Strange Encounters (Private, Renown)
Jan 6, 2024 16:18:51 GMT -5
Post by Euanthe on Jan 6, 2024 16:18:51 GMT -5
Euanthe was still uncomfortable around people, but Renda had insisted and she'd owed the woman a favor or two after the help she had received. The elderly half-orc couldn't travel like she used to, or so she claimed. Euanthe suspected she was simply unwilling to leave the Lending Library in the hands of anyone else. Whatever the reason she, in that grandmother-like way, did not so much as directly ask as pine openly about how she wished someone strong would go in her stead to help the poor people of that devastated city, and went further into waxing on about the interesting sights of a mountain that bled fire.
In all truth, the stories of that mountain, of the sights, that had gotten Euanthe more than the guilt. It ticked some half-faded memories buried deep in her mind. The elf, their home, the warm fire, the stories of a world she never got to see. Perhaps it was time, rather than timid ventures outwards, to go on a real voyage to see something she hadn't, to see the world. While she still felt she knew how the world would react to her, these were desperate people who needed help from any source and could not afford to spurn any helping hands. Surely they would be more accepting.
It had been easier than she thought, through Renda's suspiciously wide net of acquaintances, to find a captain who occasionally made the voyage from the Marsh Flats all the way that far north. He wasn't used to carrying passengers, but his ship was equipped to transport the large water buffalo and other impressive beasts from the flats, so it would be able to carry Euanthe, and he was not so skittish or unfriendly as an average ship might be. The captain was polite and buisness-like and a humble man. He made time to check in with Euanthe often enough and explain things when she had questions, even shared a meal or two down belowdecks with her. Her size preventing her from moving more freely about the deck of his vessel safely. While they did not exactly become friends, they were cordial and kind enough.
The voyage was not quite what Euanthe had expected, but in a less positive way than the captain. While the gentle and sometimes less so, rocking of the sea was familiar in a way she found exhilarating. Being belowdecks, cut off from the rush of sea air and the big open sky, the wide view of the sea, made the experience a pale imitation of half-faded memories and turned a long journey longer as she had only time to wait and pace and think on what would happen next, muse on if her decision to go had been poor, and further darkening thoughts. Still, it was nothing compared to that endless suspension in the nothing. That isolation of stone. No no, she would take the belly of a ship gladly. At least she was alive, could move and feel and see the sun through slats and at the distant ladder and it was not an eternity. It was a steady journey with a defined ending... and she had her wolf.
Though, Lykos was being treated more like a dog than a wolf by a few of the braver men and spoiled creature she was the longer they lasted, she was starting to let them. Euanthe would huff and roll at least one pair of her eyes when she saw Lykos following a sailor around and panting at his heel waiting for more scratches or another treat of stray scraps. The hydragorgon was convinced the wolf ate better than anyone on the ship.
Eventually, finally, the journey ended and docked at a smaller port. To Euanthe's relief it was near nightfall so she simply waited for the sun to set before disembarking, pretending to busy herself with helping the few men on the ship remove cargo more expediently. She suspected the captain knew her true motive but spared any of her from explaining.
Finally, under cover of night she left the ship, descended past the docks and left the small port to head to the outskirts of the city proper. That had been the plan at least. But things seldom went according to plan, and while she had been right to assume the people of the ravaged Darkveil were desperate for help, she had forgotten that they were also frightened, and frightened people she knew well, were stupid. Even as she had been making her best guess towards some ruined outskirt of town the people she saw screamed and fled or drew weapons and sunk back into what shelters they had. Dogs barked and people shouted and another distant memory sharpened in her mind as a rock stung one of her cheeks. It had taken all she had not to lash back, reflexively and cause much worse problems for herself. Instead Euanthe ran. Her taloned feet tearing into the ruined streets as she fled at a gallop out of the devastated town.
Euanthe was not in town to hear the whispers that spread that night and in the following days, of how misfortune would not cease in Darkveil, how a new monster had come to terrorize them, but she did not have to be to assume that's exactly what was going on. She cursed herself and Renda for their foolishness their stupid optimism and pointless hope. In her sulking she had brooded at the view of the mountain, still glowing and dark against the sky. Ominous, imposing, Even more impressive in reality than she had imagined in the stories. Those stories she dimly remembered forced her to remember other things. To remember the elf, the village, what happened after the rocks stung her. She was not a child this time, had not protector to help her and speak on her behalf. But she had been given the tools to learn and she could either wallow in her misery and struggle her way back to the marsh, encountering the same problem again and again on the way home, or she could do what she came to do, and see if she could change anything.
So Eunathe returned to the outskirts of Darkveil. She would come after dawn, and leave just before dusk. The stories of the few that saw the monster were spreading, talking to the volunteers from around Charon, asking if any would bravely handle the beast that loomed on the western fringe. A horrible monster came every day and hurled around the stones of an old temple like some profane beast sent to revel in the broken shrine to a dead god that could no longer save its people from such monsters. The story like so many, had grown and changed quickly telling about the three headed beast with snakes for hair, its pale and mottled flesh that smelled like poison, that hid the fiery breath of a dragon. Some evil stitched monstrosity from the netherworld. Whatever it was it was stomping around one of the old temples and it was only a matter of time before it started stomping into town to demand tributes of young men and women to eat, surely!
Half a week in and Euanthe returned to the outskirts of town like she did every day. The foundations of this building were large and if she cleared enough rubble there might be some useable structure underneath. What was more, the rocks she was moving could provide for at least a short wall to help keep hungry predators out. The smaller of the chunks of fallen building and volcanic stone formed a third pile that she stopped to examine. Her rightmost head folding her arms while her leftmost tapped her chin.
"Close though, nearly there!"
Each head spoke in its own voice as Euanthe assessed the situation aloud, musing on her project while Lykos walked up beside her and rubbed at her leg, the spoiled wolf still becoming accustomed to less pets and attention than a ship full of bored sailors could provide. One stray hand reached down to scratch her behind the ears, just this once, as a treat, before work would begin.
In all truth, the stories of that mountain, of the sights, that had gotten Euanthe more than the guilt. It ticked some half-faded memories buried deep in her mind. The elf, their home, the warm fire, the stories of a world she never got to see. Perhaps it was time, rather than timid ventures outwards, to go on a real voyage to see something she hadn't, to see the world. While she still felt she knew how the world would react to her, these were desperate people who needed help from any source and could not afford to spurn any helping hands. Surely they would be more accepting.
It had been easier than she thought, through Renda's suspiciously wide net of acquaintances, to find a captain who occasionally made the voyage from the Marsh Flats all the way that far north. He wasn't used to carrying passengers, but his ship was equipped to transport the large water buffalo and other impressive beasts from the flats, so it would be able to carry Euanthe, and he was not so skittish or unfriendly as an average ship might be. The captain was polite and buisness-like and a humble man. He made time to check in with Euanthe often enough and explain things when she had questions, even shared a meal or two down belowdecks with her. Her size preventing her from moving more freely about the deck of his vessel safely. While they did not exactly become friends, they were cordial and kind enough.
The voyage was not quite what Euanthe had expected, but in a less positive way than the captain. While the gentle and sometimes less so, rocking of the sea was familiar in a way she found exhilarating. Being belowdecks, cut off from the rush of sea air and the big open sky, the wide view of the sea, made the experience a pale imitation of half-faded memories and turned a long journey longer as she had only time to wait and pace and think on what would happen next, muse on if her decision to go had been poor, and further darkening thoughts. Still, it was nothing compared to that endless suspension in the nothing. That isolation of stone. No no, she would take the belly of a ship gladly. At least she was alive, could move and feel and see the sun through slats and at the distant ladder and it was not an eternity. It was a steady journey with a defined ending... and she had her wolf.
Though, Lykos was being treated more like a dog than a wolf by a few of the braver men and spoiled creature she was the longer they lasted, she was starting to let them. Euanthe would huff and roll at least one pair of her eyes when she saw Lykos following a sailor around and panting at his heel waiting for more scratches or another treat of stray scraps. The hydragorgon was convinced the wolf ate better than anyone on the ship.
Eventually, finally, the journey ended and docked at a smaller port. To Euanthe's relief it was near nightfall so she simply waited for the sun to set before disembarking, pretending to busy herself with helping the few men on the ship remove cargo more expediently. She suspected the captain knew her true motive but spared any of her from explaining.
Finally, under cover of night she left the ship, descended past the docks and left the small port to head to the outskirts of the city proper. That had been the plan at least. But things seldom went according to plan, and while she had been right to assume the people of the ravaged Darkveil were desperate for help, she had forgotten that they were also frightened, and frightened people she knew well, were stupid. Even as she had been making her best guess towards some ruined outskirt of town the people she saw screamed and fled or drew weapons and sunk back into what shelters they had. Dogs barked and people shouted and another distant memory sharpened in her mind as a rock stung one of her cheeks. It had taken all she had not to lash back, reflexively and cause much worse problems for herself. Instead Euanthe ran. Her taloned feet tearing into the ruined streets as she fled at a gallop out of the devastated town.
Euanthe was not in town to hear the whispers that spread that night and in the following days, of how misfortune would not cease in Darkveil, how a new monster had come to terrorize them, but she did not have to be to assume that's exactly what was going on. She cursed herself and Renda for their foolishness their stupid optimism and pointless hope. In her sulking she had brooded at the view of the mountain, still glowing and dark against the sky. Ominous, imposing, Even more impressive in reality than she had imagined in the stories. Those stories she dimly remembered forced her to remember other things. To remember the elf, the village, what happened after the rocks stung her. She was not a child this time, had not protector to help her and speak on her behalf. But she had been given the tools to learn and she could either wallow in her misery and struggle her way back to the marsh, encountering the same problem again and again on the way home, or she could do what she came to do, and see if she could change anything.
So Eunathe returned to the outskirts of Darkveil. She would come after dawn, and leave just before dusk. The stories of the few that saw the monster were spreading, talking to the volunteers from around Charon, asking if any would bravely handle the beast that loomed on the western fringe. A horrible monster came every day and hurled around the stones of an old temple like some profane beast sent to revel in the broken shrine to a dead god that could no longer save its people from such monsters. The story like so many, had grown and changed quickly telling about the three headed beast with snakes for hair, its pale and mottled flesh that smelled like poison, that hid the fiery breath of a dragon. Some evil stitched monstrosity from the netherworld. Whatever it was it was stomping around one of the old temples and it was only a matter of time before it started stomping into town to demand tributes of young men and women to eat, surely!
Half a week in and Euanthe returned to the outskirts of town like she did every day. The foundations of this building were large and if she cleared enough rubble there might be some useable structure underneath. What was more, the rocks she was moving could provide for at least a short wall to help keep hungry predators out. The smaller of the chunks of fallen building and volcanic stone formed a third pile that she stopped to examine. Her rightmost head folding her arms while her leftmost tapped her chin.
"Not enough. Not yet."
"Close though, nearly there!"
"We'll still need help."
Each head spoke in its own voice as Euanthe assessed the situation aloud, musing on her project while Lykos walked up beside her and rubbed at her leg, the spoiled wolf still becoming accustomed to less pets and attention than a ship full of bored sailors could provide. One stray hand reached down to scratch her behind the ears, just this once, as a treat, before work would begin.