The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Helene Dakesh]

"There is sufficient space on this side, and several cracks," says Helene softly. "This one cannot see far through the cracks, but it is likely oxygen is entering the system. The larger problem will be the buildup of depleted air from our consumption." Helene shivers, taking a moment to rock, letting nir head bump against the floor a few times. "Stories. This one-- do you know any stories of cave adventures that ended well? A recitation would be-- would be appreciated."

[Varric]

Would be appreciated... that means (can't move) 'please!' in Helene-speech. That slight tremble (trapped!) in nir voice... damn. Ne needs... needs help. I need (get out get out get out) to help ne. Focus. Breath. Talk. "Course I do! What d-dwarf worth their coal doesn't know at least a handful of g-good underground stories? I could tell... a nice kid focused on about Tin-hat Taosin, a nearly of age dwarf that dr-dropped his older brother's pick down a chute and the adventure he went on to get it back. Or if you want something more... episodic, there's Clockwise Creation, which has dozens of different variations and arcs to cover about a golem-raised dwarf and her quest to find a home when her p-parents finally run down. Or hells, we could go extraplanar with the Legend of Davos Nethric, the merikos dwarf that dug their way into and out of the Plane of Earth." By the time he finishes rattling off his list, his voice has almost entirely smoothed out.

[Helene Dakesh]

"Davos," says Helene, with only a small quaver in nir voice. "This one has heard of Davos Nethric, called The Badger, and his enchanted pick. This one has seen four variations of the t-tale in books," Helene adds. "Which is the one taught to Varric?"

Ne swallows, closing nir eyes. Just a moment-- just let him tell it-- just let go for a few moments. That's all.

[Varric]

Varric scoffs lightly. "There's no variations in this, Seeks. Davos was a real person, and while he wasn't much of a historian, the waitress at the tavern in the motes? The one that never gets named? She was and she wrote it all down. No name still, just signed it 'A Simple Serving-Girl' but.. right from the source. She was pretty good too. Annoyingly scant on personal details, no forward or notes- some people think she was a tulwath- but pretty good author."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Ah, the s-serving girl record," says Helene, eyes still closed, hanging onto language with all nir focus. "Veracity is dubious. The tulwath theory has merit but scholars in Draslina accept the hypothesis that such was fictionalized from oral tales after the fact, attributed t-to a minor c-character in the Alessian style for veracity."

He's doing better, ne notes, distantly. Smoother. More confident. 

[Varric]

"I could see that as a possibility but one of Cadesh's expeditions in 998 managed to find the tavern. They confirmed that Davos was a regular, that the serving girl was his favorite and that she was seen writing in a thick tome often. Weird as hells though- none of the staff knew a name for her, just remembered her as variations of 'the clever server.' Which leads back to the tulwath idea. Personally, I figure it was Seeker tulwath that was upset about ol'Badger's experiences not being recorded and passed around."

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene smiles faintly, satisfied despite the pain, the feeling of being trapped. I can help him. The thought is comforting, soothing. "Then, tell the tale," ne asks, and lets language go for a time, closing nir eyes to rest a bit. 

[GamesMaster]

Leigh Swifthooves, Talon, was having a perfectly ordinary afternoon. His body was resting with Soft-Fur, keeping her company as she rested, her newborn fawn sleeping in his lap; his mind was elsewhere, with his oldest partner, Buck, as the stag led the small herd to the northern grazing pasture. The herd wasn't taking to the presence of the sheepdog; Leigh had half a mind to try again with a mabari, hoping the more intelligent canine could serve as a protector while being smart enough not to spook the herd. Leigh didn't understand dogs the way he understood deer, but he understood them better than the forest-blind tourists who passed through. The elf struggled at times with his pride; how could anyone be blind to the nature around them, intentionally cut themselves off from Uryll's blessings? But it was no matter. He needed to practice letting Buck be his eyes and ears, sending only his mind with the companion.

Buck's alarm courses through Leigh's body. Together, as one, they turn to see the figures barging into the clearing: humanoids, three, one with a bow, one carrying another. Buck tenses, ready to lead the herd to safety, but Leigh sends as much calm as he can muster, asking him to wait. He pulls his consciousness back, reaching into his belt pouch and pulling out a small bit of food, making small chittering noises. Within a few seconds, a squirrel bounds up to eat from his hand.

A moment later, the squirrel races toward Lightsong, bearing a message: Who are you, and what are you doing in this pasture?

[Jassinth]

It's the figure with the bow that rushes forward to answer instead. "Fea- Feather Jassinth. Urgent- healer needed!" he gasps out. Jass is not a marathon runner. His combat style is patience and ambush, from a distance. With frequent but very short rests, he can stay active for most of a day but this? Ascending to the surface, through tight crevices and up nearly shear faces in a rush? His fingers are caked in dried blood, two of his toes are broken, one of his ribs cracked and the only reason why the stitch in his side has stopped is because the muscle that was cramped is too tired to seize up any longer. If it wasn't for a pair of judiciously applied healing touches from Lightsong, he'd have passed out six hours ago.

[Haliel Lightsong]

Lightsong is little different and yet not at all the same. She's covered in dust and grime, her armour dinged and scratched, her hair a tangle. Yet she doesn't seem even remotely tired- nor does she seem to care about talking tree-rats, instead moving at a rapid clip towards the Oak.

[GamesMaster]

The response is immediate -- Buck, the massive red deer stag, trots toward Jass, kneeling to allow him to get on. A second stag, this one smaller and with less impressive antlers, trots up to Lightsong, kneeling before her. The offer is clear: these wild deer are offering a great honor, as they rarely consent to being ridden like horses by strangers.

[Jassinth]

Jass pulls himself up with a groan, remembering to stroke the buck's neck and mumble something grateful and soothing as he does so. After a moment, he scowls, then calls, "Lightsong, get on the buck. It'll be faster. Lightsong!"

[Haliel Lightsong]

Jolting from her single-minded focus, the paladin stares at him for a second, then the doe. Finally she shakes her head as if to clear it more and approaches the deer. She hesitates briefly, trying to figure out how to get on and stay on while holding Marian, but figures it out rapidly enough.

[GamesMaster]

As the two deer take off, they are soon met by a third stag, one that rapidly takes the lead. When the swift ungulates reach the Oak, they head unerringly toward the healing hall, and as soon as they arrive, the new stag shifts back into an elf, leaning on his oaken staff as he hobbles into the hall. 

"What is the trouble?" he asks, hating the way common sounds on his lips. "May I assist?"

[Haliel Lightsong]

The paladin slides off the buck with a soft grunt, turning desperate eyes towards what she prays is a healer. "Marian- she- dragon- shadows- died but- I fixed that but she- she won't wake up!"