Episode 1: Branded

Kho'nan nodded gently to Izar when he realized that his meats were suddenly as warm as when they had come out of the kitchen. It was a small gesture, but those were often the most important. He felt a tinge of guilt at mentally snapping at her the previous night, but that was quickly overshadowed by the cleric's questions. His words rolled out of his mouth like a distant Tsunami wave.

"Galinndan was clear that he intended to rest here for 'a few days,' as the Princess has just noted. We need to secure the mine first. I agreed to that first, and I don't plan on breakin' that contract because I went and go'myself killed elsewhere."

Kho'nan made a note about Helden's ability to follow the plan. That might be an issue when it came to springing Hagen's beau from the Thranish prison. No doubt he had just been enjoying the merriment of the previous night more than taking in the details.

He finished, wiped his mouth, and stood. "Headin' out to find supplies for brewin'. Might try my hand at a mead if the pickins are slim." That came out as more a mumble than anything else. It was the polite thing to do, but it wasn't the friendliest of invitations for companionship by any means.

"With any luck we will have the rest of this day and the next to ourselves.  Then, I imagine that the most likely course of action would be for us to set up camp with Galinndan's people prior to going to the mines. That might change if we feel that seeing to the mines should take precedence."

Izar drained a mug of cider and hurriedly assembled a sandwich while tucking a few fruits into a satchel. Last night's assent to being documented might not be top of mind for Kho'nan, but Izar was not going to let this chance go, especially not when incarnating the young scholar. Ariza would try not to be too obtrusive, but there would inevitably be questions. Fortunately, most people enjoyed speaking to their various expertise.

With nothing else to discuss, Kho'nan (with Izar in tow should the Changeling decide to follow) headed out into the quaint town to gather herbs, hops, and other items that weren't likely to be very common on the trail.

As for adventuring gear he was set. Thanks to the Silver Flame zealots he even had a single application of weaponized silver should the occasion call for it.

[Assuming Izar is with him] "You pickin up anythin'from the shops?"

"Insect repellent. I always prefer to be the one doing the eating." The sentence itself is innocuous enough, but a slight smirk and the full throated laugh that follows make it a touch lascivious; a far cry from the nervous mien of the scholar.  Within a few strides, Izar changes into a strapping young human with thick black hair and an easy smile.  Mirthful brown eyes complete the look of a young man who was hale, happy, and a pleasure to do business with. Izar had meant to maintain Ariza, but it was force of habit: shopkeepers were always friendlier with good looking, confident buyers.

For a brief moment the features of the shy, straw haired scholar begin to emerge anew but Izar let's it go. Neither a mask nor a persona would dictate the terms of further learning.

"Truth be told, I'm mainly here to see these earliest steps in brewing. I imagine that the choice of ingredient is as important as the process itself."  It isn't quite a question, but it leaves room for him to fill the silence if he so chooses.

In the meantime, Izar pulls out two apples, tossing one to Kho'nan before taking a bite of the other.

Helden nodded to the others as they went on their way, and took his time over breakfast, before looking around for Galinndan.

When he eventually spotted him, he went over.

"Galinndan! just the man i was looking for. Before we embark on these grand adventures, I'm hoping to look into the area. Maps, histories, documents and such. This area, and the area we plan to head to in a few days. Knowledge is power and all that."

"Mud." The single word was accompanied by a sideways glance and bit of a smile underneath thickly bearded lips. "It'll keep the worst of them off an not cost a shillin'. Granted, it can be a bit'messy."

He pointed in the general direction they would be heading when the time came to leave. "Sagebrush, wormwood, mugwort. Burn'em together an' smudge the skin. Or crush the fresh leaves and apply directly. Less dirty. Smells fragrant. The little fuckers hate it." A bigger smile. The Beast was no stranger to the wilds and keeping oneself free from pests and parasites was a necessity.

"Buy your repellant. I'll make some on'the road. We can compare."

When he heard Izar's voice change he nearly turned as though a stranger had approached his flank. This usually ended badly for the stranger. Quickly he realized that the Changeling had simply done what came natural.

"Really should come with a warnin', princess."

At that, he gave a "come and see" nod to the comment about brewing components and moved inside the general store.

Only rich people with more money than sense went out of their way to cover themselves in mud.  They even paid good money for it!  For mud!   Izar rolled their eyes, annoyed at themselves. They knew that this was not the curiosity and open-mindedness of the College of Lore, only everything about being outside of a city was either a chore or weirdly backwards. Why would anyone choose this?  At least using leaves seemed reasonable, and the prospect of comparing a purchased repellent from one that was made on the road was interesting.  


"Comparing their compositions and effectiveness would be a nice project while on the road, especially if it means that in the long run I can better avoid being eaten alive!" Izar mused, entering the store. "Oh, and I do come with a warning: is lazy and may occasionally get up to no good."

Izar gave the shopkeeper a quick wink in case they heard that last sentence before following Kho'nan towards what was ostensibly going to be brewing supplies.

The village of Askelios was a small stop before the Starpeaks mountains and functioned as a rest and resupply for travelers coming from or heading to Thrane. As such, there were few stores, but they were larger and better stocked than a typical village of this size.

As Izar and Kho'nan make their way to a store, they notice a building where a wheel hangs above the entry way, with a large bend in the outer wooden ring, which serves as a sort of sign. As you enter, a man with fading curly hair and strong mutton chops raises a hand from behind the counter "Welcome to the Warped Wheel, travelers. Feel free to peruse, or let me know if I can help ya find anything specific."

Back in the Pig in Mud, Helden locates Galinndan, who sits by the fire, the same he had the night before. "Why yes, of course. Here, let's take a trip back to my home, Hagen was kind enough to lend me his maps of the region to make some copies." the two of you head out, for only a short walk before you arrive at a comfortable home, albeit without much adornment. Inside, some plain furniture and pottery make up much of the main room, with a door on each other wall. He leads you off into the room on the left, wherein a few scrolls sit, with a couple held open on a table by some books, glasses, and other makeshift paperweights. "Feel free to pour over them as much as you like. Were it that we were here longer, I'd commission some more copies to be made for you folk. For now, all I can give you is some time with them, and you may take as much time as you like. Care for any tea? Bread? Milk?" He ensures your comfort before resting in a chair by the table and cracking open a book.

[At the Warped Wheel]

Kho'nan allowed Izar to go in first. The Changeling's new appearance would be a softer introduction before the blue-haired, tattooed dwarf barbarian. It was likely unnecessary. Even in a town as "big" as Askelios, word would have already gotten to every corner of the strange "heroes" who vanquished the werewolf.

With a nod, the dwarf went about his business. He returned to the counter with a two-person tent over his right shoulder, which was much too large or him alone but all they had. Under his left arm was a block and tackle, signal whistle, and a basket with an assortment of dried ingredients and a jar of honey.

"Cannae find the'hops. Would you point me in their direction?" He rumbled softly.

The man looks over your items and nods "Sure. We ran out a couple days ago, but the ranch hand dropped a fresh shipment this morning. They're still in the back. Come along with me." He raises a section of the counter and leads you a short walk into the back room, where numerous pieces of equipment lay in or on boxes or sacks. A couple large canvas bags lay by the exit, tied shut with cord. He cuts one open and grabs a scoop off the wall. Passing a smaller bag off to you, he fills it to your liking and you return to the front counter (may be wise to get some extra feed for your wagon mule). With all of your items present, he looks them over and says "This'll run ya about two gold, two silver."

[OOC: totally down to front the money for more feed for the mule as well. PC sheet was updated yesterday and my money should be squared up]


Kho'nan takes the hops and now had enough base line ingredients for plenty of brewing - beer or mead. He was about to turn back when he remembered they'd also have a mule traveling with them.

"Gonna need some feed fer the'mule before I forget."

Making his way back to Izar he nods. "Find that repellant?"

"Yes. They also had the handful of other items that I needed."  
His arms are full.  Vials of insect repellent salve and cones of insect repellent incense are balanced atop myriad other objects including a bedroll, a tent, a backpack, and a pair of blankets.

"I tend to stay in cities," he quips ruefully before heading to the counter and beaming a warm smile at the shopkeeper.

"The Warped Wheel is an excellent shop! I found everything that I needed and with great ease no less."

Full item list:

After watching the others leave, Veil returns to one of the inn's shadowed walls and resumes its brick wall impression, silently thinking over anything it may need for the journey ahead. Ammunition was fully stocked, equipment oiled and maintained, straps and pouches were secured; it seemed that there was nothing to do but wait for the rest of the party to prepare themselves, or ask something of it.

Sometimes, it was good to be a warforged.

Helden immediately sat down and started pouring over the maps and whatever else was in front of him.

After a few moments, he realized Galinndan had asked him something.

He paused and looked up at him, "Ah, yes please...", before immediately going back to the documents.

He looked over the map looking for landmarks and points of interest, checking paths between the town, mine and their eventual destination, taking most of the morning to focus on it.

[At The Warped Wheel]

"Well I am glad to have such kind customers." the man remarks as he prices out your purchase. A quick exchange of coin and he was waving goodbye. "Travel safe, and please stop by again if you ever need any supplies. It was a pleasure." He says casually as you make your exit.

[At The Pig In Mud]

Veil spends her day in stasis, either in contemplation or preparation, many tavern goers seem to wonder. After a few hours, Izar and Kho'nan return with armfuls of supplies, while not long after, Helden returns alone after having surveyed the maps of the Silverwood.

The next day passes uneventfully, with a light crowd in the evening but no firebrand speeches. Later in the evening, Galinndan arrives to find The Beast. After acquiring a drink, he sits next to the rumbling storm. "My friend, I hope the last days have been good to you. I received the last shipment of supplies by rail today, and spent my day packing them onto a short caravan of wagons. I'll take lead on one, Hagen on another, but admittedly, I've come to request a third coach to drive the final wagon. Have you anyone trained in such skills? There is some space there as well, if you'd like us to bring any extraneous equipment. Furthermore, I plan to depart tomorrow, at daybreak. Would you still plan to accompany us?" Galinndan sips softly on his drink as he speaks, small wisps of steam coming from the warmed ceramic mug.

Kho'nan was enjoying a cup of midday tea when the patrons started finally coming into the Pig in the Mud in force. It was a delightful mixture of chamomile, yarrow, and lavender. It always helped settle his stomach and he kept a handful of the flowers in his kit at all times just in case something didn't agree with him.

~~~ hhhhhhhhwhatssss it like being a prepubescent girl? ~~~

The joke had grown old so long ago. The Symbiont, quite the opposite, never quite got used to the taste of the flowers. It always preferred something stronger, harder, bloodier. Kho'nan found himself smiling. Despite the symbiont's best effort to insult him, at the end of the day it was only ever insulting itself. Perhaps not surprisingly, to this day, no one other than the symbiont had ever commented on Kho'nan's beverage choice. Ever.

As the crowd gathered, the tea was drunk, the fires were lit, and the ales were poured. He welcomed Galinndan with forearm to forearm shake, as was proper.

"Aye, aye. Good rest, good drink, and good food has been had. I cannae complain. Though, I do feel much more of this an' I'll get a taste for it. Get soft. It'll be good to be moving again. It'll be good to find somethin' needin' doin'."

It'll be good to feel self worth again - to prove you are worth the title of Clan Shieldcrusher.

It wasn't the symbiont that time. At that, his other half stayed oddly silent. He broke his reverie and whistled, getting Veil's attention. Waving the warforged over.

"Veil, would you be so inclined to man the third wagon for our trek out on the morrow? Veil here is naturally gifted with such devices - great reflexes."

<Task requested, sanctioned.>

The warforged had taken up position alongside the table again, never seated. <Now with purpose. Driven.>

Its attempt at humour might go unnoticed by those not used to the nuance in its speech, nuance that Kho'nan and the others were slowly getting used to.

Kho'nan was about to get back to business, then stopped and glanced up at the lithe war-machine. "Veil, was that a joke?"

Smirking and shaking his head slightly, he turned back to Galinndan. "Convoy is set then. Daybreak sounds fine."

Galinndan gives veil a look of disbelief before gathering his composure again. "Well that was disturbing. Good show! Glad to have that problem settled then. I'll see you before the light cracks!" He gives a wave of his fingers as he makes his exit. A bit flustered, you can infer, as he left with his drink in hand.

Without much time to think on it, Veil and Kho'nan can overhear Cormac speaking to Helden,"Nana's fallen terribly ill. It's a nasty thing to come down with, poor dear. She won't be able to keep the bar up if I head off with you all now. I also have to resupply, and that involves a bit of travel in Aundair. Normally this'd be Nana's duty, but seeing as she's indisposed, well... I'll catch up afterward. With good luck, and a fast horse, I may even beat you there. Travel safe, Helden." with a pat on the back, Cormac makes their way into the back room to begin preparing meals, leaving you all with your thoughts and a pleasant evening.

Ambient Music:

Daybreak came a little too soon for some, and much too late for others. You met with Galinndan only half an hour ago, Hagen and he assisted you all with loading whatever belongings you wished to keep with their final carriage. With nothing put a warm drink and a couple pastries in you, you all make your way out of Aundair, as the night luster fades into the dawn sky. The first night reminds you why you adventure. The fresh Aundarian air, the calls of predators and prey alike, or the warm puff of the fire, all keep you alive. Settled in to camp for the evening, Galinndan updates you about your situation, showing maps to any who may be interested. When the evening is done, you all set up camp in or about the wagons. Over the next few days, this would become your routine as you head farther and farther from the quaint town you'd only just begun to know.



With Galinndan's constant reminders, you know it was five days into the journey when the first sight of the Starpeaks came into view on the horizon. By the sixth, you were upon them, skirting a road along their northern edge. Its been almost a week, and yet you've managed to travel fairly safely. For a caravan of your size, it would seem bandits and creatures find you equally unappealing. Were it only true for the blood spattered horse carcass you found your self staring at, shortly after lunch. The stench of steaming entrails made it hard to keep your meal. This kill was fresh, and the sounds of heavy, galloping footfalls and a rumbling roar gave you only a minute to think about what kind of beast took this creature's life. A figure bursts forth from the tree line, smaller than expected, and humanoid. The blur of movement holds a glint of a weapon, though they point it back into the forest. Your eyes don't have time to focus before a tree directly in front of the man explodes in a rain of large splinters, a hulking creature tearing it out of the way as it leaps towards the unfamiliar person with another bestial howl.

This monstrosity could easily stand two heads taller than Galinndan, if not for its lumbering hunch. Tufts of tan fur mask this gorilla-beasts rough, callused skin. Mammoth tusks just out from its jaws, coated in fresh blood, and a single eye sits ensconced in the center of a wrinkled face. It's huge arms swing wildly as the man desperately attempts to defend himself.

**IC Closed. Please post your actions in the OOC. Reminder that we are using speed factor initiative, so please roll your initiatives with every action. Love you.

Round 1:

<Arrival, unfriendly. Prioritised defence, elimination assured.>

Responding to Izar's request with a guarantee of the creature's demise, the warforged rolls from the drivers seat of the wagon and dashes to its left as soon as its feet hit the ground, drawing a bead on the monstrosity from underneath the vehicle's frame and loosing a bolt from its integrated weapon. The bolt struck true, lodging itself in the creature's center mass.

Sebastion had led them on a merry chase but he found himself back where he'd started, his horse dead on the road killed in the initial ambush. He caught a glimse of the wagons and people but was to focused on staying alive to really take any of it in as he spun around to face the monstrosity. Using his scimitar for defence he summons a dark shadowy ball of energy in his free hand which he hurled at the monster. The monster brings a hand up to block the bolt, and the magic sears into its arm.

Helden had been matching landmarks to his study of the maps and documents when they came upon the carnage. As the others started moving into action, he brought up his hammer and called out to his god. The hammer flashed and The Beast, Sebastion and Veil, felt a glow of holy energy guiding their strikes.

The thing with snarling monstrosities is that you do not need to know what they are to know that they are dangerous.  Knowing that Veil is likely to reach the creature before any of them, Izar looks at it and says "Purpose abounds!", before moving from the 3rd wagon to the 2nd, focusing on infusing the vocal component of a spell with power. Once in position, they pick out a few notes on the viol, as much for effect as to complete the incantation.

The creature loped toward Sebastion, recoiling under all the aggression from the new fighters. It tore into him with a clawed hand, using the other to tear out the arrow stuck in its side. As the claw digs into Sebastion, he can feel a stinging pain follow the cut, this creature had some kind of toxin in its claws. Galinndan let out a shriek at the first sign of trouble, pulling the wagon to a stop. Helden reigned in his wagon as well, but as a charging predator made its way towards the wagon, it was all he could do to keep the steeds from tearing off into the woods with a third of your cargo. "We have to get out of here!" He desperately cries out.

Kho'nan's eye widened at the movement in the trees. Some splinters hadn't even hit the ground yet before he was off the wagon and moving to intercept the creature assaulting them. The length of chain was pulled from around his neck, already swinging over his head as he roared. Tattoos moved more quickly along his skin as he worked himself into a frenzy. "Weak creature, come and meet your end. Come and see what a true Beast is."

He reeled back and swung hard as his voice began to tone down to an even more guttural, animalistic tone. The heavy metal weight careened off the large beast's hip with a wet snap. The creature buckles with a howl.

Round 2:

The second creature was as unwelcomed as the first; more so even, because it was so close. "Oi! No you don't, you puke-stained carpet!" Izar spat as the monster went to attack, causing it to hesitate for a split second, reeling and bringing a hand to its head; Hopefully that would be enough.  Now, where was I? Oh right,.

"You're too thick for a good insult to be worthwhile." Not the most creative insult, but a reliable focus for the cantrip.

Veil looses another ranged attack at the wounded enemy. The bolt flies true, lodging itself deep between the ribs of the monster's back. It turns, clutching at the shot, and looks Veil in the eyes only momentarily before falling forward, blood pooling from its mouth.

Sebastion gives the dwarf a quick glance, who the hell just spoke then? 'We'll feast on your rotting flesh??'. He takes a step back and flashes a nervous smile "err... Thanks. There is only one more I think." Taking a few glances back to ensure he wasn't going to be eaten by the dwarf Sebastion moves along the side of the wagon towards the sound of combat.

Kho'nan finally allowed his rage to get the best of him as his target died without a proper fight. Two things happened simultaneously: ripples, black as a moonless night swam across his skin while the parts not yet covered grew hard, not unlike a reptilian predator with splotches of thick, tough fur. Beard and hair hardened into leather-like knits. Even his tattoos began to shift, forming designs that looked like interwoven steel. His beast form was overtaken completely by the symbiont inside of him. Covering Kho'nan like a wetsuit of shimmering, wet black and blue hues, two large white eyes appeared on his chest, a maw of infernal white teeth snarled across his belly. Things were moving underneath his skin, begging to come out.

~~~ We will feast on your rotting flesh before the moon lowers, filth ~~~ rasped the mouth at his belly.

The Beast had fully awoken.

He moved quickly to the next target. From his right forearm a chitinous... thing... emerged and hurled itself into the cyclops.

With the blessing cast, Helden's eyes light up again, his prayers and glowing hammer calling into existence a shimmering white long sword above one of the creatures. The weapon slices down at the thing, as Helden himself moves to get behind the creature, lashing out with his warhammer.

"FOR DOL DORN!!!"

The beast swipes aggressively at Veil, its clawed hands seeking to tear the construct apart. Veil deftly evades the clumsy swipes of the monstrous creature, then flips itself over the wagon and darts for the cover of the treeline. Helden pulls back on the reigns as the horses begin to shuffle about. One of them lets out a yelp and Helden attempts to calm them "Woah! Woah!" the horses run at Sebastion, threatening to trample him as they scrape the cart against the large tree nearby. The back wheel of the cart makes a crunching snap as it shatters off the back axle and the whole cart drops back, the rear axle digging deep into the earth. The animals pulls and grow more frightened, only to pull the cart further into the ground.

Round 3:


Veil nods as the great beast falls then moves its attention to the second enemy, placing a bolt into its chest. The creature snarls as the bolt sinks bites into its flesh, a line of red slipping from the wound. Sebastion catches the horse's reins as the frightened beast scrambles to break from the violence. "Woah! Woah!" He yells like he had seen Hagen attempt just a moment before. The animal had no intentions of stopping, and Sebastion found himself struggling to hold the horse steady.

The hulking mass rocks backwards at the dwarf's surprising sturdiness, it's undeniable confusion rippled across its face. The animal takes two swings at Kho'nan, whooping as it does. Looking around after, the creature catches Helden's gaze and turns toward him, moving to push past.

Seeing that the others had things well in hand, Izar went to try and calm the wayward horse, hoping that the preliminary training in animal that had been provided at the College would suffice. The animal fell to their calming words and gentle gestures, relaxing in their hands.

Helden locks eyes with the creature and feels its corrupt mind try to force its way into his. His grip strengthens on his hammer and he roars, breaking the things gaze.
With a thought the glowing longsword swings down, striking into its flesh. The monster lets out a howl and frantically searches for an exit. As it reels from the blow Helden raises his hammer to the sky, and with a flash, a bolt of radiant energy strikes down, searing into the creature from above. The Beast breathed in deeply, reared back, and delivered a staggering blow - more like a punch - with the business end of his Dorn Dergar. His let out a roar as he hit, adding to the force behind it. The crunch of bone and yelps from the creature echo its pain.

The animal tries to run, quickly tearing past Helden and The Beast, though the two wouldn't let it get away so easily. As it slipped between a tree and Helden, the creature crumpled to one knee with a dull thump as Helden obliterated a kneecap. The beast turned to face Helden, arms outstretched for an assault, as the Dorn Dergar whipped around the other side of the tree, catching the trunk in its chain. It collided with the side of the beast's skull, and it toppled over, unmoving on the ground.

Within a few moments, the horses had calmed, and the travelers found themselves in an oddly quiet stretch of Aundairian hills, with an unknown individual and the ruined corpses of two would-be predators.

**IC OPEN. Good job, you all handled that quite well for a deadly encounter.

~~~ Let me feast! ~~~ the symbiont roared. The Beast walked toward the body of the downed creature and kneeled next to it. A sickly tearing, chomping noise followed, even though Beast's face was not near the creature.

The symbiont fed ravenously while the Beast pulled his Khukri from its sheathe on his lower back. Without hesitation, he went to work taking the head from the cyclops. When the chewing and smacking stopped, the symbiont went back inside. Black, inky skin evaporated seemingly into pores. Simultaneously, the hard chitinous skin of Kho'nan's beast form also started to dissipate until the same dwarf the party all knew well was standing before them.

Dorn Dergar around his neck, Cyclops head in his left hand, and Khukri in his right, he mad his way to the first body and repeated his process of taking the head. When he had them both, he made sure the eyes were firmly closed and took some time tying them up and hanging them on the side of the wagon as a deterrent for future encounters.

Finished, he cleaned his blade and moved to Galinndan.

"Ye alright then?"

As Kho'nan made his way to the front of the cart, he found Galinndan sitting perfectly still. His stone cold expression trapped two clean lines down his face. He wipes them when he notices another coming close. "Yes... I'm sorry. To see the horrors of war again..." He drifts off, staring at the bodies. "Once was enough for one lifetime. Let's make our way." He grips the reins tightly, looking over at the man on his left. "What becomes of the traveler? I defer to you, I'm in no state to be making decisions."

Kho'nan shrugged. He was no diplomatic voice of reason. Surely, he was not the leader of the party. After all, his inner demon had just literally come out, shot acidic chitin out of his arms and then ate at the carcass of a cyclops with its belly-mouth.

He stood on the cart to get a look at the others, finding the newcomer. "You handled yerself well and are without a horse. If ye'd like to tag along, that's OK with me. I do not speak for the group."

With that he sat and nodded again at Galinndan, speaking low so only the elf could hear. "Ye should feel no shame or regret. The horrors of war stay with us all in their own way."

Sebastion kept his eyes averted as the dwarf went about his grizzly work and he looked to his 'rescuers' companions to see what their reaction was to it. He wondered what was wrong with the short fellow. He found himself staring at Kho'nan as he was addressed, wondering at what he had just witnessed.

His slightly horrified expression was replaced with a nervous smile. It made sense to travel with these strangers they'd helped him after all, but he would be cautious until he was happy with their intent. "Yes I'm without a horse and it seems these roads are dangerous." Sebastion gives a brief look to the skies in annoyance. "If you've room on your wagons I'd welcome some company for a while."

As he speaks a raven swoops in and lets out a loud a squawk before handing on Sebastions left shoulder it then begins to peck and wrestle with his collar for a moment before giving the dwarf a beady stare. With a sigh of exasperation he glares at the raven "thank you for the warning of the ambush." he says with heavy sarcasm. With an almost dismissive glance the raven takes to the air and disappears amongst the tree.

Sebastian gives Kho'nan an apologetic smile "So, where you headed?"

Despite their every intention, Izar could feel their angry disdain of Galinndan beginning to waver as they watched Kho'nan and the elf exchange words; combat seemed to have shaken the latter in a way that they had not expected.  It begged the question, how could this person think to lead an army?  Was he going to remain in an officer's tent, plotting the demise of countless souls?  With that thought, their heart hardened again Crocodile's tears.

Even with their renewed bitterness towards Galinndan, Izar was mildly amused to hear Kho'nan's renewed claim of not speaking for the group. Having opted to remain the handsome and gregarious, dark haired young man, they were feeling quite... generous. Perhaps one day they would explain to Kho'nan that he donned the mantle of leadership quite readily and in more ways than he realized - so long as it did not lead to more sulking.  For now, it sufficed that the new arrival seemed competent and had kept their wits about them.

"Friend Dwarf certainly speaks for me in this offer!" Called Izar from where they stood. "We are heading deeper into the Silverwood."

Pointing in the general direction that raven left in. "Should we be waiting for your... companion?"

Kho'nan let Izar do the talking. She... well, he currently, was better at it anyway. They did offer to the newcomer not to forget his saddle bags. He briefly thought to ask if they should butcher the horse - it was a lot of red meat for a stew - but ultimately thought better of it. Horses were like big dogs in a lot of ways and that attachment could be very strong indeed.

Leaving Galinndan to his thoughts, he hollered back at Helden. "Fuckin' proper good show, Cleric!" He slammed a meaty fist into his breast three times, then shot a look and a wink at Veil. The Warforged had performed exceptionally, as always.

"There's a fine line between saving my life an'stealin' my thunder, Veil," he jested.

Easily defeating these enemies had clearly brought up his spirits for the time being.

The warforged doesn't respond initially, seemingly focused on retrieving its bolts from the fallen monsters and rather disconcertingly cutting their throats from ear to ear with all the nonchalance and professionalism of an elderly fishwife gutting the day's catch. Its gruesome work done, a reply forms in the Beast's head, the tone inexplicably jovial.
<Thunder for the Beast; in silence, lightning. Nature's fury, wrought in tandem.>

Veil attempts to calm the horses and checks the status of the wagon, unconcerned with the newcomer for now.

Helden’s eyes swept the area, seeking other enemies. When all had seemed quiet, he had dropped to his knee and rested his hammer on the falling enemy.
He spoke his prayer of thanks to his god, and stood as Kho’nan started ripping heads off. At kho’nan’s words he nodded, “you too! Dol Dorn is pleased with our offerings this day! “

Izar eyes one of the carts grimly.  Whether or not they should wait for their new acquaintance's companion hmm, we never got his name.   I wonder how long we can go without making proper introductions?  I have to check my notes to see what the current record is. was moot for the moment.  

It would take some doing, but it should be possible to get the axle out of the earth.  The back wheel however was a total loss.  Having let annoyance with Galinndan and this entire venture get in the way of taking stock of what was being packed into the carts, Izar did not know if there were any spare wheels.   It stood to reason that there would be.  You would have to be a right fool to not...   Izar paused mid thought, bitterly.  Few if any had not been made a fool of by fortune at some point.  The group's recent adventure with a Therianthrope was an excellent example. Izar's own less recent folly was another.  To think that they had once been foolish enough to aspire to something more than hard living and keeping people at arm's length.   That worked out just great, didn't it?

With a sigh, they started walking towards Galinndan, deliberately making enough noise for the elf to hear their approach and steady himself if need be.

"Do you have spare wheels in your supplies?  As amusing as it might be to see Kho'nan and Helden take turns holding the axel and jogging along side the cart, we'd probably be better served by an actual wheel.  And if you don't... Well I've already proposed one solution!" Izar winked at Galinndan and smiled encouragingly; it was worth being on the Elf's good side, whether or not Izar cared for his ambitions.

Hoping that that nudge would be enough to see the cart fixed and their journey begun anew, Izar returned to their seat on the third cart.  There was much to document about the trip so far, and it was well past time for a bite to eat.

As the party had not started moving yet, Kho'nan hopped off the wagon and moved back to where Izar was milling around.

"I'd be wasted on cross-country," he replied as Izar made their joke. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very deadly over short distances."

Kho'nan gestured to the dead Cyclops as proof. It had just occurred to him as he did so that, even though he took both heads, he had not checked over the beasts for any valuables they may be carrying. As an afterthought, Kho'nan moved to check their bodies for anything of value.

"Y'know, bet these lads would ate anythin' without takin off necklaces or jewelry first. Might be worth a look inside." Kho'nan pointed to Veil. "Fancy knife work would make easy work of a quick belly-check."

"There is no need to wait." he waves a hand vaguely in the direction the raven flew.

Sebastion wanders over to his dead horse and retrieves a few things from his saddle bags before looking for a comfortable spot on one the wagons. While he listens to the conversation he appears uninterested until he finds a comfortable spot. He clears his throat "Do you mind if I sit here? Oh and more importantly my name is Sebastion."

Izar smirks at Kho'nan when he retorts, and makes a mental note to get what information they can about cyclopean anatomy since the corpses were about to be laid open.  It was distasteful work, but the pursuit of knowledge was not always a tidy affair.

Looking at Sebastion, Izar smirks again.
"I'm of the belief that if you can fit you can sit, but this convoy is being led by Galinndan, so if you are looking for permission, I suppose that you can get his, hehehe.  Sebastion, that's Kho'nan, Helden, and Veil." Izar indicates each in turn before turning their attention back to the notes that they are taking.  They continue speaking without looking up again. "Take a minute to parse what you hear from Veil.  It makes more sense than you think.  And, lest you think me unbearably coy, my name is Izar.  Well met, all things considered."

Helden moving over to inspect the cart with Izar, nodded at Sebastian. ""Well met Sebastian. What brings you out these ways?"

IC Excerpt of what Izar is writing aka Entry 4 - Get in loser, we're going to Galinndan's camp

Hiya you lot,
As expected, not even a full week on the road and we were attacked.  This type of thing simply does not happen in a city! I know,  I know… that's why there's money to be made on the road.

Incredibly, the inconvenience has come with a potential addition to our motley crew. We’ll likely not be moving for a few minutes, so I thought that I would get down some initial thoughts on how to tell this story when I inevitably find myself without a coin to my name and needing to perform for room and board.  As usual, quotation marks for speech and curly brackets are for recitation/practice cues.  I even changed the color between my text and my letter because you know who complained that it was confusing! How's that for "doesn't take feedback well"!  Without further ado:

{Start strong here; going for a dramatic open to draw the room’s attention}
“The smell of death is unmistakable.” {solemn pause here. Try for a full rest, shorten if you might lose the room}

“That morning in the Silverwood, death hung heavy in the air, and we waited in the wings for the inevitable curtain call to violence.”  

I hope that you like heavy handed theater references, because apparently, I am full of them right now. Also, I know that you thought “Izi’s full of something alright” immediately after reading that last sentence… please note that I hate you both in equal measure.

“A roar announces the first player. A Tiefling enters stage right*, weapon and courage firmly in hand.  He looks grimly determined to survive.” {You will have to observe Sebastion to pick out a few mannerisms to help with audience visualisation.  *Adjust the choice of stage entry based on where you want to direct energy… people might not notice, but it a part of the craft to try and think about the interaction of the tale with the space}  

“Enter the antagonists. A pair of Cyclopean creatures monstrosities with goring tusks and gore covered claws.”   {Look to project size and menace with both body and voice}  

What kind of creature were they exactly? Great question. I am too stupid to know I have not yet figured out what the hell those damn things were, but I will!

“The stage is set. Cue our heros.” {Half rest vs quarter rest? - Either way, be sober and dramatic}

“Dol Dorn's blessing lent them righteous might as his cleric's hammer rose to the heavens.”  {Strong stance here, arm straight into the air - Magical flare of illumination perhaps?}
“Helden's hammer whistles through the air.  His strength is such that in the moment before the punishing blow, you can almost believe the hammer to be weightless.” {Deliver with mix of awe and bravado - half rest, full rest if you can get away with it - read the room}

“Right before the hammer makes contact, a bolt strikes the creature in its chest, and the mighty hammer only drives it deeper still."{Affrettando for momentum and a sense of frenetic energy.  Remain taut for quarter rest. Immediately soften posture and speak with intention, but pianissimo}

“There are no obstacles, only opportunities. Like a river, Veil is both still and flowing; the promise of a swift end to all that underestimate its speed.” {Full rest. Be still, do not intone menace. Let the words and the silence do the work}

That’s the first half: one as of yet unidentified monster down, one as of yet unidentified monster to go!  Not to leave you in suspense, but as you have both reminded me countless times, I need to try to "play nice with others", and as you know, I am not always very friendly when I am in writing mode.

Hopefully our next stop will be more intentional, and then I can ignore the others for a good long time and focus on finishing this letter.

Kho'nan and Veil spend some time looking over the creatures' bodies, while Sebastian says his goodbyes to his horse and prepares to join the caravan. Taking whatever parts Veil deemed useful, the caravan began anew bolstered with another capable traveler. Though which side their new companion would fall to still remained a mystery.

Each night, the caravan pulls into a clearing, forming a circle around a rough fire. Those of you who traveled with Cormac are reminded of the delicacies that would come from the large pot he would hang over the fire, and the warm breakfasts he would roast on the morning's embers.

The time you spend traveling with your new companions is pleasant, and it's not long before the lowlands give way to foothills, the foothills to forest.

Within two weeks time, the Silverwood casts its first, checkered shadow over the three wagons. Your destination draws nearer. The denser forest stays the calm nights of the prior journey. Many creatures move under cover of night, and many more would have taken a more careless party. Through four tough nights, the party made their way into the densest part of the forest, occasionally stopping for a map check from Galinndan or Hagen. At the afternoon of the fifth day, just before dinner, the party arrives at a small, open military encampment. A rough glance would estimate 100 personal tents and a few handfuls of larger pavilions. Thankfully, there was an abundant supply of wood, and it would appear the soldiers had already begun to erect a wooden wall.

Galinndan is directed to a location to settle in and you all pull the wagons together. With eager help from the footmen of the camp, the supplies are unloaded in a matter of minutes. Within an hour, a large pavilion is erected and the goods from Galinndan and Hagen are placed inside. A smaller tent is put together to house those of you who did not bring your own equipment. As the sun begins to set, the camp begins to fill with the sent of roasting meats, and boisterous chatter fills the air. You all enjoy a welcome night of rest, with the promise of more to come in the morning.

+++
You rise the next morning shortly after sunrise, weary from the road, but practiced adventurers. Galinndan is warming his hands at a small fire outside your tents as you rise. "Ah! Finally. I hope you all found a relaxing evening. I know many of you are eager to explore the camp and surrounding area, but I have been requested for a meeting, and I'd like to take Kho'nan, Veil, and Helden. I understand the two of you have accompanied Kho'nan for some time now, and have also seen war? You'd be valued voices at the meeting." He looks to the three of you expectantly.

The encampment, with its tents and pavilions and people milling about, brought a contented smile to Izar's face, which they quickly replace with a more distant and appraising look.  They had not expected to be so happy arrive here, but perhaps they should have known.  It was almost always the case after days of travel away from urban settings: they were starved for the incessant hum of multitudes of people and apparently even a small military camp would do in a pinch. They set up their tent and soon enough is asleep, with an open book teetering precariously in one hand.  For the first time since they left Cormac's they are finally able to rest deeply, away from the oppressive silence of the road.  When they are inevitably drawn out of their nap and of their tent by the promise of food, Izar emerges a high spirited elven bard and works his way through the camp eating, merry making, and eating.  He might not be happy about why they were here,  but he was too pragmatic not to play nice.

The next morning they are a version of the mousy scholar; a lanky, golden eyed young woman with a riot of browns curls. She is scanning the camp for signs of a morning repast when Galinndan speaks of a meeting. With her back to him she looks pointedly at the three that he named, silently willing them to not commit the group to anything too reckless.

Veil's shadowed face shows no emotion as it looks over the campsite, taking in the site before responding positively to Galinndan's appeal.
<Presence requested, thus granted. Our loyalties communal.>

Helden had relished the fight and although relaxing is a good way to stay ready, it still left him bored.

***

Waking up that morning they had been called into a meeting.

"Of course! Hopefully this will lead to some action! haha! Onward!"

Kho'nan's voice rolls from his throat like a boulder, "Seems we're all in agreement. Let's see what this camp has to offer."

A wide smile draws across Galinndan's face as the three of you make your way with him to a central pavillion. Inside, a large table sits of which seven chairs a placed, five of them occupied. A dwarf speaks gruffly through a large beard, the whiskers barely contained in gold jewelry and beads. "Galinndan, you've made it. Looks like you brought a couple more than we were expecting. Kahle, grab a couple more chairs for our guests, and I apologize that we can't provide you a direct seat at the table. Galinndan, I trust you've chosen allies loyal to the cause." As he speaks, a half-orc rises from his seat, pins shut a leather overcoat, and heads into a small annex. A moment later he returns with two more chairs and sets them out for the three of you.

Galinndan has already found his seat by the time there is enough chairs to go around, leaving the three of you to chose who sits at the table proper. Once you've all found your seats, a human woman begins to speak. The shine of her armor belies some measure of authority, and her tone follows suit. "Alright, we've wasted enough time, let's begin. Thaliost measures roughly twenty-five thousand in number, though we estimate the Knights and Thranish loyalists measure on the order of ten thousand. Our force is a thousand, with about six hundred ready to march without notice. This is not a war we win by marching through the front gate. This will take time and effort, and keeping a low profile. We have many options to take a war of attrition, but they will all revolve around strengthening ourselves, sowing unrest among the population, or weakening the enemy. I've asked three other members of the council to spearhead one of these paths. Hagen, let's start with you."

A familiar face pulls himself up from his seat, with a thick vellum map of the surrounding forest. "Thank you Belina. To begin, I'm talking about strengthening our numbers. I currently see two ways to follow this path. First, we make access to the numerous silver lodes my family has mapped  throughout the Silverwood." He unfurls a linen overlay, which he places over the map, marking many individual lodes of silver. "These will allow us a steady income, as well as defense against the lycanthropes so common in this region. This income may be used to trade for materials we may use to manufacture weapons and siege equipment to support our cause. This does mean, however, that we devote some of our meager numbers to manning the mines. The second option is to recruit from the population. Many residents of Thaliost are Aundair natives and are loyal to our cause. We could easily make recruits of many able bodied loyalists, though we run the risk of making ourselves known. Were we to follow this route, we would need to be quite careful with who we select to carry our word to the people of Thaliost. Thank you." Hagen takes his map and overlay off the table before sitting down.

Belina gives a nod, before turning to the half-orc. "Kahle." The man stands tall before the table, brushing a coiled dreadlock behind his ear and buttoning his coat again. "Thanks, Belina. On the order of weakening the opponent, I've got two options, interfering with supply lines, and destruction of the city's defenses. Supply lines are short and sweet, scout for wagons with Thranish colors, and take them out quietly. We can pose as bandits on major supply roads and strike quickly, sending a small force to terrorize a region before bringing the extra supplies back to the fort. Destroying defenses would take a touch more finesse, however. Much of the defenses are manned by the Knight garrison, which is quite exclusive and well guarded. If we managed to succeed, we'd be making ourselves known immediately, as well as prompting the Knights to begin repairs. I vote we leave that off the table until we're in a better position to make an offensive. That's all from me Bel." He gives a short bow before taking a seat.

Belina turns to a halfling man. "Callan?" He grunts in surprise, crumbs falling from his shirt. "Right. The simplest way to make any man doubt their protector is by showing them reason to doubt. Successful, blatant displays of ineptitude will show the people that those who hold them to the law are less powerful than they may imagine. By giving them reasons to stress, the people grow angry, and indeed riots are often boiling through the city's streets. Reminding the people a bit too often of their heritage is sure to polarize the population, and a big enough riot may cause decent damage to the morale of the people. Lastly, there is a prison, which the Knights of Thrane have been holding political dissidents captive for some time. Freeing these prisoners would reignite much of the Aundair loyalist sentiment the Archbishop seeks to erase. There are those among us with the abilities to stage a successful prison break, both from the inside and out. Starting with a staged riot and planting a mole in the prison may allow an easy way to free some prominent figures. But, its all up to the rest of you." Callan gestures to Belina, who nods, looking to the dwarf. "Taklinn, how should we proceed?" The dwarf strokes his beard once before speaking, "Alright, those three who have already spoken will sit out while the rest of us begin discussing our next plan of action. You three newcomers, you may introduce yourselves, as you are allowed a vote at the table. Galinndan assured me that each of you are accomplished military veterans, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts." The six members at the table all turn to face the three of you, awaiting your words.

Helden stands. Nods to those seated around the table.

"Helden. War cleric of Dol Dor. I like the first couple of ideas. Get some people recruiting and training, while we start hitting the mines and securing those. Use some of the new recruits to man them as we move and secure others. Those who show promise can help secure other mines, with the more experienced ones. This will build their experience. Those who have little to no will to fight but still want to help the cause can work the mines."

He pauses, thinking for a moment.

"The prison is another idea. Free them and they will destabilize and potentially swell your numbers too. Definitely higher on the difficulty level i think..."

He nods towards the table and takes a seat.

Kho'nan had remained standing rather than taking a seat. He had spent the last few days replaying the fight they had had on the road when they met Sebastian. It was good to reflect, to remember, and to use those lessons in the future.

Here and now, he was firmly locked into the situation. The larger strategic movements did not tickle his fancy nearly as much as things he knew and things he could address in the here and now.

When Helden finished speaking he took a step forward and nodded. The tattoos on the sides of his shaved skull gently flowed like waves on a less-than-turbulent sea.

"Kho'nan of the Shieldcrushers. Berserker. Highest priority in my eyes is securing assets here, first and foremost - that means the mines. We've a mind to start clearin' them already; that's where we'll start. As for workin' them, I could send word privately to me cousins in the Mror Holds. Hill Dwarves who know a mine better than many o'ye know your pecker.. err... and lady parts or what have ye," he says with a nod toward the armored woman in the group.

"They'd be more efficient, keep to themselves, and provide a workforce and security. Granted, they won't work for free. Kinship only goes so far. As for everythin' else, disruptin' supply lines sounds fine. Prison idea is also priority."

With that, he steps back and waits for a response.

The table deliberates for some time, Taklinn, Hagen, Helden, and Kho'nan are all in agreement that the first step is the mines, while Galinndan votes to destabilize Thaliost, Callan and Kahle vote for the prison break, while Veil and Belina abstain. Once Taklinn calls for a final vote, the table respectfully agrees to move forward with the mines, and Taklinn makes a closing statement. "By a four to three vote, the table majority has decided to pursue the reclamation of the mines. Hagen will be tantamount to this success, as such I am placing him in command of the operation. A Dwarfish miner force would be respectable, and our coffers could support their wages while we wait for our income to begin to flow. Kho'nan, I trust you can arrange the calls? Hagen, please work with Belina and Kahle on directing the troops. In the mean time, Callan and Galinndan please resume your normal duties. Veterans, you are at Hagen's request. That will adjourn this meeting, unless there is any other business." The table rises and all members begin to chatter amongst themselves before making their exit. If you have anything left to say, there are a few moments the small crowd remains gathered in which you may make requests. Hagen flags the three of you down for a short word.

"Thanks for the support. I'll speak with Belina on where to put our forces, and I'll let you know where I need you in the morning. I haven't forgotten our deal. 250 for clearing a mine, and a lode to yourself if you free my man. The guys from Mror are cut from a different cloth. Bring as many as you can, we'll pay them. Just, leave the part about a revolution to the people we trust."

Kho'nan nodded his head, blue braids swaying behind him as he did.

As the group disperses, he stands back to see if the Dwarf, Taklinn, would choose to have a word with him. He didn't know him, but dwarves were curious beings sometimes when it came to their own. He may have advice regarding the mines or the force Kho'nan was suggesting they bring. If he does not approach, then Kho'nan moves out with the rest.


When Hagen speaks, he simply nods his understanding. It was a typical short term, long term gain scenario. The mine had to come first. Not only because it meant he could destroy the unworthy much more quickly. "Hagen, no need to reassure us that ye 'aven't forgotten the deal. You can always rest assured we'll never forget. We'll do our part."

+++

[At the Postmaster]

Kho'nan was unfamiliar with such places. He often sent message the old fashioned way: screaming them into an enemy's face just before crushing it into a mess of bone and goo. He had been assured, however, that this would work.

His imposing form entered the small cabin used for sending like a demon, as the sun from outside presented him only in shadow. The symbiont approved. ~~ I smell flesh in a confined space... were you only to let me eat... I'm... so... FUCKING... HUNGR- ~~

"QUIET!"

The place went to a dead stop. He composed himself and walked to the sender.

"Apologies." Somehow his inside voice, gravelly as a rockslide, was still thunderous despite its low volume. "Need to'sendin' a message to my kin." He gave the exact location of his kin of the hills in the Mror Holds and sent the following message in Dwarfish:

+++ Kho'nan Shieldcrusher in need of aid from kin - silver mines in need of actual skill; good pay; good beer; good food; good fun - mines need clearin' & securin' of beasts. Opportunity to expand in future. Opportunity for glory for the clans. Crush Shields & come ASAP +++

Cabin was a generous word to use for the post, a small pavilion with boxes of parcels fluttering in the light breeze. Inside, you see a male hobgoblin of reasonable stature, standing a head taller than you despite their slouched posture. Hobgoblins are a rare sight this far north, as most of them left to join Darguun after the war ended their mercenary contracts. A young face looks up through muddy brown hair, notations of messages to be sent lay displayed on a small desk before him. An impeccably kept trident leans against the desk beside him. He begins to greet you warmly before your outburst silences the man, who replies to you in a more timid voice than before.

As you state your message in Dwarfish, he requests that you write it down in common. "Unfortunately, I don't speak Dwarfish and that would make me trying to send a message in it pretty difficult and most likely very offensive."  He states, laughing nervously at the end, still a bit shaken from the outburst. Handing you a paper, he stops for a brief second. "I haven't seen you around camp before, are you new around here? And if so, welcome to the cause. We need all the help possible." He says, reaching out to shake your hand before realizing he just gave you a parchment and quill to write down the message, and embarrassingly puts his hand back down.

Kho'nan's eyes narrow. To the very perceptive, the tattoos on the sides of his head start to slowly shift as his mood changed. He had no idea how these magic sending stones worked, assuming that if he talked loudly enough into one, his clan would somehow get it. Slightly frustrated, he took a quill and wrote down the message again - exact as he could.

He leans in close to the hobgoblin. "Send it now, lad." The Beast's tone indicated that he would wait until it went out.

He wouldn't say anymore until he got a confirmation.

The hobgoblin laughs nervously again, clearly intimidated by the man. "Yes, but you must understand that I can't send it directly to uh..." He glances down, looking at the message. "The Mror Holds. It's kind of like a chain of messages, so it may take some time. First I'm sending it to a contact of mine within a separate House Sivis post office. My apologies."

He begins speaking the message into the stone, and quickly completes it, as to not anger the dwarfish man any further. After finishing the message, he glances back towards the man, addressing him once more. "It's sent. But hey, if you're going into the silver mines, would you mind me tagging along? I haven't had much of a chance to get out, as I've been relegated to messenger boy. Just because I'm only 16 doesn't mean anything, I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. I've been suuuper bored here just sending messages all day. Will you let me tag along? He says, raising the pitch of his voice in almost a begging tone, showing his immaturity and eagerness to do SOMETHING. If you say yes, I'm ready to go whenever. I've got all I need right here." he says, pointing with his eyes to his trident. "The name's Oraam, by the way. What's yours?"

Kho'nan doesn't respond to the explanation of how magic sending stones work, even if it did interest him. When he got word back, they'd arrange to meet well outside of the camp and work their way back in - less insider info for prying ears and minds.

When he hears "It's sent," he begins to turn around, only to stop as more speaking continues.

The tattooed war dwarf slowly turns back around, fixing his gaze on Oraam - sizing him up - and glancing at the trident. Finally, he lets out a loud chuckle, the thunderous voice sounding not altogether as though it belonged to him. The symbiont was enjoying this as well. Finally, he stopped and stared hard at the boy again.

"Admire the spirit, lad. Last fella I watched get torn from arse-to-tits while 'e was still screamin' for his fuckin' mother had a similar disposition, an' he had more than a toothpick with'im. I'm no nurse maid."

His eyes were hard, full of fire, and yet somehow vacant; nothing about his gaze gave away that any of what he was saying was simple bluster meant to intimidate.

"If this is the closest to battle ye ever get, consider yerself lucky, lad. Are ye so eager to hear the screams? Smell the blood, sweat, piss, and shit? Make promises ye can never keep? Do yerself a favor an' enjoy this. Now you, yer toothpick, forget every word o'me message; loose lips have ways of fallin' off broken heads where me an' mine are from."

With that, he turned and left.

Once Izar had loaded a plate and carefully tucked away a selection foods that would keep well for later, she made her way towards the palisade where the three others had gone.  When it turned out that the day to day activities of the camp were too loud for her to pick out more than a few words without her eavesdropping becoming conspicuous, she happily shifted her focus to reading and working her way through her meal, but by the time Izar noticed that the meeting had ended, most of the participants had dispersed.  Scanning the camp, she picked out a riot of blue hair walking with a determined step towards ... the Postmaster?

She was still a few feet away when the bellowed call for silence was made. She begins tracing a treble clef through the air before thinking better of it; if Kho'nan needed silence, hearing her voice in his head would likely do more harm than good.   Instead, she stands by the door of the palisade, taking care not to draw too much attention to herself.

Benobo wrote:

"But hey, if you're going into the silver mines, would you mind me tagging along?

Kho'nan is nothing if not determined, she chuckles silently to herself.  At least there will be many opportunities for me to learn about mines, mining, and possibly even silver smithing!


Satisfied that their immediate next steps were unlikely to get her killed, she steps away from the Postmaster's and feigns only just arriving when Kho'nan steps out.


"Oh hello! I was told that I could find you here," she begins, giving him a well-practiced, shy-but-earnest smile. "Apparently you can be as stern as some librarians I've known." The golden eyes sparkle mischievously for a moment before she absently blows at a wayward curl. "That meeting seemed, uh quite long.  Maybe we could find the others and get something to eat?  I would be perfectly capable of handling whatever news you have to share... over a snack."  She looks past him to the Postmaster's. "Were you able to get the right message across?"