Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[C S]

The guards, one woman and one man, looked at each other quizzically. Their uniforms, with exception for their light leather tunics, did not seem especially professional in any way. The casual dress was only accentuated by the fact they were wearing their winter coats over their gear.

"I mean... yeah?" the man answered uncertainly. "Our buddies in Brodudika have been sending guys out to help out, though," he said, looking to his partner for her input on the topic.

"They might... er... are using this town as a base for supplies... I think," she added. It was clear that Ichdale's law enforcement was not the most highly trained force among Aster's varied locales. "I heard of them doing that, you know. They set up camp near to a trading hub so that they could... buy stuff..." she trailed off and cleared her throat.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

Why the poachers chose such a pleasant town as their base of operations was obvious. Now, with those simple words from the guardswoman, the "how" was made just as obvious.

"I don't suppose you would know where they might be held up?" the woman asked, keeping her tone even despite her lack of confidence in the guards' knowledge. "Or perhaps know of someone who might?"

[C S]

"I don't think anyone's asked since the last party that came this way--" The man sucked in a breath after realizing his slip. The woman nudged him in the ribs disapprovingly. He put a hand behind his capped head and and looked very shameful, doing his best not to meet the stranger's gaze. "Uh... we here in uniform thought as long as we didn't ask where they were, the townsfolk could still be of service without having any guilt on their hands. What they don't know won't hurt them kind of deal, right?"

The guardswoman sighed. "The truth is, if they knew there were people out to find them, and that we knew where they were, we'd be strung up on our own metaphorical gallows, you follow? A hostage situation for a whole town, assuming they didn't just burn the place to the ground."

"But... uh... I don't suppose you're here to help out with that, are you?" the man broached.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"In fact, I am," the woman replied, looking away thoughtfully. Things might be a little more time-consuming than she had hoped. "I was sent by Brodudika to free your people from this burden."

[C S]

At that, the two eased considerably, even breaking out into smiles. The guardswoman took the adventurer's hands in hers and shook them vigorously. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, "believe it or not, but we couldn't fight our way out of a sack, much less criminals. I'd be willing to bet that the only reason the town hasn't fallen yet is because of that other bunch who have been staying with us!"

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"Other bunch?" the woman inquired, as if not noticing the unrelenting shake of her limbs. "Could you direct me to them? They might have information that may help me."

[C S]

"Oh, right away!" The man replied and proceeded to head into the town proper, with the woman all but pulling the newcomer along, how excited she was. Onlookers on their daily routines raised their brows and conversed among themselves, wondering what their bumbling protectors were doing now. It didn't seem like something that would bring about too much harm, so the citizens stayed back and continued as they were while the adventurer was taken to the town lodge.

"Miss Ghaal!" the man called out into the lobby upon his entry. He stepped aside, holding the door open for the others, and then let the door shut when his partner and the adventurer were inside and away from the rain.

The orcish lady looked up from the huddle of warriors and the doctor. "Yes, Paul?" she asked, her voice weary. She had been dealing with these people for some time, and it was showing on her physical appearance. Orcs were not known for their youthful looks... but this was especially telling.

"We have another compatriot from Brodudika!" the guardswoman reported enthusiastically.

Ghaal cocked her head. Bart and Rastif looked up as well. "Fancy that," Bart deadpanned.

"What's your name, friend?" Ghaal asked, as Veera glared as she did.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"Greetings," the woman replied with a slight bow. She seemed entirely unaffected by the sudden chance of scenery. "You may call me Pamela. I was commissioned by Brodudika to solve your poacher problem. I was hoping you could help me determine where, exactly, they reside."

[C S]

"Fancy that," Bart deadpanned again, earning a growl from his older comrade. Rastif shifted and waved Pamela over to the counter they were all standing around. They had a map of the area spread out over the top, and pins of various size and design, probably gained from a local crafts store, stuck to it.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

The woman made her way over, eyeing the map carefully. A distant look of dissatisfaction played across her features, but only for a moment.

"I suppose this problem has yet to find a solution."

[C S]

"We've been staking out their entrance points to the village," Rastif explained. He ran a finger across the map to another gate farther into the settlement, roughly on the opposite side of the lodge they were all in currently. Bart flicked the large studded pin that was used to denote the area's status as their primary lead. Rastif growled at him again.

"Right, right," Bart conceded and slunk away before he got punched in the shoulder. Again.

"From what we've gathered up to now, this area outside this region is our best bet at locating their base of operations," Ghaal said, tapping a finger on what was represented on the map as a cluster of finely illustrated trees.

"Nothing certain, yet," Bart added. "You've caught us at the point where we've started compiling our evidence, actually. Fancy tha--"

"Shut your mouth, Bart," Rastif warned.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

The woman known as Pamela made a thoughtful noise as she observed the map.

"Your assistance is appreciated. Once we can determine their location, you can return to your daily lives." The woman cast her gaze along the assembled group. "I do not mean to undermine your efforts, but I can handle this situation myself. I need only direction."

[C S]

That gave the others some pause.

"But... they have huge weapons," the guardswoman began. Ghaal raised a hand and she froze with her mouth half open.

"Carrie, you must understand that not every agent from Brodudika is operating on the same assignment."

"Yeah," Bart concurred, "Rastif, Ghaal, Veera and myself are only working together because we found out a while back that we work better together than on our own."

Paul stepped forward, "So you mean to tell us that you're going to let her go off by herself?"

"Hell no," Rastif replied bluntly. "We just won't get in her way, if she really can handle it by herself."

"And if she can't?" Carrie inquired.

That was when Bart reached over his shoulder. He had a strap slung across his chest, and after some deft handling, he produced the bow he procured on his last mission, plucking the string and pantomiming a shot. "She's in good hands, I'd say," he said with a slick ease.

"Bart, you ignorant ****. Didn't the trainer tell you not to do that?" Rastif scolded his comrade.

"It's only a problem if I let it go!" Bart retorted, gingerly letting the string settle back to a resting position.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"I suspect there's no point in arguing further," Pamela said with a sigh, not looking wholly pleased with the decision, but didn't seem inclined to fight it. She clasped her hands together expectantly a moment later, pushing the matter aside.

"So, where do we go from here?"

[C S]

"Our mission is to safeguard the town," Rastif replied. "I'd say our best bet for both our interests is for us four to take up point at the gate, while you go on ahead to fulfill your own objectives. We'll follow through if you get in over your head."

Ghaal crossed her arms and studied Pamela. She did her best to lessen the implication that she was staring at the woman, but the lack of weaponry or any other equipment, really, struck her as odd. There was no accounting for magic, she decided, and let the matter rest.

"I did not think we'd be able to move on ahead with this plan so soon. It really is a stroke of luck for us, and this town, that you've shown up as you did," said the orc.

[Hopeflower]

'Let me make sure I've got this straight.' Arsenic pushed his bangs out of his face to rub at his eyes. He'd paced from one side of the abandoned home to the other, and now turned on his heel to keep going. Motion felt good, felt safe. Safer than sitting down across from where Sami was crouched near the small fire. 'You're not absolutely certain that nothing is going to come after Ruters or I come spring.'

"No," said Sami, as calm as she had been when Arsenic had come to her earlier that morning. She hadn't been impressed to learn they'd gone looking for trouble, but the knowledge that another family was hibernating nearby was useful. "I can't tell you that you're safe. But I can tell you that it's unlikely that they'll hunt you." She shifted, folding her legs underneath her more comfortably.

Arsenic stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. 'I thought you told me that the Oniare kill everyone who sees them.'

Sami inclined her head and rose to her feet. "Most of the time." She approached the assassin, noting he grew more tense with every step she took. When she was close enough to reach out and touch him, his hand inched toward his jacket pocket, and she stopped. "I think, however, the fact that you didn't see them clearly may have saved your hides. Their Llanyn would never have let you leave alive otherwise."

'That's a comfort,' Arsenic said, bitingly sarcastic. Sami just cocked her head and stared at him with the patience of one who had dealt with many, many rebellious youngsters, and after a moment he sighed and looked away.

"I'm not here to offer comfort," she pointed out. "Only understanding."

'Right.' Then, after a hesitation that spoke volumes about how his next words must have pained him, he added, 'I'm sorry.'

That was new. And unexpected. Sami stepped back out of his personal space. "Have you hit your head?" she asked, wondering if she should be suspicious.

Arsenic snorted, retreating toward the door a few steps. 'No. Don't get used to it. I just...' He shook his head and lifted one shoulder in an awkward half-shrug. 'I don't know. I should at least trust that you know what you're talking about.'

Ah. So that was it. Sami clasped her hands behind her back. "In this, yes. Dislike and distrust me as much as you like in other matters," she told him. It almost came off as a joke. Almost.

'Right,' Arsenic repeated, a little dryly. He pulled the door open, making the Oniare back away a few more steps, and left without another word. In the short time it took him to make it back to the village, even with the deep snow, he toyed with the idea that he should be more disgusted with himself. He shoved the thought aside after some consideration. There was no real reason for it. One apology didn't equate to trusting the reptilian fully, after all.

[C S]

Out at the lake, Rutgers had a different concern on his mind. Obscure truths and hidden danger dominated his life, but he was still just a man. A man's stomach wasn't something easily ignored after some time. Spending most of his time out in the wild as he did, square meals were not things that he came across often. He adapted his eating habits to match a lifestyle of a gatherer, which lent itself to keeping him in as top condition as he could be in while training with his axes, but in the winter time such things were hard to come by.

After as many winters as he had been through, the axeman knew more than a few handy tricks to get around the scarcity. Some were survival tactics gained through becoming a ranger. Others were what he learned from nomads and tribes over his travels. A select few were just things he happened across in his most trying times.

He sloshed through the shallows of the icy water. His pelt and carry on were left further up on the shore, but Rutgers made a conscious effort not to stray too far. He wasn't the only thing still up and about in the snow, looking for food. He didn't need any wily creature rummaging through his bag in search of a bite that wasn't there to be had. He stopped at the arrangement of small sticks he had set up earlier in the day, before it was light out. True to form, a few small fish were circling about within the enclosure, carried in by the current of the lake and effectively corralled.

Rutgers offered his silent thanks for the luck, and the soon-to-be breakfast. Using a cloth bag as an improvised net, he dipped it into the water and patiently worked the fish into the sack. When they were all inside, he pulled the bag up and closed it tight with his free hand. He let the water drain out of the bag and then made quick speed back onto dry land. The wriggling in the bag compelled him to be quick and humane.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

The woman nodded, both at their course of action and the orc's sentiment.

"Then I guess it's best we get started," she said, turning back toward the way she had come in. "Make sure the civilians and guard know what's going on. For their safety, they cannot be allowed to leave until this is over."

[C S]

"Of course... we can't let anyone be caught in between the fighting..." Ghaal replied as evenly as she could manage. There was something offputting about the certainty this woman spoke with, though. It wasn't some overconfidence, or a boastful tendency. It came off as Pamela being a seasoned warrior, but just how powerful could this seemingly ordinary wanderer be?

"Alright then," Rastif continued while the orc ruminated on their peculiar ally. "Paul, Carrie, you know what to do."

The two Ichdale sentries nodded with stern determination locked on their faces. They could not fight, but at least they could pass a message along with some degree of competency.

"Then I guess there's no time like the present. We head out when you're ready," Bart said to the adventurer. Ghaal remained uneasy, and the silent doctor did nothing to change that standing in the company of Pamela.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"Then let's be off," Pamela responded with a quick look over her shoulder before heading out of the lodge. Using what she had learned from the map, she had some vague direction as to where the poachers might be. It was not certain, but it was better than nothing.