slowly at her dark, sable skin. It caressed the soft contours of her flesh like a lover, raged around her head like a fiery halo, but barely seemed able to leave a mark. She was still the frighteningly beautiful and proud drow Aelistae had seen hovering above the keep several hours before. Her frame was ennobled with elegant curves that few surface dwellers would ever think possible in an elf, and her mouth, even in death, was graced with lush, full lips.

As Aelistae looked at her, and stared into the fire, she could not help but see herself.

”Where are you taking me?”

There was no answer. Just the quiet whisper of the wind, the soft kiss of the gauze covering her face, and the insistent tug of the rope binding her wrists.

She was led on until her feet felt numb and she half-thought she was a ghost floating aimlessly through the world. But then the tug on the rope ceased, and the hand on her shoulder told her that she had arrived. The cloth slipped from her eyes, and the drow woman – little more than a girl – was left blinking in the moonlight.

A woman swam into view through the silvery stars that danced before her eyes. As her vision cleared, she found that she recognized that face. She was drow and naked, her white hair hanging well past her hips. She moved closer, and her half-blind eyes saw that every contour of her flesh was covered in evening dew. They sparkled in the moonlight like stars against her skin.

She stared at her for a moment, staring down with eyes that reflected the light like twin crescent moons. Her fingers brushed a hilt of a sword speared into the earth, each digit, it seemed, dancing around the leather-wrapped hilt.

“You have a choice to make my daughter,” she said at last. “Do you return to the world and life that you have lived or re-write your fate and make yourself into something better than you ever were?”

“You would…let me go?” Her voice was hesitant, fearful even, but it caused the wildly beautiful woman before her to pause in thought nonetheless.

“I would. But would you return? Even if I had the power to make everything the way it was, to restore all that it is you have lost, would you go back?”

“Or would you stay with us? Would you dare to dream of a world where you can walk the streets without fearing an assassin’s dagger in your back. A dream where your friends – real friends – want nothing more from you than the pleasure of your company, that your sisters cherish your accomplishments instead of resenting your successes, and your children are not murdered for accidental failings. A dream where your lovers seek you out for who you are, and not your station or your influence. A dream where your goddess asks you to celebrate her with your joy, not your terror. Would you choose that dream?”

“Yes,” she answered fearfully. “But…but I don’t know how.”

“Rise into the Light, Aelistae D’Vrann,” the woman murmured with a smile, “and I will show you.”
“And I have dreamt,” Aelistae spoke before the fire and the slowly burning body of her drow adversary. “I have dear friends who are surfacers. I have a Goddess that loves me. And I have loved…tasted true love….”

Her voice faded into a wistful whisper. Tears hovered in her eyes as she thought back to Nash. Someone who she had dared to love, and who now, it seemed, so desperately needed her help.

“It was the dream that divided us, Khalil,” she continued, summoning the strength to tear herself away from her maudlin thoughts. “I just wish that you had been able to live it too.”


----


[During the week:]

She had not intended to go out for so long. Night had long since fallen, and several times Aelistae could have pursued creatures to help feed the humans working diligently at the Keep. And yet, when she had come across the pair of hares, or the boar or the doe, she felt something stay her hand. Something, at the edge of her psyche, that tugged her onwards.

So she kept on going, until the birdsong lulled, the world was bathed in deep shadow and the moon inched up the night sky.

A sudden roar startled her. It was not from an animal, but the reverberating chorus of a waterfall. And it was beautiful. It shimmered gloriously in the dark like a veil of falling stars, and pooled into a glade afire with moonlight.

Aelistae entered the glade with soft footsteps, not wanting to disturb the perfect serenity that seemed to reign there, and slipped through the spray of the falling water into a large, hidden cavern.

It was empty. There was no game to be had. But as Aelistae ventured through the waterfall once more and turned to head back to the Keep, she wondered if she had not found something far more valuable.


---


[During the Ceremony:]

Aelistae did not often feel nervous. She had been a born and raised a noble in Menzoberranzen, where any sign of such ‘weakness’ would cause for the lash – or worse. But standing in the Bailey of the Keep that day, before Zaranda Star Rhindaun, and all her court, it was hard for Aelistae to contain her nerves.

Part of it was because she felt uncomfortable without her sword. She had had it for so long, and had wielded it in battle for almost as long now, that she felt strangely naked without it. Or more naked than the thin, sleeveless garment she wore allowed her to be. It had been crafted from spidersilk and left so little to the imagination that it was only the silver embroidery upon it that saved her modesty. The bottom half of the dress was cut so daringly that the midnight black of her smooth legs were largely uncovered.

Part of it was because she was in the presence of a Queen. She was so finely dressed that she almost appeared like a Matron Mother or as the Chosen among the Eilistraeyn. And Aelistae was so unsure what the customs were among Humans when addressing their rulers, that she constantly found herself looking towards Linnix or Atharam to ensure she did not offend her in some way.

Most of it, however, was because of Bart. Aelistae knew how much this meant to the simple, honest man and his family. And she could not help but feel nervous as he was summoned and knelt before Queen Zaranda.

Then it came time for rewards and gifts that Bart and Queen bestowed upon those that aided the farmer in his expedition. All accepted their kindnesses with a nod of thanks or a smile, except Aelistae. She laid a tender kiss upon his cheek instead.

“May the Lady watch over you, and…well show them that even a humble man can re-write his fate.”

From a rooftop in the northwest corner of the keep, Talus watched another caravan arrive. He found it was odd that this spot had become his favorite place to pass the day as this was almost exactly where Bolikar had appeared to rally his forces and nearly crushed Atharam's squire. It was also one of the few places inside the walls where a person could be guaranteed some peace and relative quiet, even with the bad memories it conjured up in the warlock. More and more troops had been arriving ever since Bartholomew had sent word to the Tethyrian Queen that the keep had been retaken. Troops and equipment and craftsmen and supplies. The place was getting cramped.

The first night after defeating Bolikar had been so much more pleasant. Sure, there was a great deal of tension between Aelistae and the other elf, Elendil, and it pulled in some of the others. But for Talus, he left the squabbles over shares literally behind him as he spread his bedroll in a corner of the south gentry and fell asleep with a smile on his face; he'd helped his friends today.

He awoke early, that first morning, donned his enchanted monocle and methodically swept the courtyard for anything that emanated signs of magic. He left Bolikar and the Drow's possessions for last. It took several minutes for Talus to work up the nerve to study Bolikar's axe, Skullsplitter, with enough detail to discern its magical properties. It was physical manifestation of the natural desire for power and control taken to extreme and unnatural ends. The warlock wanted to destroy the cruel weapon, he even tried to shatter it as he had done to so many weapons the night before, but while a goblin club was a simple thing to unbind, this axe was held together, in part, by the weave. It was beyond his power.

He hated it, for it was a sign of where unchecked lust for power could lead. He could not destroy it without first seeking some way to enhance his own power. The contradiction left a sour taste in his mouth. Dropping the axe, he stalked off to scour the interior of the keep, hoping that there were a few goblins left that had fled inside instead of out into the night. Goblins he could destroy.

*****

The nomad wanted, needed, to leave. Too many people in too small a space. Give him a simple walking stick, some half-way decent weather, and an unknown road over the bustle going on in the keep. And the Queen was coming, bringing with her an entourage and packing even more bodies into this already too-full keep. He should have left as soon as the first of the garrison had arrived, but Bart wanted everyone to stay until the Queen arrived, "It would be an honor," he had said, and Talus had agreed. He'd taken to sleeping up on the rooftops, where he didn't feel quite so closed in, but the urge to get away from this newest spot of civilization was getting harder to resist. He was glad the queen would be here tomorrow.

*Backpost*

Bartholomew finally let out an exasperated sigh of relief as the clamor of battle ended, then a groan as the clamor was struck anew by different factions seeking some compensation for their part in the downfall of Bolikar and the liberation of this site.

“I am Elendil Ithilmegilwen. I was sent here by the Council of Elders of the Forest of Teythir to verify the rumors of a gathering of Goblins and their ilk in the area. For now I must escort Bronwyn to recover her equipment, but I will return to gather the information I need.”

Elendil took a calming breath, she could almost hear the clamor of the others saying they were not there in the front lines of the fight and they had no rights to anything. When she spoke it was straight forward and matter of fact.

“I would also like to lay a claim for a share of the spoils of Bolikar and the Drow, for Bronwyn and myself. It was Bronwyn’s first fireball fried a large number of Goblins at the gate, keeping them from closing it, and my arrow and her second fireball together knocked Bolikar off the battlements and it was my arrow the pierced the heart of the Drow and took her out of the sky." She sighs and adds, "We may not have been in the front lines, but we were in the battle.”

Bartholomew looked towards Elendil and shook his head, really not sure how to deal with a situation as tentative as this, especially when they all still stood there covered in blood amidst the stench of death and defeat.

“Miss Ithil.. Ith.. Good Miss, forgive me for my humble tongue’s inability to pronounce such a eloquent name, but is now really the time? We are weary and some still wounded. You and your companion are free to take refuge within these sacked walls, for none will deny your aid in the battle. But perhaps the distribution of war spoils might be handled after a rest and chance to bathe?”

Bart let the rhetorical question end there, for he had already smiled, nodded, and made for the keep after directing Aelistae to tend to the fallen drow’s body, and have everyone else meet inside.
~*~*~
The next day…
While word quickly spread like wildfire that Bolikar and his goblin troops had been quelled by a strange and varied group of adventurers, It was not the Queen’s men who arrived first to the Stronghold, but instead a single unburdened elf bearing the tribal markings akin to many of the runners enlisted in the Wealdath elves Service. The young man, certainly a score of summers shy of Elendil in age approached the ranger and addressed her in a formal, military tone.
“Lady Ithilmegilwen, The Council and Treespeaker wish a report on what has transpired.”
The young man stood stoic and unmoving, expecting an answer then and there. Elendil recounted the tale as she saw fit too. (Feel free to Pm me your report DM) The runner did little more than listen until she was finished. He asked no questions, he made no interruptions, merely taking everything said as fact for the time being. When Elendil was finished, he delivered further orders.

“I will deliver your report to the Treespeaker, and return within one week with new standing orders. Please keep an observatory eye on the going’s on here in the meantime. The Council will be pleased with this fortunate turn of events. You were wise to act when you did, and now, because of it, opportunity strikes where once lay only fear ran rampant.” With a hardy handshake that consisted of the elves gripping wrists rather than hands, and the runner crossing his free arm over Elendil in an ark. “The Tree father watch over you.”

With that, he took off for the Forest to the north, much would need to be discussed.

~*~*~*~

Back to the present.
~*~*~*~

(Should handle something for the time being… But Bart will be in a upcoming post about loot and new responsibilities in the next day or so. Just need to head to bed for now lol)

Dylan eased himself down next to Talus quietly, following his gaze out over the land around the keep. He said nothing for a moment as he took in the serenity of the location. The rapier was gone from the bard’s side, left in Linnix’s cart with his armour. Now only his bow rested at his side, with the violin over his shoulder. With great pleasure he had cleaned his sword and put it away with his armour. There would be little need for warring with it in the near and foreseeable future.

“I think I see a thing we have in common, Talus,” Dylan said after a few moments. “Sooner or later, we get a feeling right about here.” He placed a hand over the center of his torso. “-Wait, not quite, maybe lower, here?” The hand quested down to his stomach, his face assuming a comically quizzical look. “That’s lunch. . . Here.” Finally he placed his hand over his heart. “It’s the feeling that tells us that the open road desires our company once again. No doubt I’ll tire of this place soon enough, and my quest shall resume once more, but for now I am content.”

For most of the week Dylan had been performing for the masses coming and going from the keep, hosting the music for dancing each night. When not performing, he made it a point to visit his fellows who had shared in the madness that moved them to storm the keep in the middle of the night so recently.

“Oh, have you heard? A few of the others have started calling us a group. I heard Linnix call us the ‘Lights of Starspire’, can you imagine that? I wonder what they’re planning to do next. I wouldn’t mind joining them if they decided to set off again. How about you?”

“Anyway, I ought to get going, I’ll see you tomorrow at the ceremony.” Dylan departed in search of whatever it is Bards do whenever they’re not busy performing.

-Day of the Ceremony-

Dylan was dressed as best as he could, which amounted to attempts to beat the acquired dirt out of his apparel and washing his hair a second time. It wasn’t every day one came into the presence of the Queen of Tethyr, especially when her presence was in part due to your actions.

When the queen held forth the ledger and Dylan couldn’t help but be curious about the names on that piece of paper. How many more had joined but not finished? It was interesting for him to note that there were only four individuals from the group who were in the original party that set out from Darromar, Aelistae, Linnix, Artanis, and Xaris.

They were showered with praise for their might and bravery, and those of on the ledger received their award promised to them when they signed up. Dylan was startled, though, when Bart stepped up to him and handed him a gem. He sucked in his breath in surprise, and then quickly whisked the gem away without another glance, instead beaming at Bart. “Thank-you,” he said, then cracked a grin, “my lord.” The farmer would have to grow into this new title over the next few weeks.

As Bartholomew finished his gifting, he explained that he would be calling upon them all in a short while, for he had much to discuss. But for now at least, they should enjoy themselves, enjoy the freedom they had earned this site, and the protection it would add to many lives.

With that the Band struck up a festive jive, and maidens in gowns and gentlemen in their fineries entered the bailey from all sides, cheering, clapping and dancing as they prepared to usher in their new lord and his band of heroes.
Dylan leapt up in excitement at the jive. While performing such music was a great passion of his, even the musicians like to have music to dance to. He took up into the dance with gaiety and mirth.

Seeing that Bronwyn is concerned about Fate, Elendil helps Bronwyn get him to the gentry and then leaves the mage with him.

"I will go get our things, that we hid," she tries not to mention Buttercup by name or the reason they had had to hide the things in the first place.

From the moment she left the keep she whistled for Talon. Her heart leaped as a familiar Whoohoooo sounded overhead and Talon circled her head. She gave him the hand signal to scout close and then went to where their things had been stowed. It does not take her long, and soon she is back with her pack on her back plus Talon's considerable bulk as he rode on the special perch she had build for him on her pack. She was also lugging the panniers from Bronwyn's pony.

She set them down next to the tiny human teenager, "If you want I will go bury Buttercup after I have done my investigations."

After Bronwyn's reply she stood slowly, wincing even with the extra care she took. Now was the time to see Bart about being allowed to search for evidence to tie the Drow, the dead Drow, she ammended in her mind, since there was the Eilistraeeyn Drow here. Before going she reached into her quiver a drew out an arrow, a human made arrow, the one that killed Buttercup.

She waited till Bart was away from the others, not sure of how they react to her, especially after the first female called her a thief. Even after Elendil explained who she was and why she was here, it would seem that the young human woman had not shared the information with her compatriots.

Elendil moved over to Bart and nodded deferentially to him using all her training in courtly graces to do so in the proper manner, neither too low, nor too high for the station which was eluded to, as landed man. “Master Bartholomew, I ask permission to pursue the purpose of my mission here; to gather information about the Goblin activity and about the Drow involvement, which was unexpected.”

She waited politely for her answer, pausing to glance at the Drow. Strange as it seemed she might have to resort to speaking with the young woman concerning the Drow that Elendil had killed.

Once Bart replies, Elendil brought the arrow out from behind her back, "This arrow killed Bronwyn's pony, Buttecup. It is not a Goblin, Orc, or Gnoll arrow, but human made. I do not blame the shooter, as we were out in the woods across from the Northern Gate. In the heat of battle one can be injured by friendly fire. Buttercup was a beloved pet of Bronwyn's childhood and her only connection to her family, she took her death very hard. I will not tell her it is not goblin, I don't think it will help anything at this time."

Warm laughter trickled over to where Aelistae was sitting in the courtyard. The festivities had gone on for hours, and only ended in stages when the dancing ceased, the music stopped and the guests drifted away. There were still men and women sharing jokes and casual flirting, but the waitresses that had made the festivities possible lingered at the edges, almost as if they were trying to shoo their troublesome patrons away with a single, stern glance.

Aelistae, for her part, had long since left their company. She sat alone in a darkened corner of the bailey, her fingers tracing an intricate pattern over an even more intricate flute that rested upon her lips. The music that emerged, however, was bittersweet. Long, aching gaps separataed each note, and, when it appeared as if the tone of the tune may change for the better, the sound abruptly ceased.

“Tangis' lil ssinsuural kluthak noamuth xuileb dos…,” Aelistae murmured quietly, reliving for a moment the memories of the one night she had spent with Nash. Her hands picked up a small, silver cross that lay by her side. It belonged to the human, and the smooth, worked metal of it was all she had to remind herself that that one night had not been some blissful dream.

“Oh, that’s right pretty that is.”

Aelistae’s eyes darted upwards. A matronly woman stood before her whom she recognized as Norah - the cook that Bart had taken on among his staff. The rosy tint to her cheeks betrayed the fact that she plunged too deeply into the wine that had been on offer.

“Sorry?” Aelistae replied, after rising to her feet and trying to sway out of the way of the woman.

“That cross, it’s lovely it is. My William gave me something like that back before the War – Gods rest his soul. He was a good lad, William, a bit slow like, but he had a really big…”

“Umm…right,” Aelistae interjected quickly.

“But mark my words, Dearie, the man who gave you that is a keeper. Why I’d march across the Nine Hells if it meant I had just one more chance to see my poor William, and one more chance to relive the time we spent together.”

Aelistae wore a puzzled expression as she excused herself from the inebriated cook’s presence. The more she thought about what she had said, however, the more she realized how right she had been.

----

It was sometime later that Aelistae emerged again into the cool summer night. She was dressed in leathers and a coat of mithril armour, and carried the same bow and sword she had used in journeying to the keep. The only difference to how she had appeared on the road was the silver cross that now hung by a thread around her neck.

Aelistae inched up the battlements of the Keep, fully intending to scale down the walls and slip away under cover of night. But when she had clambered up the walls, she found Linnix, already perched there.

“What are you doing here?” Aelistae managed to say, after overcoming her initial surprise.


[*“Even the music seems empty without you…”]

Linnix sits still for a moment, her eyes distant before noticing she's no longer alone, "Oh, I'm sorry." She says, turning to Aelistae, "I was just lost in thought."

"It is I who should be sorry," the drow woman muttered with an apologetic nod. "I didn't think...well, I didn't think anyone would be out here. And I didn't mean to disturb you."

Aelistae rocked slightly on her heels, not knowing how, or if, she should tell Linnix that she intended to leave.

"Oh, you're not disturbing me." Linnix says warmly, "It wasn't like I was trying to write out a fancy document or something..." but she trails off, looking at Aelistae with concern showing into your eyes, "You sound so formal, is something wrong?"

“No…and yes,” Aelistae admitted with a sigh, before taking a seat by Linnix’s side.

“Foldraevals l'aster zhah medose ulu telanth taga natha ulnar,” she murmured quietly in drow. “And sometimes maybe the lie would be easier to hear?”

The drow priestess shook her head, causing her silvery hair to rustle against the hood of her cloak. “Forgive me. I’m not sure I can express myself properly in this tongue."

[The drow is: 'Sometimes the truth is harder to speak than a lie']

Linnix nods, looking into the distance, "Sometimes the lie is easier to say and hear, but then..." She stops for a moment, opening and closing her mouth several times, struggling with the words, before finally saying, hesitantly, "l'... l'aster neera... medose ulu tesso."

['the... the truth becomes... harder to tell']

Aelistae tilted her head in surprise. It was less in response to the fact that Linnix had spoken drow, than it was because of the wisdom that lay behind those words.

“Well spoken,” she whispered with a smile. “Qilue couldn’t have said better….”

“So then would you hear it? I’m not sure it makes a lot of sense, even to me.”

Linnix smiles, "Well, maybe we can make sense out of it together." She says gently.

“I was going to leave,” Aelistae said simply, gesturing at the clothes and armour she now wore. “I had hoped to slip away at night, and be so far away by dawn that none of you would be able to find me if you came looking for me.”

“But please,” Aelistae added, as she placed her left hand over Linnix’s, “believe me when I say that I wasn’t intending to hurt you, but protect you – all of you. I…I have something to do and…well I can’t ask anyone else to risk their lives.”

"Silly," Linnix says slyly, her eyes twinkling, before grabbing Aelistae in a strong embrace, "I'm coming with you!"

She giggles, "Isn't that what little sisters are for? Tagging along even when uninvited. After all, if it's so important that you need to go, then I should help."

“No, I can’t ask you to risk your life for this,” Aelistae replied quietly, even as she found herself returning Linnix’s warm embrace. “There is no great cause, no great kindness…just a selfish yearning in my heart that I can’t ignore.”

“There’s a man I love, who’s in trouble,” Aelistae explained. “And I mean to find him, and help him. Or die trying.”

"All the more reason for me to help." Linnix says stubbornly, "We're all supposed to follow our hearts sometimes." Linnix bites her lip, "It's because I didn't..."

Linnix shakes her head, "Anyway, mine is alongside you. You say there's no great kindness, but isn't it kindness to try to help another follow their heart?"

Aelistae eased herself free of Linnix’s arms, meeting the blues of the human woman’s eyes with her own violet gaze. “I can’t get rid of you can I? And for that…for that I’m grateful. Dos ph' d'anthe ulu uns'aa Linnix Wolfette ap Bye.”

“I hope the others will have a safer path than ours. Dylan, Talus, little Xaris…all have been good friends. And together, for a time, we achieved the impossible.”

“But now…” Aelistae continued, with a shake of her head, “I just hope we’ll be able to meet again some day.”

[Drow is: You are dear to me Linnix Wolfette ap Bye]

Linnix smiles, "Alright. I'll grab my things, and we'll be off."

((As made over MSN))

Bronwyn
After the fight (back post)

Bronwyn was leaned over Fate as she used the last charge of her belt. to aid in healing him. Then she set to work stripping lengths of he shift for bandages. having nothing else to hand. She heard Elendil as she moved up and asked her how he was.

"Alive, I used all my charges on my belt. Do you have any left on yours?

Elendil shook her head but realizing Bronwyn was not looking at her and adds, "None."

Bronwyn looked up after tying off a rather neatly tied bandage and... her eyes widen in shocked surprise. her face blanches and drops the bandage she had just picked up the bandage she had just picked up.

"Elendil! Drow! Behind you!" she cries out and then throws herself over Fate's body, as she fumbles for one of her wand of magic missile. the former actions make the second one nearly impossible as she is pressing against the wands carried in a sheath at her waist.

"Ohhh" she cries out panicing.

"Help!"

[Quite a big backpost, in response to Bronwyn:]

A sudden shriek interrupted Aelistae’s efforts to activate the thin, magical wands she carried and heal the broken bones and torn flesh of her companions. It was not hard to decipher the words that followed. Aelistae had heard it all before – ‘baby snatcher’, ‘witch’, ‘murderer’ – and when she looked over her shoulder towards the source of that shriek, she was not surprised to find the same words spoken all over again.

“I am drow,” she shouted back towards the young, panicked woman, “but I mean you no harm. I follow the Moon and the Light and if that means nothing to you, let me tend to your companion and prove that I mean no ill will.”

Her wand crumbled to ash in her hands after she healed the last of Xaris’ wounds. But she had another, and she held that aloft as she walked slowly towards the woman and the man she cradled in her arms.

Elendil turns, sword ready heart pounding with a sudden surge of adrenaline, she but drops the tip immediately, It was the same Drow that had confronted her earlier.

"It is ok, Bronwyn, she says soothingly, knowing how easily the small unworldly human was upset. "She is a follower of Eilistraee," she adds, "a Good Goddess."

"Your healing would be appreciated, I am sure Fate," she points to the human that Bronwyn was protecting. "is not yet sufficiently healed." "As for myself, I am not so badly off, but I will accept whatever healing you offer. I used up all my healing in earlier fights with the Goblin's and Gnolls about the Keep, mainly trying to rescue Fate from a cage."

“I am drow,” the dark skinned woman shouted back towards the young, panicked Bronwyn, “but I mean you no harm. I follow the Moon and the Light and if that means nothing to you, let me tend to your companion and prove that I mean no ill will.”
The woman’s and Elendil's words peculated slowly in Bronwyn's mind, heard but understanding came slower as her panicked brain refused to process the information.

"Whaaaat," Bronwyn's asked her voice shiking. Bronwyn was still bent over Fate and her voice was muffled against Fate's chest, eyes still downcast.

Elendil then explains. "She is a follower of Elistrae," she adds, "a Good Goddess." Bronwyn sneaks a quick look up and around her. Elendil looks around, sword drawn but point down. Elendil put it away even as Bronwyn watched with more attention and a little less terror. She has trusted Elendil so far and took some comfort in Elendil’s actions.

The black-skinned woman advanced with a wand held high, Bronwyn had to ask. “Are you sure?” she just had to ask the elven ranger her voice muffle against Fate’s chest .

Bronwyn still was on her knees but not straighten up a bit as the woman approached. and watcher her closely.

Manners were important after such a shaky start. “Please, do what you can. He is sorely injured. My name is Bronwyn, Bronwyn Lynnebrook of Lynnebrook Farm. He is called Fate, no more do I know.”

Bronwyn rocked back on her heels to give Aelistae room to look him over though she still hunkered down alongside Fate. “I used all my charges on my belt of healing.” She was a bit surprised that she was able to get that all out without her voice shaking too badly. The panic she had felt was passing and her heartbeat was slowing form the earlier terror.

This close to the black-skinned woman Bronwyn could see that her features were very much like Elendil’s were. Except for color and Elendil was a bit taller she thought. However the woman was taller than she was. Everyone was taller than she was except halflings and gnome- not that she had ever met a gnome.

It had been a unusual day, in fact the most unusual day in her whole life.