Breathing in Starlight
ivoryribcage: ??????
She didn’t know the lands her brother had left the jungles of Malatra for. Only that he and his companions had chosen to travel the northwestern trade route that’d been responsible for bringing their father to their mother. For some time countless letters detailing his travels and presents he thought favorable had poured into the home, but it seemed the more seasons that passed since his departure, the less often a courier with an overburdened satchel could be found requesting access to their courts. Then the last of the letters – the last of his familiar scrawl she would read in three years – came. It was such words she read again to herself in silence by the dancing light of her cantrip.
These northern lands were not made to house the delicate constitution of a woman that had spend the better part of her childhood in warm, tropical climates. It’d been months after the fact – two and a half since she’d found herself setting foot in Neverwinter – and yet in the cold she continued to tremble like a frightened rabbit as she returned the faded letter to its sleeve. It was a lackluster comfort: the thought that soon enough she’d warm her bones. Her lantern-like orbs of light snuffed from life as she stood to maneuver a path through the gathering of the restless guardsmen. She sought in their numbers one particular individual: The Spellbreaker.
Captain Montrose’s description proved accurate. She’d spoken some of the stranger and his deeds, but tales didn’t compare to the intimidating figure the man himself cut. She hesitated as she became at once aware of how little of herself belonged here. “Spellbreaker.” Her voice when she spoke the alias was delicate, but a certain edge of weariness carried in the subtle accent of her mother. She waited for a flicker of acknowledgment. “Captain Montrose sent me. She believes I’ll be of some use tonight.” It was a price that had to be paid, but Captain Montrose was at least good for her word. “My name is Veata Aydelotte. I’ve had some basic ranger training, but I fare much better as a wizard.”
“You’re dressed AWFULLY inappropriately for a place such as this.”
THE FIERY PIT was unpleasant even in proper armor. SCORCHING FLAMES & ash came in billows and the stones on the eastern end of the lands didn’t do much to alleviate that pressure of heat. HE HAD suspected that in his venturing out into the DWARVEN CONTROLLED lands near Gauntlegrym he would be tasked with some form of AID from outside force. Though in truth the man cared little for the favor of OTHERS. Montrose was doing her best ( as many in fight against the cult of the eternal flame were ). AND THAT VILE BITCH VANIFER only served to further frustrate his efforts to make a difference.
HE TURNS partly, stoic expression and somewhat piercing gaze unintentionally setting a precedent for his general nature as a man. But he digresses from such thoughts as he tilts his head and blinks a few times trying to discern what kind of trouble would warrant the aid of a MAGIC USER. He wasn’t always keen on such things considering the relatively unpleasant encounters he’s generally found ( SAVE MONA, perhaps ).
“I suspected that the numbers would grow, yes. Captain Montrose had mentioned she was hoping to recruit some new members to aid in the fight against the CULT. I tried to assure her that her worry was illspent but it seems she’s going to worry either way.”
SUCH WAS apparent in the nature of good leaders. NOT PARALYZING FEAR, but worry. Worry for the safety of their lands and the safety of their people. RHYGNAR had made himself ‘expendable’ so that fewer Neverwinter natives would be at risk but now it seemed they pulling out all STOPS if they were sending a non-native member of Protector’s Enclave into the fray.