Trinkets and Baubles

The Ear of God

antiq-uarian:

Rosai wasn’t a religious person, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When she entered the church she was amazed at how everything smelled. She could recognize all the scents in the air. Familiar incenses and feelings in the air. That helped a little at-least. She seemed the most uneasy out of everyone in the church, walking around not even fully sure where to go. She eventually settled down under the transept, looking at the others there to see what they were doing. She sighed and eventually just began trying to “talk” to this “god”.

“… are you there? …”

She sighed, this felt stupid. But she needed to talk to someone. Something about this. She bowed her head, and shut her eyes.

“I’m going to asume you’re there. Look I’ve… done some terrible things. They won’t… leave my mind no matter how hard I try. What can I do to get it to leave me?”

She waited, a minute, two, five, then ten. Nothing. Just silence. Her face scrunched up in frustration. She sighed and stood up.

“Fine. Don’t answer.”

She muttered under her breath and began to storm out of the abbey. This was exactly why she wasn’t religious.

She watches from the corner of the sanctuary, overseeing the prayers that drifted up to the sponge-like heavens, taking everything in, but rarely letting anything back out. Mercy and blessings dropped like rain - it felt random, and at times, undeserved. Droughts were common. In faith, they always were. You don’t always get something… but Toustain liked to believe that you always got what you needed.

The antiquarian is one she recognizes. One that she wonders about, and then worries about, when she shoves her way out of the pew and down the side aisle towards the back. Toustain heads down the other side, meeting her at the large, wooden double doors that lead to the outside world. The woman looked upset, frustrated - Toast can tell that even through the wrappings and layers. She stops in front of her, her face sympathetic. The antiquarian obviously didn’t have much patience, but what she lacked, the vestal could make up for.

“Miss Rosai… is there something I could perhaps aid you with?” She keeps her voice low, for the sake of the other patrons.

#no one's there #thelightprevails #rp #reblog

She didn’t even notice Toustain in the church when she first entered. Nor when she was leaving, so seeing her was a surprise. Causing her to jump a little bit, hand hovering on the door handle. Her dark eyes meeting the other’s, Rosai’s eyes looked tired, maybe as if she had just been crying before coming here. She looked Toustain up and down. Sighing.

“I don’t understand how you all hold onto faith when nothing answers. Especially when you need it.”

Her voice dipped low as well, as if she was afraid for others to hear. Just keeping it loud enough for Toustain to hear. Her hand gripped onto the handle.

“I haven’t been sleeping. Nightmares. Won’t go away. Decided to try and come here and... I don’t know.”

She sighed. She really didn’t know why she thought it was a good idea to come here in the first place. It just wasn’t something she believed in. Rosai believed in what she could see. Not in... invisible gods and myths.

The Ear of God

@antiq-uarian

The sanctuary was a calm place. It usually was, under the best circumstances, laid with censer smoke and candlelight. And this evening was no different as the sun faded, streaks of red and purple coloring the stained glass windows, as broken as they were. There were a few commoners, and even a few mercenaries on their knees, muttering their prayers to God above. It was not often that the place was so busy, but with the outbreak, people’s faith seemed more important than ever before. Faith was either strengthened or shaken by facing what seemed to be impossible -Toustain herself tried to hold onto whatever she could, and believe.

It helped, to help others. The whispered prayers were sweet to her, even if they were done out of fear. Yes, she would have preferred that the people of the Hamlet attend whether or not they feared for their lives. But no person was perfect. But ever supplication that was made, was answered with nothing. She knows this. She knows it is the way it must be.

Sister Toustain has never heard the voice of her Goddess. She imagines it as calm, comforting, and yet with a deep and ancient unshakeable authority. Perhaps it was foolish to think of it as such. Vesta’s words were far beyond her, after all. Even as a close follower… she was not worthy to hear her. And looking out upon these people, these souls… she knows that they cannot hear her either.

#no one's there #rp #reblog #thelightprevails

Rosai wasn’t a religious person, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When she entered the church she was amazed at how everything smelled. She could recognize all the scents in the air. Familiar incenses and feelings in the air. That helped a little at-least. She seemed the most uneasy out of everyone in the church, walking around not even fully sure where to go. She eventually settled down under the transept, looking at the others there to see what they were doing. She sighed and eventually just began trying to “talk” to this “god”.

“... are you there? ...”

She sighed, this felt stupid. But she needed to talk to someone. Something about this. She bowed her head, and shut her eyes.

“I’m going to asume you’re there. Look I’ve... done some terrible things. They won’t... leave my mind no matter how hard I try. What can I do to get it to leave me?”

She waited, a minute, two, five, then ten. Nothing. Just silence. Her face scrunched up in frustration. She sighed and stood up.

“Fine. Don’t answer.”

She muttered under her breath and began to storm out of the abbey. This was exactly why she wasn’t religious.

antiq-uarian:

They met with similar gazes. The moment was intense. Even though all he could see was her eyes. The highwayman broke the tense air with his chuckle. She couldn’t help but nervously smile. The sharpness in his voice was unsettling. She looked away from the highwayman and back to Prescott. Fidgeting with her skirt. Even without seeing his face she could tell he was agitated. She then chuckled at his response. He meant it! Huh.

“Sure. Sure why not.”

As she gave the word, Prescott approached, kneeling down to wrap an arm around her knees and quickly hoisting her to a sitting position on his left shoulder. He figured his spaulders wouldn’t cause much issue with her skirt, but still kept the thought in mind. The Hunter kept a hold of her arm with his left hand to help keep her balance as he turned to face the young Highwayman who looked on rather amazed and a touch bit envious that he’d been serious. “Lead or come here.”

“Wait you’re offerin’ to me too??” His question was met with a slight irritated but affirming grunt. Cautiously the small man slipped his knife back in its sheath and approached. With a bit of help, Prescott had him in his free arm and started back tracking through the start of the ankle deep waters. It’s not as if he’s never had to carry much larger, much more uncooperative or straight up dead men before and he was determined to get back from the expedition with everyone who was still alive with him. “Be my ears..”

#rp #reblog #cold cold waters #direhunting #( AAAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE )#( I'VE JUST BEEN DEAD RECENTLY 8'D )

She smiled like a small child, not that anyone could see it that is. But she did seem pleased. Her armor didn’t bother her one bit because of her many layers. Using his hand to balance and stay on his shoulders. Managing to stifle a giggle in the process. She didn’t do things like this very often, but it sure did delight her when she did. She was a rather small woman so it was easy to hold her anyways.

“Oh my gods. Do you think you can hold us both?”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little in glee in that sentence. Promptly clearing her throat and readjusting her tone. She helped the highwayman up and let him know that he could use her for support if needed. She then looked down at Prescott and smiled.

“You’re rather interesting you know.”

Siren Song

antiq-uarian:

The singing seemed to resonate through her the louder it got. She did her best to ignore it, humming her own little tune to block it out. Shutting her eyes as she walked. Trying to stay calm. The cold water rushing past them as they headed for the door. Then they opened the door to her lair.

The creature was grotesque and horrible to look at. To think that she once was human… it made Rosai shutter. Rosai scrunched her nose up and pulled up her scarf up more. It smelled disgusting in here.

Olivier shook his head as Quinn pushed to the front. She needed to slow down, to wait and take her time. He took the moment to direct the attention onto himself, and prepare to attack back at any time he had attempt at his life. Locking his gaze onto the beast woman.

Rosai prepared her censer and waved some curious smoke around the whole team, seemingly giving them energy to keep moving.

+ 3 DODGE

Then, the beast seemed to notice this. She looked at Rosai, and began to sing. The whole world seemed to melt away as the song was sung. Rosai seemingly becoming lost in the sound of it. Her mind becoming foggy, she had to- she had to protect her queen! She shoved past the rest of her “team” and stood behind the horrible siren.

“DO NOT HARM HER YOU CRETINS!”

“In the name of god’s fucking thumb,” Olivier spits out, hoisting his mace. Toustain holds her breath, but the man puts up his shield instead, striking the antiquarian with it in an attempt to knock her out of the action.

The vestal looks at the Siren herself, trying to ignore the putrid saltwater stink as lightning strikes the creature, the excess energy radiating across the floor in sparks. It glanced off the stone, the light bathing everyone in eerie whites and yellows, colors that were so foreign to the dark and dank of the cove. The siren blows a shell, the sound so horrible and slightly mesmerizing that Toast clamps her hands over her ears, only to find that when she’s found the will to open her eyes, she’s summoned groupers from the pool of water below. Two climb, their yellowed eyes pulsing, and Quinn strikes with her glaive, cutting off a few webbed fingers.

“Get Rosai!” She yells, but hesitation is apparent in her voice. Olivier’s heavy mace smashes down on one of the grouper’s heads, the creature roaring in response, its gills flaring with hatred.

#rp #reblog #siren songs #thelightprevails #( its ok man )#( im also sorry abt my lil hiatus as well haha )

The shield hit her in the head and made her stumble back. Her brain flinging even more into a daze. She stayed behind the siren trying to stay up straight and not fall over. Managing to look up and spot the lightning hitting her queen.

“NO!”

She couldn’t do anything sadly, her brain too foggy. She could only cover her face as the light cascaded over the room. When she looked back up more of the siren’s companions had appeared. Her eyes were out of focus though so they mostly looked like normal men to her. Seeing the blood being sprayed out as the glaive sunk into flesh.

She barely even hard the yell, looking up to the noise in confusion. She hated that she was too disoriented to do anything.

antiq-uarian:

“Not much of a talker eh?”

She said giving him a look before standing up. Stretching her hands out and then joining the group once more. Looking at the highwayman and offering a hand, pulling him up to his feet and getting back into position. She then looked to Prescott.

“We’re you being serious about that offer though? Just curious.”

“……” It was probably for the best that his helm and cowl covered his face, yet despite this you could almost feel that he gave her a look back. The highwayman shot her a grin and a chuckle as he took her hand however. “Wasn’t there a sayin’ ‘bout how it’s always the quiet ones you should look out for?” He sounded teasing, but considering the smaller fellow had just gone through a paranoid break, there was still a hint of venom in his words. As irritating as that was though, the Bounty Hunter pushed down the urge to slug him and shrugged the comment off. Beating a teammate senseless right now would only make the walk back longer than it needed to be and quite honestly he didn’t want to explain himself for it afterwards.

He tilted his head a bit to the side. “Still am. You considering taking it up??“

#rp #reblog #cold cold waters #direhunting

They met with similar gazes. The moment was intense. Even though all he could see was her eyes. The highwayman broke the tense air with his chuckle. She couldn’t help but nervously smile. The sharpness in his voice was unsettling. She looked away from the highwayman and back to Prescott. Fidgeting with her skirt. Even without seeing his face she could tell he was agitated. She then chuckled at his response. He meant it! Huh.

“Sure. Sure why not.”

Siren Song

thelightprevails:

antiq-uarian:

Rosai couldn’t help but frown. She felt bad but didn’t really think it’d help her at all. She fiddled with her headscarf nervously as she thought about how the vestal must of felt. She scrunched her nose up and sighed.

“I guess a sip couldn’t hurt.”

She said gently waiting for the hellion to finish her own portion before taking the bottle and consuming the liquid herself. Yep, the hellion was right, just plain old water. She then looked up when Oliver spoke. Nodding softly. She pulled off her scarf and hood, using them as a makeshift pillow and laying down.

When the morning came she was hard to rouse groggy and not fully awake. She sighed as they trekked on after getting dressed once more. The salty air filling their lungs as they went on, Rosai loathed it, she lit her censer to muffle the horrid smells and kept going. They all eventually reached the door, they could all hear muffled singing on the other side, it seemed to unsettle Rosai the most.

“Well… lets get going.”

They take a turn into another cave, that strange singing growing louder and more persistent with every passing moment. The hallway is trekked in silence, the singing echoing off in all directions, making it sound like it came from everywhere. A flow of saltwater streams in the middle of the passage, pushing the mercenaries to hug the wall.

Then, she’s there.

Grotesque, haunting, a conch shell gripped between taloned, fleshy fingers. Her flesh was breaking off of her in places, skin and scale fighting against one another for dominion over the woman’s body. Woman’s? Mermaid’s? Siren’s? Toustain gasps at the sight of her, only for her senses to be filled with the odors of brine and rotting fish.

“QUICK!” Quinn dashes ahead, unafraid, feet finding purchase despite the cold, wet stone beneath them. She takes the first attack, glaive slicing through the siren’s back fin. The creature howls and shrieks, but the hellion grins like she’s tasting the fish at the fire the night prior. “SHE’LL BE DEAD BEFORE SHE HAS THE CHANCE TO STRIKE ANY OF US!”

Toustain greatly doubts that, but she readies her mace, waiting for the right moment to strike.

#rp #reblog #siren songs #thelightprevails #( sorry this took me so long hahah )#( and sorry if this is kinda shitty #Im suuuper tired rn )

The singing seemed to resonate through her the louder it got. She did her best to ignore it, humming her own little tune to block it out. Shutting her eyes as she walked. Trying to stay calm. The cold water rushing past them as they headed for the door. Then they opened the door to her lair.

The creature was grotesque and horrible to look at. To think that she once was human... it made Rosai shutter. Rosai scrunched her nose up and pulled up her scarf up more. It smelled disgusting in here.

Olivier shook his head as Quinn pushed to the front. She needed to slow down, to wait and take her time. He took the moment to direct the attention onto himself, and prepare to attack back at any time he had attempt at his life. Locking his gaze onto the beast woman.

Rosai prepared her censer and waved some curious smoke around the whole team, seemingly giving them energy to keep moving.

+ 3 DODGE

Then, the beast seemed to notice this. She looked at Rosai, and began to sing. The whole world seemed to melt away as the song was sung. Rosai seemingly becoming lost in the sound of it. Her mind becoming foggy, she had to- she had to protect her queen! She shoved past the rest of her “team” and stood behind the horrible siren.

“DO NOT HARM HER YOU CRETINS!”

nobrashfestivity

Wexler Films, Science of Light, 1960′s

#musings #not dd #ooc #dark

aberrantceramics

Keys for the Hierophant Tarot card

#keys #musings #ooc #not dd #antiques

Tagged by @thelightprevails

Repost, don’t reblog

1. What they smell like: dusty, old books, spices, incense

2. How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc.): Rosai sleeps with everyone else in the barracks, so she sleeps there when she can. Not often though, when she does sleep she sleeps in the most comfortable positions she can. Which is usually curled up, knees close to her body.

4. How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Not a lot. She just gets dressed and gets out the door, get some air, maybe take a walk.

5. Their favourite thing to collect: Everything really. Mostly jewelry though, jewelry and rare jewels.

6. Left or right-handed: Ambidextrous!

7. Religion (if any): None

8. Favourite sport: Doesn’t have one haha.

9. Favourite touristy thing to do when traveling: Collect souveneers! And write, write, write, and write. Have to document everything!

10. Favourite kind of weather: Rainy days, especially the smell just before the storm hits.

11. A weird/obscure fear they have: Being doused in oil, then lit aflame. Or being lit on a pyre (the fanatic is not her favorite boss to fight lets just say)

12. The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: The one where you throw hackey-sacks in a hole to get points, or the one where you have to knock down bottles.

I tag; whomever wants to do this really haha

#ooc #musings #rp meme #character info

antiq-uarian:

She loathed the wetness of the Cove, it always clung to her clothes and made her feel all cold and soggy. It had eventually just began numbing out her legs completely, she felt miserable. Her body ached and she had many, many scrapes and scars from the battles in the damp cold Cove. She had been squeezing out some water from her skirt as she chortled out that sentence, half joking. She really couldn’t feel her legs at this point. She then looked up at his offer.

“Oh! I uh- if it gets that bad I’ll let you know, for now it’s just… everything’s wet and cold, I’m not used to these surroundings yet.”

“Mhm.” Short with his words as always. Still the Hunter stopped and waited for Rosai to finish, not wanting to risk the group getting any more separated than it already has. The rather bedazzled highwayman that was with the group decided to take the moment to plop down on his ass and presumably complain under his breath, getting Prescott to sigh a bit out of irritation. “Don’t get comfortable.”

#rp #reblog #direhunting #cold cold waters #( lift em all up and run )

“Not much of a talker eh?”

She said giving him a look before standing up. Stretching her hands out and then joining the group once more. Looking at the highwayman and offering a hand, pulling him up to his feet and getting back into position. She then looked to Prescott.

“We’re you being serious about that offer though? Just curious.”

#reblog #audio #ooc #( !!! ooooh )#( this is very relaxing )

Visit Original Link

A track I ordered from Mynoise.net specifically for me and @antiq-uarian ‘s Siren thread!

eldritchbled

antiq-uarian:

+8 STRESS

That was enough to do her in, her fear sinking in and taking hold completely.

FEARFUL.

“I…I would give all my gold to be gone from here!“

All of this mission was too much. They should of left ages ago, why didn’t they flee sooner? She breathed heavily as the scream echoed in the air and the roar of her companion replaced it. The censer in her hands trembled with her shaking form. She cowered behind her bestial partner. Too scared to look at the bloody bodies of her other companions, too scared to think about what just happened before her eyes. All she could do is wait and see what the beast would even do.

“ Flee! I will forfeit my cut but we must flee!“

She yelled, voice trembling under the weight of the situation.

His comprehension of language is tenuous at best when he’s in this state, but there are other things he can only detect like this that offset that limitation. He could smell the blood on his companions, trace amounts from the former on the beast and he could smell Gordon’s in the air as his body sailed through the air. His dog had fled.

He could also smell fear.

“Nrrrgh….”

Half of his pack dead, the other too frightened to raise a hand to help anyone, including herself. They wouldn’t be able to move past its territory with just him fighting. The beast lowered its head, arms thick as tree trunks digging their claws in the ground, growling as the monster lumbered out of its pool.

“GRAAAH!”

As fast as a arrow pull, he charged forward, literally head first into the creature. His horns dug into its flesh, but the majority of the intent was in the strength behind it. The crocodile-like monster flew backwards, belly to the sky.

The abomination wouldn’t have time to capitalize on it.

Immediately, he back-stepped to his still breathing comrade, growling and nudging his head against her torso. His back legs kicked dirt back impatiently.

#eldrichbled #rp #reblog #the damned crocodilian #( get on the boofer and GO )

Her gaze snapped up as she heard the crocodilian rise from it’s watery hiding place, and then the beast rammed itself into the watery thing. Her breath was ragged and uneven, she struggled to get to her feet, staying far in the back. It was so unfathomably fast, but the crocodilian was stunned now.

She then flicked her gaze to the lurking beast. Fear in her dark eyes. What did it want? To eat her up like the rest of the bloody creatures in this hell? No, no, this was her companion. She knew that, right? Using the beast to steady herself, she stood. Ready to run, and not return for a very long time.

She blinked at the thing and cleared her throat, a shaky and mouse like voice squeaking out.

“W-we should- we should r-run.”

That was obvious but she felt the need to say something, anything to fill the air.

“EEK-”

The small woman shrieked and jumped at the sudden jab in the sides. Spinning around to face the robber quickly. Clearly startled at the sudden appearance of the woman.

“Please refrain from doing that! And yes I know, but I would think you’d want to head back to your home as soon as possible. Since people are dying after all.”

She huffed then readjusted her position. Brushing off her skirt. She then cleared her throat.

“I’m fine, but I do apologize for my behavior yesterday. I panicked. I guess you could say I’m not used to people… well acting like that towards me.”

She honestly wasn’t. She wasn’t going to lie like that. Specially towards such a lovely woman.

thedungeoncrewrp

“Really now?” Bolam raised a surprised eyebrow. “Is everybody too busy looking at the ground, or is decency just dead? You’d have to be blind to not appreciate you!”

She smiled slyly, tipping her hat a bit. “But you’re right. People are dying. Did you manage to get something done despite yesterday’s early departure? If not, I can wait another day, but beyond that a simple vial of Blood would have to do, even if we have to slit it in three.”

“!”

That seemed to shut her up for a moment. This woman was so kind to her.

“Haha… you flatter me.”

She smiled softly under the scarf. Clearing her throat and straightening up. Grabbing her pack and promptly digging through it for the vials she had prepared. She pulled out three slim vials filled with a pale pinkish powder,

“I came back later that night, you need not worry. This should feed three of your people, one per vial. I tested with one of our own resident cursed, it worked.”

She gently took the woman’s hand and opened it placing the vials in her palm, shutting her hand tight.

“You should get going, people are wasting away out there. Do have your heiress contact the Layde, trust me, I think they’ll both be happy for the transaction- our town is almost always bankrupt… I think they’d like the cash.”

thedungeoncrewrp

Bolam looked amazed at the antiquarian’s generosity. “You… you gave me enough to save 9 people, when I needed 3… you are a saint.” She smiled brightly at the woman, shaking her hand with emotion. “Your Layde has an immense luck to have you in their estate! I will make sure Lady Selemina comes and contacts them! We should have enough gold to pay you back for this generosity. Thank you again, with all my heart!”

She pressed a quick kiss to the antiquarian’s cheek, then stepped away, preparing to go. Suddenly a thought hit her and she turned around. “Wait, I didn’t get your name! I want the crimsoned to know who to thank for this. Would you tell me?”

#rp #reblog #for the blood #thedungeoncrewrp #( OHOHOHOHO IM GONNA DRAW THAT )#( good job rosai machine broke )

Rosai smiled, she didn’t mind, nor really care what the Layde would think at this point. This person clearly needed the help after all! She waved her hand.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She made an ‘oh!’ sound when her hand was taken for a shake. She nodded again as the robber thanked her for this kindness. She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Again you flatter me... you’re very kind as well miss. And I can guarantee that the Layde will welcome the gold and contact. Tis no problem at all.”

She froze up as the robber kissed her cheek. Her face flushing. She looked up as the woman spoke again, seemingly in a daze.

“R-Rosai, Rosai D-Dallard.”

She managed to mutter out.

Siren Song

antiq-uarian:

She began to work at her own portion. Nodding along as the others spoke.

“Smart, maybe use your shield to shine in her eyes. That’ll stun her for awhile.”

She said just before eating more. Tactics was something Rosai tried to encourage in her parties. Thinking smarter is how you stay alive in this hell. Plus she liked to keep her mind sharp when she was in these mind numbing places anyways. Something besides “hit this thing” or “slice here” to keep aware.

“I heard she usually picks someone based off a certain trait but… I can’t for the life of me remember what it is. Sorry.”

She then turned to Toustain and rose a brow, gently taking some of the water from the vestal and dipping her finger in it. Pulling it out and rubbing her fingers together as if she was seeing if anything was in it. She furrowed her brows.

“Thank you but I’ll pass.”

It was just water. That’s all. She wasn’t a person who believed in such things anyway. She then gave the hellion a look. Sighing. She knew though that Toustain’s faith was what powered her, so she wasn’t going to rag against it.

“I see no reason either. Quinn can protect me, and Olivier can protect you as normal. We shall be fine.”

“That is.. your choice.” Toustain doesn’t want to force the woman to drink if she will not do so. her lips set a bit of a line, but she won’t say anything further. After all, it is not her place to order people about. She can worry all she likes, but she won’t be a tyrant. She just hopes that the decision doesn’t come back to haunt them later.

Quinn shrugs. “Sure, it will do absolutely nothing, but it’ll do the little one some good. It’s just water. Fine to drink.” Toustain sags just a little bit more, but she’s comforted that at very least the hellion would drink it. Olivier just rolls up the map, tucking it into the front pocket of his pack.

“We should get some rest. Challenges await us ahead.”

Toustain concurs with a quick nod. “Of course.”

The fire is doused with the pouring of water, and heads are laid to rest.

And in the morning… the halls are damp as always, the dripping sound of saltwater echoing in the halls. Toustain’s hair smells greasier than usual when she puts her wrap around her head and puts up her hood, but it’s endurable. What isn’t nearly as endurable is the growing stench of fish and salt that grows stronger with every passing step. “Must be getting close,” she says, holding a sleeve over her nose.

#rp #reblog #thelightprevails #siren songs

Rosai couldn’t help but frown. She felt bad but didn’t really think it’d help her at all. She fiddled with her headscarf nervously as she thought about how the vestal must of felt. She scrunched her nose up and sighed.

“I guess a sip couldn’t hurt.”

She said gently waiting for the hellion to finish her own portion before taking the bottle and consuming the liquid herself. Yep, the hellion was right, just plain old water. She then looked up when Oliver spoke. Nodding softly. She pulled off her scarf and hood, using them as a makeshift pillow and laying down.

When the morning came she was hard to rouse groggy and not fully awake. She sighed as they trekked on after getting dressed once more. The salty air filling their lungs as they went on, Rosai loathed it, she lit her censer to muffle the horrid smells and kept going. They all eventually reached the door, they could all hear muffled singing on the other side, it seemed to unsettle Rosai the most.

“Well... lets get going.”

@antiq-uarian said: “Are my legs still there? I can’t feel them.”

The salty damp air that accompanied the Cove always made the nights bitterly cold, but to Prescott it was partially welcomed seeing as he’d grown up in a much colder climate than the Hamlet often was. Still he could empathize with the other’s not enjoying it as much and coupled with fact that everyone was a bit worse for wear after this mission, there was a room to complain. “If you need to be carried, I can offer my aid.” It wasn’t exactly clear on whether he was joking or not, seeing as his humor was typically very dry and deadpan.

#rp #reblog #direhunting #cold cold waters #( hello! )

She loathed the wetness of the Cove, it always clung to her clothes and made her feel all cold and soggy. It had eventually just began numbing out her legs completely, she felt miserable. Her body ached and she had many, many scrapes and scars from the battles in the damp cold Cove. She had been squeezing out some water from her skirt as she chortled out that sentence, half joking. She really couldn’t feel her legs at this point. She then looked up at his offer.

“Oh! I uh- if it gets that bad I’ll let you know, for now it’s just... everything’s wet and cold, I’m not used to these surroundings yet.”

Siren Song

thelightprevails:

antiq-uarian:

She was rather pleased with her team and how they handled the mission. No one really got hurt, they were all very calm almost the whole time, nothing too stressful happened, and they found plenty, plenty of loot to take back to the hamlet. She was excited to sort through the gold like a child on hallows eve, organizing their candy.

They had managed to scout ahead to the next room, the creature that they had been searching for waited ahead. Rosai quietly meditated while the others chat. Barely even listening, staying calm, serene, keeping the facade. Seemingly muttering a mantra to herself.

“The calmest of the temples prepare for hardships with this mantra.”

-50% Stress DMG (4 combats)

She was only snapped out of the daze at the sound of the vestal speaking to her. She blinked a few times and hummed.

“I’ve seen people do it, I’ve never done it myself but I can try.”

She grabbed the stick from the fire and went to work, trying to do her best to separate the bones from the meat. She thought it ironic that the caretaker packed them fish for this mission. Cruel irony. She did alright for her first fillet, smiling at herself proudly and distributing the food to the other three.

“So, what’s the battle plan everyone?”

Olivier takes his share of the fish, setting it on the tin plate holding down a corner of the map. “Setting off on the morning, just after dawn when the sun’s high enough to reach into the cove. Attack from the west, here- make her look at the sun. Get the sight advantage.”

“That’s rather clever,” Toustain comments. She hadn’t been on a team like this before - usually tactics were limited to “stay behind me” or “hit that one there”. Little to no time was put forward for considering the terrain, or the time.

The older gentleman strokes his beard. “I’ve heard rumors that she’s inclined to enchanting mercenaries, making them fight one another. Do we have any stay against that?”

“I’ve brought consecrated water to drink, to bless us,” Toustain says. “It should keep out minds and hearts on the battle.”

Quinn grins a bit at the implication, leaning towards the fire. “A bit of water can’t save you from attraction! You’re foolish, sister. Well meaning, of course! But foolish. Is this why priests are always trying to drown themselves in the stuff?” The hellion leans back against her bedroll with a laugh loud enough to shake driftwood from the shore, taking a share of the fish from Rosai. She crunches her way through the scales, much to Toustain’s chagrin.

“We’ll see,” the vestal replies. She looks to Rosai. “as far as our… order…?”

“Formation,” Olivier’s gruff addition cuts through the air.

“-Formation. It seems to be working rather well. I see no need to change it.” The vestal takes her share from Rosai, saying a soft thank you.