The laughter was cacophonous and as thick as the red color upon the young boy’s face. He scrambled to pull himself up to his feet and brush himself free of the Gyr Abanian dust all at once, though little could be done to assuage the sting of looking the fool after claiming that his fence wouldn’t have any trouble holding in the aldgoats kept by some of the ranchers in the village.
Let alone the fact that he had been paid by one of said rancher; Agi.
“Wha’s that about yer fence, eh?” A boy jeered with a nasty grin on his fact, “Not sure I heard ya the first time, Sharkie.”
Barengar could only hear ringing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to cut lose and swing wide at the mocking tone, but he knew that he was on thin ice today that he couldn’t afford to break. There’d already been a rash of scuffles in the village thanks to his particular brand of hotheadedness and the parents were starting to tire a bit of his combative nature.
Normally he wouldn’t give a damn, but he needed to be here for now. It was where he could get food, water, and shelter for Bertram. That’s what was important.
“Don’t listen to him.” The quiet voice off to his side called, knowing full well what was going on in the bullheaded youth’s mind, “We’ll catch them and get them back inside the pasture.”
Bertram offered his older brother a soft, boyish smile in reassurance before looking back at the destroyed fence.
“But I don’t think you can use fallen branches and hope they’ll keep in a nanny, Ren…”
RP Log: Cravs bets that Bertram can’t outrun a chocobo.
Cravendy Hound - Cravs hadn’t remembered to exchange contact information with Windy, which made treating the fellow to drinks hard to follow up on. But she was a daily sight at Gridania’s local bars, and she figured that eventually, the two of them would cross paths again. Already moderately inebriated, the sea wolf leans back on her stool and rests her feet against the table. Balancing precariously on one chair leg, she brings a bottle up to her lips and takes a hearty chug.
Bertram Windshadow was -- for better or worse -- a pretty frequent haunt of the various small villages and outposts in the Shroud. He enjoyed being out in the depths of the forest and was generally only inclined to return when he was in need of something to drink or eat. That or sleep. On this particular occasion he'd been out doing some foraging before deciding to take a break in his efforts to prize a small flower away from a slumbering morbol.
Bertram Windshadow made his way into the Druthers with his attention upon a satchel of fresh herb cuttings before looking up to see a familiar face. He blinks. "Cravs?"
Cravendy Hound struggles to focus on whoever has just said her name. She squints through a drunken fog, eventually making out blonde hair. A man...probably. And an eyepatch? Maybe Windshadow - or was it Windshade? Cravs shifts back forward and braces her elbows against her knees as she slovenly waves the guest over to sit at the table.
Cravendy Hound: “Over ‘ere, afore the seat gets old...I mean, cold.” She hiccups, and looks especially pleased.
Bertram Windshadow lifts his brow slightly as he resecures the satchel to his side and makes his way over to the offered seat. Had she been expecting him? How on Hydaelyn did she know that he was going to be here? Regardless, he shook off the thought and made his way over to join the woman that was not quite a stranger. "A pleasant surprise, huh?" He says with a quiet laugh while he gets seated, "What brings you out here?"
Cravendy Hound: “Brings me out ‘ere? I’m ‘ere whenever I can find the time,” she admits, speech slightly slurred. She slides the open bottle that she had been drinking out of earlier over to Bertram. “Ye can find me wherever there’s good drink to be ‘ad.”
Cravendy Hound smells freshly cut greens, and glances over to her companion’s pouch of herbs. She purses her lips together and makes a couple of circles with her hand, loose at the wrist. “Wh...Whassat for. Pickin’ flowers for someone? Heh heh...”
Bertram Windshadow: "That's a busy schedule ..." He muses quietly with a gently amused expression on his face. He certainly seemed tickled by the thought. He pauses a moment -- in the midst of pouring himself a *very* reserved drink -- to glance at the satchel of cuttings and then back to Cravendy. "Something like that." He laughs softly, "Some herbs for a friend. They helped me out with some of the bites that I got from your buzzing friends the other day."
Cravendy Hound: “That’s kind of them...kind of ye too, to ‘elp out with those bugs in the first place.” Cravs gives him a wide grin, followed by a few friendly pats on his shoulder. “I jus raid the medicine cabinets in the clinic after stuff like this, but yer not part of a mercenary company, are ye? Ye can always ask me to, er, -borrow- some supplies for ye.”
Bertram Windshadow takes the pats upon his shoulder steadily. It seems like he's not all so unused to the strong sort of camaraderie. He lets out another quiet laugh as he takes a small sip of his only partially full cup. It was *exactly* drinking hours for him yet but ... he didn't want to appear ungrateful. "Well that's real kind of *you* to offer, Cravs." He bobs his head to the side, "And, no, I'm not. I'm a bit of a ... uh ... freelancer, I guess? My friend does mercenary work though."
Cravendy Hound raises a brow. “Oh, they’re a mercenary too? Maybe I know ‘em...what’re they like?”
Cravendy Hound hears a ‘kweh’ coming from the stables in front of the bar, and suddenly remembers Windy’s claim that he can outrun a chocobo. She quickly gets up and nearly loses her balance. Thankfully, her hands find the side of the drinking table, and she’s able to stabilize herself. “Wait, save that thought. Heheh, remember what ye said last time? ‘Eres a clue - it involves big, yellow horsebos.”
Bertram Windshadow: "Oh, they're an old fr--" His answer is cut off short by Cravendy's sudden notice of the nearby chocobos. Bertram is almost ready to catch her as she wobbles but she's able to steady herself. He blinks before following her attention in the direction of the chocobo with a quiet laugh. "Oh ... I suppose I did make a somewhat bold claim, didn't I?"
Cravendy Hound ‘s grin only continues to widen. “Let’s make a bet. I’ll ride a chocobo to Camp Tranquil’s aetheryte, and ye’ll go on foot. Whoever gets there first wins the pool. Letss see...” With one free hand, she digs into her pockets and finds them woefully empty. Damnit, she had already emptied them on an earlier wager. “Bugger me, ‘aven’t got a gil on me at the moment. ‘Ow about an aye-owe-ye...half of what ye earn on yer next job?”
Bertram Windshadow glances between Cravendy and the chocobos several times before laughing quietly and rubbing the back of his neck. "Well ... alright. I can't see the harm in that." He pauses, focusing his attention upon Cravendy now."Though, I have to be honest ... I don't exactly make a lot of gil regularly."
Cravendy Hound: “Pwah, it’s fine. That’s the beauty of a debt...ye don’t ‘ave to pay right away,” Cravs answers, as she then stumbles over to the chocobo stables. As she heads out, the alehouse proprietor calmly adds a few lines to the bottom onto her tab and closes her out for the night. Though not one to pay right away, Cravs would eventually return to chip away at what she owed. An unspoken agreement between the owner and the customer.
Cravendy Hound saddles a chocobo and loosely holds onto its reins.
Bertram Windshadow watches at Cravendy hurries out from the establishment, a look of quiet shock upon his face before glancing over to the owner. He gives a somewhat apologetic smile before getting up and following the roegadyn outside. He steps up just as Cravendy is getting settled upon her 'bo, looking up with a thoughtful expression. "That's a good looking 'bo you've got there."
Cravendy Hound - The chocobo, dressed in an adorable yellow raincoat, kwehs nervously at Bertram while Cravs leans forward to hug its neck. “Hrngh...it. Came this way. Nnnyway, ye need to stretch or somethin’, Windy? Don’t want ye pullin’ a muscle, shit ‘urts.”
Bertram Windshadow bobs his head from side to side with a light smile, "I'm all good here, I think. I've gotten all warmed up from runnin' around foraging today. I shouldn't be in too much risk of hurting myself." He steps over and gives the 'bo a gentle pat on the wing before looking over in the direction of the Camp Tranquil. "All the way to Camp Tranquil then?" He looks up to Cravendy for confirmation.
Cravendy Hound - The chocobo abruptly jumps and ruffles its feathers upon being pet, and Cravs is thrown back into the saddle. With a pained expression, she rubs at the small of her back, kneading circles with her knuckle. “Camp Tranquil, aye. Alright, well, on the count of three! One...two...”
(Cravendy Hound) should we actually race >:D tho chocobo is too fast, I'd need some kind of handicap ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahaha! That could be fun! Though I'm not sure what handicap would work. Hrmm ..."
(Cravendy Hound) we can use the timer thing xD ))
(Cravendy Hound) hmmm ))
(Cravendy Hound) I could just run further, and take the bridge up to Camp Tranquil from the Lower Paths ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Oooh! A head start? ))
(Cravendy Hound) head start also works!! ))
(Cravendy Hound) bert magic headstart xD ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( I'm good with whatever! I'll follow your lead! ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( He's quick! And magic! ))
(Cravendy Hound) ahaha ))
(Cravendy Hound) lets do me running further, that way we can start together :D ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Sounds good! Where's the finish line for me!? ))
(Cravendy Hound) camp tranquil aetheryte! finish for both of us :D ))
(Cravendy Hound) I'm just taking a longer path ))
(Bertram Windshadow) Got it!! ))
(Cravendy Hound) you take whatever path you want xD ))
(Cravendy Hound) alright gonna start a timer........ ))
Bertram Windshadow begins to focus and his silhouette seems to blur. Like he's difficult to look at.
(Cravendy Hound) xD ))
(Cravendy Hound) that was fun! ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahaha! Very fun! ))
Bertram Windshadow comes to a skidding stop just before the large aetheryte crystal! As he does so an errant breeze seems to follow in behind him. Once he's to a complete stop he glances around to see what the results were!
Cravendy Hound - And on the count of three, they’re off! Cravs screams, and holds onto dear life as her steed sprints forward. The scream slowly gets quieter as the chocobo and rider disappear into the forest. When Bertram arrives, he would see Crav’s bird arrive just seconds before. But it arrives...alone. Kweh! :3
Bertram Windshadow blinks several times, "Cravs?" He glances around, searching for the bird's rider, raising his voice slightly, "Cravs?!"
Cravendy Hound - There’s no immediate response. Meanwhile, the chocobo hustles over to Bertram and stares at his blond locks. After a cautious pause, it then cranes its neck and begins to nibble at his hair. If it looks like hay...
Cravendy Hound - Having fallen off early, Cravs is on the ground halfway to Camp Tranquil. She drags herself out of a bush, dazed and confused.
Bertram Windshadow makes absolutely zero effort to stop the chocobo. In fact he seems to continue on like nothing weird -- like hay hair -- was happening at all. "Craaaaavs?!" He calls out, starting to wander his way to the edge of the platform. Hopefully his hair was at least good tasting.
(Cravendy Hound) im losing it aahhahah >:D ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahahaha. I lost it at his hair looking like hay. I can't unsee it now. ))
Cravendy Hound - The chocobo spits out Bertram’s hair, deciding, no! It may look like hay, but it tastes nothing but. It chooses to follow him around as he goes over to the camp’s balcony. By now, Cravs has slowly made her way to where the bridges that lead up to Camp Tranquil begin. She just barely hears him call out to her and, as a speck in the distance, waves back. Muffled and nearly inaudible, she yells: “I’M OKAY.”
Bertram Windshadow tilts his head to the side, straining to hear Cravendy's distant reply. There was a moment of relief in his gut as he turns to look at the chocobo, patting them gently upon the neck. "She's okay." He offers quietly to the chocobo that abandoned Cravs in the first place. "Come on, let's go meet her." He then makes his way down the platforms toward Cravendy.
Cravendy Hound leans forward against the bridge’s post, looking exhausted. Drunk + bumpy ride + falling off = a whole ton of regret. She didn’t even get a good look at Bertram running! He just sort of became a blur - but was that the alcohol affecting her vision, or reality? No matter. Cravs pushes off of the wood post and tries to stand by herself, but can’t quite find her balance. For now, she kneels down on one knee as the world spins around her. “Blergh...”
Cravendy Hound: “...did ye get there first?”
Bertram Windshadow steps up close, leaning over Cravendy for a moment to make sure that she's okay before reaching out and offering a hand to the woman so that he could help her to her feet. "Not quite, no." He laughs softly, shaking his head. "Your 'bo beat me by a few seconds. They're a speedy one, you're quite lucky!" He looks over to the chocobo with a smile. "I also think they're hungry."
Cravendy Hound takes his hand and pulls herself up. She grunts in thanks. “Rather have a ‘bo that can keep me on its back...Ow!” The chocobo pecks right at the top-center of Crav’s head, as if it were following the conversation somehow. She rubs her head and gives it a dirty look.
Cravendy Hound: “Ye know, technically speakin’...the chocobo got first, ye got second, and I got disqualified. ‘Ow are we gonna resolve that? Bird gets the winnin’s?” She notes, chuckling.
Bertram Windshadow laughs softly as the chocobo injects with its indignant peck upon Cravendy's head. He bobs his head from side to side as he considers the situation. "Sounds to me like I owe the 'bo a nice meal."
Cravendy Hound lets out an amused snort. “Hah! Aye, aye...To the winner, goes the spoils.” She shakes her head in disbelief as her chocobo chirps happily. Two special meals, oh! Happy days!
Bertram Windshadow grins slightly and dips his head forward, glancing over to the chocobo as it makes the joyful chirp. "Well ... shall we then? We can get you all brushed off too ..." He glances over Cravendy before laughing quietly.
Bertram Windshadow grins slightly and dips his head forward, glancing over to the chocobo as it makes the joyful chirp. "Well ... shall we then? We can get you all brushed off too ..." He glances over Cravendy before laughing quietly.
Cravendy Hound feels her expression hardening to her usual frown, but after a second, it falls away to laughter. “One trip to the chocobo stalls, to give ‘im a meal...and give myself a brushin’. Let’s.” She turns to walk back up the path to Buscarron’s Druthers - the start and end to a reckless but fun evening.
Bertram arrives within the Heartwood clinic with all of the silence that one would expect for a man with the epithet 'Windshadow'. Of course, it wasn't precisely polite to go sneaking around unannounced in proper company, so Bertram produced a quick pair of raps upon the door as he slipped through. He took a moment to glance around the room in search for who might be present. He'd been told that he could find Aislinn here but he was still uncomfortable removing his visor in unfamiliar company.
Aislinn appeared to be in the middle of something that took a good portion of her concentration. She stood at the stove, her back to the door. Spread across the clinic's counters were a variety of jars that stored everything from herbs to aethersand and perhaps even an animal part or two. Currently, she was flipping between two open recipe books with one hand while the other continually stirred a mixture that was simmering in a double boiler on the stove.
At the sound of someone knocking, her expression cleared and she glanced over her shoulder. "Bertram." she greeted, albeit a bit absently. "Alright, there?"
"Keeping myself together in one piece." He answered with a subtle smile, a hand rising up to rub at the back of his neck idly before his attention shifted to the work that Aislinn was doing at the bench. His hand shifted from his neck to his visor as he moved. There's a quiet 'click' as he removes the device from his face and focuses his good eye upon the various reagents. "You certainly seem ... busy?" He then turns his attention back to Aislinn with a slightly risen brow.
"One piece is always preferable." she nodded, her hand never pausing in the stirring of the pot. "Ahh..." she looked back to the accoutrements she had spread out across the counter. "Just...trying a new potion." she said blithely. Perhaps a touch too blithe, to be honest. "But once it's done simmering it has to sit awhile, so not too terribly busy. You've caught me near the end."
Bertram nodded his head slowly, his attention shifting back to the potion-in-progress with a curious expression. "Is it ... for anything in particular ..." his attention flicks back to Aislinn, "... or is it just some exploratory alchemy?" He offers the woman a light smile.
Aislinn paused at the question, reaching up to brush away a wayward strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes. She considered and immediately discarded half a dozen lies she could have told him. In light of certain events that would have made quite the hypocrite of her.
"I'm still having a bit of trouble. With..." she trailed off, tapping a finger against her breastbone. "That issue I told you about earlier. Those attacks that make me feel like I might burn up from the inside out. It hasn't happened half as much since...well, since we dealt with all the Red Argos business but it's still there." she was quiet a moment as she stopped stirring the concoction and moved the pot off the stove to cool. "It's a bother." she said simply though that was certainly downplaying the issue. "So I'm trying this to see if it helps or not."
Bertram furrowed his brow slightly as Aislinn explains the purpose of the concoction. The man glances off to the side for a moment as he takes in a slow breath and then he's back to leveling his attention upon the pot. "It's ... not getting worse, is it?" He asked, sounding noticeably concerned, "Do you have theories as to what it might be that's causing it?"
Setting down the whisk she had been using, she takes up a towel from the rack and wipes her hands. "It...doesn't happen as often but...it feels as though it's become more intense." Again, an understatement. The other night she been crippled by it, unable to rise from the rug in her room until it had passed.
She busied herself with cleaning up the open jars, screwing the tops back on and moving to place them back on the shelves. As though if she just kept moving it would make the subject loom that much less in her mind. "Not as easy to shake off. But..." Theories. She had a few. Though that would require regaling Bertram with tales of what had happened to her while living in Ul'dah and she was less than inclined to do such a thing. "I don't really know. Nothing concrete. Though if this doesn't work I was thinking I would go and see the monks."
Bertram slowly turns his attention toward Aislinn as she offers up her back-up solution. It was, of course, easy to see the concern within his expression. Though that wasn't necessarily a surprise given the circumstances. "... do you think the Fist's'll have the answers?" He asked quietly, a bit like a dolt. Of course she did Bertram, why would she go otherwise? He cleared his throat and shook his head, side glancing to the cooling pot. "If there's anything I can do for you in that regard ...I'll do whatever I can."
Aislinn finished wiping down the counter. At those particular words, her lips compressed a moment in a flat line before she managed a tight smile she didn't feel. She flicked the towel at him before hanging it back over the rack. "It's the monks. I think I can remember my way there, I'll be fine." she said, neatly declining his offer. With a sigh, she settled against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. "But you came by the clinic for a reason of your own, didn't you?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.
Bertram lifted his hands up in a faux-defensive gesture as the towel is flicked in his direction. A quiet laugh and bow of his head conceding to her point. "You're ... right of course. You usually are." He clears his throat, "But, all the same, I just want to make sure you know I've got your back if you need it." There's a pauses as she turns the questioning around on him. "Yes ... well ... I was hoping to find some ointments for ..." He looks embarrassed, "Bug bites?"
She gave a single, non-committal nod in reply to his assertion that he would be there if she needed. But as he explained his true purpose for stopping by, her face became more expressive as she raised a skeptical brow. "What sort of bug bites? Let me see."
"I ... ah ... midges, I think?" He tries to offer though he seems entirely unsure about that situation. "I honestly didn't get a very good look at them." He lets out a quiet, nervous laugh as he shakes his head and lifts up an arm and begins to roll back a sleeve. And ... sure enough, the arms is peppered with a small constellation of angry looking red dots. Nothing life threatening, of course, but ... boy did it look uncomfortable.
Aislinn leaned forward and took a look at his arm. It was indeed, a right mess. Pushing herself off the counter, she carefully took hold of it and peered a bit closer at the bites. "Nymeia's Blood, Bertram, did you go for a joy-walk through a swamp?" she tsked. Releasing his arm, she turned for the cabinets that lined the clinic's counter and began rifling through the various pots and jars located within.
"Luckily, we're a fully stocked clinic. No telling what the members of Heartwood are going to get themselves into. Always best to try and prepare for a little bit of everything."
Bertram was quick to clear himself out of Aislinn's way as she set course for the cabinet behind him. He couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh as he swapped ends of the bench with Aislinn. "Just a bit of good samaritan work ... though I might have gone a bit overboard ... given the circumstances."
"Sometimes folk forget that the Elementals are always watching out here. Even if they aren't as potent as before."
"Well, no good deed goes unpunished." Aislinn murmured as she pulled a porcelain blue salve jar from the cabinet. She paused, her hand gripping the wide cork top, as though she just realized what she said. With a shake of her head and a soft snort, she continued, pulling the lid from the salve and giving it a whiff. "This is it." re-corking the jar, she turned and held it out to him. "Was it worth it? The good Samaritan work?"
Bertram laughs quietly at Aislinn's first comment, his head bobbing to the side amusedly before accepting the jar with a grateful smile. His brow furrows slightly at the question that she left him with as he lifts the jar to get a whiff himself. "I'm not sure I'd be a very good 'good samaritan' if I went around judging people I help like that." He teased quietly before taking a sample size of the salve and beginning to spread it on a small patch on his arm in test. "But ... they seemed like a nice enough person. Just seemed a bit ... new to the area, honestly. They were grateful at the very least."
Aislinn tilted her head, seeing that he had missed her point. "Not asking you to judge them, but I'm glad it all seemed to end up well enough. Aside from the run-in with the midges. The Elementals seem a bit touchy lately. That or there are quite a few more people than normal wandering the Shroud who are new to the area."
Bertram blinks quietly at the opening to her response, looking a bit caught off guard and suddenly second guessing what she meant from before. He gets caught up in his mind for a prolonged moment before clearing his throat, "... oh, yeah. Seems like there're more people that usual out and about. Maybe refugees?" He glanced off to the side again before looking down to his arm. He wasn't positive but the salve certainly seemed to be doing the trick. It was a distinct relief. "You're running into folks running awry of the Elementals too?"
"Maybe refugees." she nods in agreement. Leaning over the stove, she checked in on her cooling pot of potion and tested it by shaking the pot gently by the handle. Not quite ready. "But Cravendy apparently had a run in after some target practice of hers went awry. She says her aim still needs work. Can see how something like that might miff the Elementals." she said with a wry twist of her lips. "I may have possibly been chased out for that a time or two back when I was new."
Bertram laughs quietly and shakes his head, idly poking at the bites that he had covered in the salve; testing to see if they would be easily re-aggravated into itchiness. Fortunately the medicine seemed to be doing an *excellent* job. "They ... definitely aren't exactly used to gunfire being anything other than overtly hostile in ninety percent of cases, that's ... probably true." He looks back up at Aislinn with a grateful smile, "This seems to be doing the job."
Bertram gives a slightly wry smile. "Maybe there should be a class."
Aislinn gave a pleased smile as he informed her the salve was working. Then a short laugh. "A 'Welcome to Gridania, Mind the Elementals' Class?" she shrugged. "Suppose it wouldn't hurt. Not sure Cravendy would have paid attention though."
Bertram bobs his head to the side slightly, "Yeah, something like that ..." He pauses as Aislinn further explains Cravendy's unlikelihood of actively benefiting from it. He can be shake his head gently with a soft amusement. "A bit of a stubborn streak then?"
In reply to his question she let go another brief laugh but this one lit up her whole face with amusement. "A bit of an understatement, that." she shook her head. "Though I suppose I'm not really one to talk." she tossed a knowing look his way that said she knew he'd agree with her.
Bertram cannot contain that easy and gentle laugh the rose up from his lungs as she gave him the pointed look. Once he'd managed to find more rein upon his faculties he gave a conceding dip of his head to her point. "Well ... if there's anything that I have a lot of experience with, Lin, it's being around stubborn personalities." He gave Aislinn a pointed look in turn. She and Barengar might be two different brands of stubborn, but ... they were *definitely* stubborn. "Maybe I'd have some luck if I taught the class."
One corner of her lips pulled upward at that. "Probably save yourself any more problematic bug bites from all that good samaritan work if you did." once again, she reached over and checked the pot. It had appeared to have settled into a consistency she was satisfied with and she reached for an empty potion jar from the shelves. "Go ask the Adders, I'm sure they're tired of rescuing people as well. They'd probably let you do it if it ended up saving them some work."
Bertram suddenly looks as though he might *actually* be seriously considering the idea that he had initially brought up as a joke. He blinked several times before looking at Aislinn with a decent measure of surprise. And then a quiet laugh as he silently talks his himself down ... for the time being. "Maybe ..." he grins slightly, "... I probably do with a more steady living situation than being an transient in the forest. I ... can admit to that."
Aislinn tilted her head from one side to the other as if considering his point. "So, start with that. Unless you're enjoying the transient life in which case I'm sure you could still convince them of your merits." she poured the potion carefully into the jar and held it up, carefully giving it a final swirl before corking it. Setting the jar aside, she picked up the pot and scooted around him to place it in the sink at his back.
"Perhaps ..." He murmurs thoughtfully, quietly shifting and moving out of Aislinn's way again as he goes about applying more of the salve to his arms. He gives her a curious look that was saddled with a touch of anticipation. "Did it ... turn out alright?" He asks in regards to the potion.
Aislinn glanced over at the jar in question, the deep blue liquid growing darker the longer it cooled. "Maybe. Won't really know until I'm in need of it." She tried not to let on how apprehensive that made her.
Bertram attempted to do the very same. There was a certain discomfort in not knowing if something you were counting on saving you ... just doesn't. The rich blue liquid remains within his gaze for several moments. He'd just have to have faith in Aislinn's formulas. It was about all he could do in this case. He looks back to Aislinn with a quiet smile, putting on his best brave face, "I'm sure it'll help."
"Is there anything that I can do to help around here?" He asks as he begins to roll his sleeves back down. "Seems ... only fair for using your guys' salve." He manages a warm smile.
Aislinn nodded in the face of his assertion that her potion would work but her hand wandered up to her neck, fingers pressing against the dip in her throat. A worried gesture. "At the very least, I'm certain it won't kill me. So there's that." she said as she let go a breath and a half-hearted laugh. Turning to look around the clinic, she considered his request. "Well..." she began thoughtfully. "I noticed we were running low on some herbs. Maybe you've seen enough of the Shroud for awhile but if you're up for it, you could help me restock?"
Bertram does his best to keep on that convinced expression, even as the expectations were brought down to a rather *bare* minimum in his eyes. As Aislinn mused upon how he might be able to return help for help proffered he gave an eager nod of his head. "I think I'd like that quite a bit." He glances toward one of the windows, "I honestly find wandering around out there to be ... pretty calming."
Aislinn inhaled a breath and, upon realizing what she was doing, quickly dropped her hand from her throat. "Right. Let me get changed and then we can go." She picked up the jar off the counter and made her way for the door. "Take the salve with you. Bring it back once the bites are gone." she said over her shoulder. "I'll meet you outside in a few."
Bertram offers Aislinn a small smile before nabbing his visor and 'clicking' it back into place. One he's tucked the jar of salve away he follows behind the woman on the way out of the clinic. "I'll be ready when you are, Lin," he offers with a gentle bob of his head before pausing, "and thanks."
Aislinn waved his thanks off as she passed through the door. "Of course. What else is a clinic for?"
He’d been free from the influence of the man for turns now. For turns now he’d had free reign over his own thoughts. There was the freedom to be whoever he wanted to be, to be wherever he wanted to be. The choice to resume a life that had been stolen away from him so cruelly. Yet he always found himself back here. Nowhere.
Nowhere was always a different place but there was also a common theme; he was isolated. He was searching, seeking, hunting, collecting, vanishing, deducing, but he was never living. It was becoming clear to him that he did not know how to live in a world that he knew he shared with that man. That monster.
How could he consider resuming the life that he once had when, somewhere in the shadows, he lurked with the capacity to unravel it all once again. How hollow the victory over his villainy feels when one cannot even bring themselves to treasure what has been returned to them. It burned a hole in his core that he couldn’t seem to extinguish.
He tried his best to be present. To place himself in the company of those that had missed him for so long. So that they could have the loved one they lost back in their lives. It was a feeling he felt with such earnest desire, to be with them again. His family. To be a part of their new families.
Yet, even on the best of days, he felt like a ghost. A shade of the man he now remembered being. A shadow in the wake of the silent wind.
It was strange how some aspects of himself had persisted so boldly even when he was robbed of his agency. It was always the small, simple traits that he now recalled unerringly continuing throughout what he could only describe as an alternate life. If you could even call what it was a life. It was the way he always seemed to drum his fingers along his thigh when anxious. It was the way that he consistently felt the need to double-triple check that he’d properly performed a task before letting himself move on.
And, most acutely, his desire to as high in the air as he could manage.
It has been that way for as long as he could remember. The moment the world felt overwhelming and more than he could handle he’d find himself perched upon a precarious ledge that would have made most uneasy. A boon of his particularly nimble hands and feet. Be it the top of a building or the edge of a isolated peak, he found a certain peace and comforting isolation in the altitude. He felt so removed from everything.
Up there everything that threatened him, everything that challenged him, everything that frightened him felt so far away.
Even in the harrowing turns he spent as a tool in the grasp of a madman, he sought the isolation that height could bring. A fact that continued to be true as he — at this very moment — found himself sitting upon the edge of rocky cliff over looking a coastal town somewhere on the western coast of Ilsabard. The sun had set and it was only the brightly lit moon that provided light enough to see aught from that vantage point. That and the tiny winks of lantern light within the town as the seamen caroused upon the docks.
The man unexpectedly found himself smiling as he watched the bodies move in the great distance. The between the distance and the steady churn of the ocean there was no knowing what the men were saying, but their body language spoke at a volume that overpowered it all. Friends, companions, partners savoring a moment of calm joy.
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs has sent a letter to “Windy,” asking him to meet at the Heartwood estate in order to meet a friend of hers. Of course, lacking an address, Cravs had simply handed a moogle the letter with “Windy” written on it, and had hoped that it’d somehow find its way. She waits outside, searching for that telltale tuff of blond hair.
(Cravendy Hound) And moments prior, she had told Lin that she’d be bringing over a friend of hers tonight. A mailman who delivers on foot, who can outrun a chocobo, who’s really good at fighting bugs. What Lin would think of that description...well, it was up to her.
(Bertram Windshadow) It is by the miracle that is the Moogle Mail System that a letter found its way into Bertram's hands. How convenient to couriers that 'knew what she meant'. Though when Bertram saw the address in the letter he was certainly a bit surprised. It certainly wasn't a place unfamiliar to him. At least ... he thought that was the correct address? Any doubt was quickly dispelled as he approached the ground proper, looking travel worn as ever.
(Bertram Windshadow) He hadn't set recovered from his mild confusion when he bumped into Cravendy. "... Oh! Uh ... hey there. It's good to see ya again." He pauses. "Is ... this where you work?"
(Bertram Windshadow) (( We're re-enacting the Tyler1 meme right now. ))
(Cravendy Hound) PFffFFahaha ))
(Aislinn North) Cravendy had breezed through the front library like a gust of wind moments before, explaining to Lin there was a friend she wanted her to meet and potentially sign a contract with Heartwood. Aislinn had only had time to look up from her notes and blink owlishly, a disoriented 'Alright' coming from her before Cravendy had disappeared out the front door. Aislinn shook her head. While Cravendy had all the power to had her friend a contract herself, ...
(Aislinn North) Aislinn understood that the Seawolf was still uncomfortable with her position in Heartwood. She frowned down at the report from Heartwood's informants and tried to reach a good stopping point before the company arrived.
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs waves at Bertram as he approaches. “Oy there! That’s right. Welcome to ‘eartwood.” She proudly points to the company’s gates. “I said I worked as a mercenary, didn’t I? Anyway, let me show ye around. This ‘ere is the...” She steps into the garden and begins to list off her opinions about the décor.
(Cravendy Hound) Stuff along the lines of “This tree is a nice tree. This tree is not a nice tree.”
(Aislinn North) ((I kinda want to know what quantifies a 'not nice tree' in Cravs' mind xD))
(Cravendy Hound) LOL probably if she holds a personal grudge against it...like a branch falling on her xD ))
(Aislinn North) ((That's exactly what I was thinking! It all comes down to a grudge she must hold against it!))
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram rather understands that such distinctions are important when one lives in the Shroud. You wouldn't want to wake up and have your breakfast in the shade of a *grumpy* tree. Of course, as Cravendy rather enthusiastically leads him through the gardens he isn't exactly able to find the opportunity to mention that he's been here before ... instead he just listens polite and occasionally nods ... smiling!
(Cravendy Hound) After giving Bertram a thorough tour of the garden, she finally shows him to the door. “Alright, ‘nough about the good and evil of plants and rocks. My friend should be waitin’ inside for us.” She pauses, and gives a wide grin to her guest. “I think ye’ll like ‘er. She’s...serious, but dependable.”
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram couldn't truly keep himself from starting to connect dots the longer he thought about it. Of course Bertram couldn't claim to have met all the members of Heartwood, so maybe he was mistaken, but ... things seemed to be pointing in a certain direction. "Anything that can keep up with you must be, I think." He let out a quiet chuckle, bobbing his head to the side.
(Cravendy Hound) “Heh, it’s the other way ‘round. Ask ‘er about the time we fought a giant dodo.” Cravs smirks, and then barges in.
(Aislinn North) So the mage she sought had quit Ul'dah and returned to Ishgard after the Calamity. She hung her head and let go a heavy sigh. Bloody Coerthas. Again. Just then, she heard Cravendy and her friend approaching and set the report face down on the table. Certain to clear any lingering annoyance from her face in regards to the report, she turned with a polite smile at the ready and makes her way over to them, smoothing down her skirt. ...
(Aislinn North) "Welcome to Heart-- *Bertram*" she blinked in surprise, quickly shifting her gaze between him and Cravendy. "-This- is your friend?" laughter bubbling up. "Cravendy, this is Bertram." she paused. Perhaps Cravendy didn't recall that part. Wyda would have. She shook her head. "He's an old childhood friend." she turned her attention to Bertram with a warm smile. "Alright, there?"
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram couldn't really keep a straight face as Aislinn walked up, his lips twisting into something decidedly goofy looking. The sight of Aislinn immediately put to bed any doubts regarding who Cravendy's friend was. His laughter was quick to join Aislinn's as his smile grew, dipping his head toward Aislinn in confirmation, "Got my head on my shoulders." He tilts his head to the side, still smiling, "What about you, Linn? Seems we've got a mutual friend."
(Bertram Windshadow) He glances over to Cravendy with an amused expression.
(Cravendy Hound) Looks between the two of them repeatedly, confusion growing with every iteration. “What? Ye know each other already? Wait, what?”
(Cravendy Hound) “Bugger, I can’t go round assumin’ every golden ‘aired man is Bertram. An ye didn’t tell me ‘e was wanderin’ round the Shroud!” Cravs grumbles at Lin. She then turns her ire to the man himself. “And get that smile off yer face. I thought yer name was Windy!”
(Aislinn North) "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" she nodded to Bertram, a thread of good humor still in her voice. "Windy?" laughter threatened to overtake her again but she could see Cravendy was flustered more than anything and did her best to hold it in. "Ahh...wait. So he's the one that saved you when the Shroud attacked?"
(Bertram Windshadow) He blinks several times as his mind processes that. Maybe he should have corrected her when she kept calling him Windy? It had seemed ... y'know ... 'close enough' for him. Then he's chuckling quietly at the absolutely delightful ridiculousness of the situation. "I mean ... it is. Sort of. Windshadow; it's an epithet of sorts."
(Aislinn North) "Like Ren and Armsbreaker." she added. "They're Highlander battle names." she glanced back to Bertram. "Cravendy said you were looking for work? You could have told me that."
(Cravendy Hound) “Ye should’ve! Corrected me!” Cravs grabs Bertram by the shoulder and shakes him like a maraca. “ARgh! Don’t tell me ye’ve been ‘ere afore too! Why didn’t ye stop me in the middle! Of! The garden tour!”
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Oh my *gosh*. ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Betram's going to be a few marbles short after a rattling like that! ))
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram starts to bob his head in Aislinn's direction in solidarity to her clarification before Aislinn turns the focus onto the matter of his looking for work. Of course, before he manages to say anything, Cravendy is upon him and shaking out any cobwebs that might be building up in his skull. "I'm sorry!" He calls out, though there's a certain joviality to it, "I have, I'm sorry. You got started before I could say anything and then, I don't know! it seemed like you were having a good time."
(Aislinn North) Blinked and hurriedly stepped between them in an effort to keep Bertram's senses from being rattled into oblivion. "Cravendy!" she wasn't loud by nature, but her voice held a urgent edge. "It was a simple misunderstanding, is all."
(Cravendy Hound) Lin’s intervention thankfully brings an end to the shake-egeddon. Cravs huffs, half overwhelmed with embarrassment and half winded from the effort of nearly shaking Bertram’s head loose. “Aargh, bloody bastard...And ‘ere I was, thinkin’ I was gonna bring two friends together, and it turns out they know each other better than they know me!”
(Cravendy Hound) “Anyone else wanna say somethin’ I don’t know afore I make a fool out of myself?” She groans, red faced.
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram stumbles his way back just a touch as he is released, a hand rising to his head to gives himself a steadying before looking back up to Cravendy. He sobers just a touch and offers the woman a light smile. "You did bring two friends together though. And not to mention given me all the confirmation that I'd ever need to know that you're a good sort yourself."
(Aislinn North) Let go a soft breath of relief as Cravendy mercifully releases Bertram. She glanced over at him to be sure he was alright before turning back to Cravendy with a wave of her hand. "That's only because we've had the benefit of time, nothing more. And aye, it's been awhile since we've seen each other, so you did what you set out to do." she eyed him over her shoulder with a teasing glint in her eye. "He has a tendency to disappear for Twelve knows how long. So we were due for a bit of catching up."
(Aislinn North) "Now I know he's been off racing chocobos and saving people from the Shroud, though." she looked back at him again with a deadpan look as if to say 'Racing chocobos. Really?'
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs sighs, slowly but surely recovering from the near lethal dose of embarrassment she had received seconds earlier. She grumpily rubs the space between her brows, as if kneading her head could will it to better process what was going on. “Windy, don’t tell me yer not even a mailman...”
(Aislinn North) Cleared her throat at that. "Maybe we should all go have a drink."
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram lifts a hand up, rubbing the back of his neck a bit bashfully at the teasing before collecting himself enough to give a slightly bemused shrug. It ... seemed like a good idea at the time? He didn't have a good explanation. He looks back to Cravendy as she poses the question. He looks like he's about to answer but hears Aislinn clear her throat and follows her lead. "That's sounds nice, yeah."
(Cravendy Hound) “Bah. Best idea I ‘eard all night.” Cravs goes up the stairs to where the company bar is located.
(Aislinn North) Gave another sigh and glanced at Bertram. "Well, it's good to see you again."
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram looks to Aislinn with an expression that reads as 'is she going to be alright?' before offering a light smile and following up the stairs. "It's good to see you too, Linn."
(Aislinn North) Leaned down under the bar and pulled out a pint glass before looking at Cravendy and Bertram. "Right then. What're you two having?" she asked as she poured cider from the tap.
(Bertram Windshadow) The Windshadow Riker's his way over the stool and settles himself down upon it before glancing around the bartop. "Ah ... " he skewed his lips to the side slightly before retreating to an easy answer, " ... whatever you're having there. That looks good!"
(Cravendy Hound) “I think ye should regale me with embarrassing stories from Windy’s youth. Only fair for what ‘e put me through,” Cravs says to Lin while shooting Bertram a smirk. “...As for drinks, do we ‘ave any mead left?”
(Aislinn North) ((Lol! Riker's his way. Such an apt and efficient description))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( *laughs and grins* It saves time!! ))
(Aislinn North) Nodded and pulled up another pint. Her hand settled on a wine glass but hesitated and thought of the face Cravendy would make if mead showed up in something like that. She went for a short whiskey tumbler instead. As she pours the drinks she gives Bertram a wry sidelong glance. "Embarrassing stories. I'm sure I can recall one or two. If I think hard enough." She sets the bottle of mead on the counter and then pushes all three glasses to the front of the bar before disappearing to make...
(Aislinn North) her way around front. "But tell me why you thought he was a mailman in the first place?"
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram blinks a couple times, holding up his right hand with index finger extended, before speaking. "In my defense, I didn't even know you worked here until you sent the letter." He glances down slightly, a small smile touching his lips, "But I figure it's only fair in recompense for my not correcting you about my name." He pauses again and glances to Aislinn as she asks her own question ... and then back to Cravendy. He takes a sip of cider.
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs gladly takes the drink in hand and leans against the railing. She traces the brim of glass in thought. Why -did- she think he was a mailman? She was so confident about it earlier, but now...Cravs looks at Bertram with a great deal of suspicion. What IF.
(Cravendy Hound) “Didn’t ye tell me that was yer occupation over drinks? And I could’ve sworn I brought it up a second time when ye were racin’ against my chocobo. Something about ‘ow ye run really fast to deliver mail.” There's a hint of doubt in her voice, mind racing as she questions everything she knows about the man.
(Aislinn North) Glanced between the two, entertained as she took a swallow of the crisp cider. She raised a brow in his direction. Lying wasn't something he was any good at so she knew that couldn't be it.
(Bertram Windshadow) The man furrows his brow slightly as focus turns upon him and he beings to file through his memory in search for the day that he met Cravendy, "... uh ... I think you said that I run really fast? And that I had escape tools. And suggested I was a some kind of courier?" He pauses for a moment, "But ... I think we might have miscommunicated. I ... don't really have a *job* so to speak. Even if I'm running around a lot." He clears his throat and glances away. "Sorry about that."
(Bertram Windshadow) It's his turn to look flushed now.
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs is ilms away from grabbing hold of Bertram’s shoulder and shaking more sense into him, AGAIN. But she doesn’t want to put down her drink, so instead she just facepalms with her one free hand in utter disappointment. “WINDY NO...”
(Cravendy Hound) “Is ‘e always like this? Vague and friendly?!” Cravs gives Lin a pleading look. "Well, at least the jobless part I got right."
(Aislinn North) Turned her attention to Cravendy, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Sounds like an easy mix-up." she shrugged. She glanced back to Bertram and considered Cravendy's description of him. "Friendly, aye. Vague...well, I think we're both just the quiet sort to let assumptions hang in the air." she shook her head. "Though, honestly Bertram. I wouldn't put it past Cravendy here to keep hounding you until she's found you suitable employ. She's the determined sort."
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram concealed himself -- and his blush -- within the opening of his cider. He was probably taking a longer drink than he actually wanted so that he could keep himself hidden away for a moment. It would seem he and Cravendy had swapped hotseats. He glances over to Aislinn as she offers her ... warning? A slight smile pulls at his lips before he bobs his head to the side, "I'm starting to get that impression ..."
(Bertram Windshadow) He looks back at Cravendy. "All the same. I'm sorry. I can be ... a bit cagey around new people. I'm working on it."
(Aislinn North) ((*hugs the cinnamon roll*))
(Cravendy Hound) “Only if ye want it. But with ‘ow fast ye run, ye would make a fine mailman’, and there are plenty of parcels that I need sent, no questions asked.” A smug grin crosses over her face as she senses the heat switch from her to Bertram.
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Cravendy engaged her trap card! ))
(Cravendy Hound) She leans in close to Bertram and whispers something in his ear. “Some of these could be, ah, unverbal messages. If ye catch my drift.”
(Aislinn North) Pauses, her drink halfway to her lips. "Wait...what do you mean parcels, no questions asked." she narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked over at Cravendy. Her suspicion only grows as Cravendy whispers something to him. "Cravendy, he's not going to be your runner." she stated, emphatic.
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram blinks several times at the whisper. No; he did not catch the drift. At least he didn't think he did. He passes Cravendy a somewhat bewildered look before his gaze flickers back toward Aislinn and she makes her point *very* clear. Oh. Now he was caught up in the drift alright. He remained looking a bit shell-shocked for a moment letting out a quiet laugh, his head shaking in gently bewilderment.
(Bertram Windshadow) "I ... don't know about being a *runner* ... but ... maybe some real work wouldn't be bad for me. I know Aislinn's been suggesting that I apply myself a bit more healthily for a while now and ... well ..." He glances back to Cravendy, "With a force like Cravendy out there trying to help too ... I probably should take a hint."
(Cravendy Hound) “Aw, ye ‘eard the man. He’s good at runnin’, and there’s a few people I’d like to see knocked down a peg or two.” Cravs protests, a toothy grin revealing her canines. “Pff, I wouldn’t start ye with such jobs anyway. Just some stuff to deliver to a village we’ve been helpin’ rebuild, and to ‘elp me look into some business in the east.”
(Aislinn North) Put off glaring at Cravendy to look back to Bertram with a sharp exhale. "Me saying it wasn't enough? Should have gotten Cravendy involved a lot sooner, apparently." she noted with a helpless shake of her head.
(Cravendy Hound) “Oy, e’s a grown man and can make ‘is own decisions. And if that’s runnin’ mad in the wilds, aimless and jobless and all other kinds of ‘less’, then power to ‘im.” Cravs is making assumptions. Again. She takes a sip with a smug smile.
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram offers Aislinn an apologetic expression and soft smile as he bows his head toward the woman. "We'll add it to the long list of things that you were right about ..." He murmured quietly, taking a sip of his cider again. A regular one this time. "Cravendy was just ... the tipping point." He offers in gentle tease.
(Bertram Windshadow) "But ... " He looks back to Cravendy, "If I can help with rebuilding a village I can certainly say I'd be happy to do so." There he goes. Not even asking for job details or compensation.
(Aislinn North) Makes a noise of displeasure in the back of her throat. Maybe she was sick and tired of being right after the fact. She quietly takes another swallow of cider. Or two. She'd let Cravendy give him the details of Dirtpatch.
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs snorts. “It’s called volunteerin’ if ye don’t get paid!”
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram winces as he witnesses the level of embarrassment that whatever childhood story Aislinn has in store for Cravendy skyrockets in realtime in the wake of his response. He blinks and looks back to Cravendy, "Oh, ah ... heh ... right. What's the usual price for something like that?"
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram needs an agent.
(Cravendy Hound) “And volunteerin’ won’t pay the bills. Anyway, it’s just a couple of boxes to deliver to a village called Dirtpatch. A small seatown off the coast of Vylbrand. Tools and medicine, stuff like that.” She pauses. “...I’ve ‘eard recent rumors of pirates attacks though. Those don’t follow the accord. So keep an eye out for them.”
(Cravendy Hound) (me w/ no idea of what the proper payment for this would be* ))
(Aislinn North) "And you're afraid you wouldn't make a good officer." she noted to Cravendy as she propped an elbow on the bar and rested her head against her fingertips. 'Get Paid' was rule number 1 of the mercenary company.
(Aislinn North) "Seems like you got it all sorted out to me."
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs blushes. “I-I’m pretty sure ye keep me around to make the others look better. Why ye all ‘aven’t cut me loose is a mystery I grapple with everyday.”
(Aislinn North) Tipped her head in Cravendy's direction, staring at her over the rim of her glasses with a 'Come on, now.' look. It didn't need to be said.
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram glances between the two women and their exchange with a slightly slanted smile. There was something about it the evoked a feeling of happiness before he let out a quiet laugh and took a drink from his cider once again. "She's got a point, Cravs. You *do* seem like you've got this all sorted."
(Cravendy Hound) Cravs presses her lips together in an attempt to hold back a shy smile. “Seven ‘ells...why we talkin’ bout this anyway? So, Bert, ye want the job or not? Can pay ye this much.” Some reasonable number is presented to the man.
(Aislinn North) ((hehe))
(Cravendy Hound) what even is gil. it's like 3 for an egg, 100 million for a house xD ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( So ... you're telling me if we get 300 million eggs ... ))
(Aislinn North) ((Profit))
(Cravendy Hound) xD ))
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram quietly chuckles and passes Cravendy a thought expression before glancing over the presented payout. He -- honestly -- doesn't seem like he has a healthy bearing on *normal* expenses but he nods his head all the same. "Count me in, Cravs. And, in good faith, I submit to whatever embarrassing story Linn has in store for you." He pauses and looks back to Aislinn with a subtle smile.
(Aislinn North) had been minding her own business, drinking her cider when Bertram voiced his offer. She shot him a look of surprise. Honestly, she thought she had well and truly helped him dodge that bullet by turning the conversation but here he was, putting himself back in the hotseat. "Why would you..." she stopped and just ruefully shook her head. She glanced over at Cravendy.
(Cravendy Hound) oh Bertram....I feel like I could pay him in eggs and he'd be like. Looks good? Looks good! ))
(Aislinn North) ((He would have loved the Hatchingtide shenanigans in that case xD))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Oh dear ... *laughs* Hatchingtide shenanigans you say? ))
(Aislinn North) ((Cravendy paid us in eggs))
(Cravendy Hound) two words. egg mafia ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Oh. My. *Gosh*. ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( I am slayed. ))
(Cravendy Hound) “Oh, I -so- look forward to it.” Cravs puts her empty glass onto the bar table and then puts her hands on her hips. Leaning over, she gives Lin and Bertram a devious smile. “And of course, anythin’ ye ‘ave on Lin would be appreciated. No secrets between friends, aye?”
(Aislinn North) turned several shades of red in the span of mere moments. She stared hard at Bertram. This is the mess he got them into. After she had neatly changed the subject. No good deed goes unpunished. She gave a heavy sigh. "I swear to the Twelve, Bertram..." she muttered as she touched her fingers to her brow.
(Bertram Windshadow) Bertram lifts his brow in surprise as Cravendy goes fishing and Aislinn invokes the Twelve. "Oh ... ah ... " Oops. He's definitely made a mess of it now. If you give an inch they'll take a mile, as they say. He clears his throat. "Right, ah ... we'll start with just the one, yeah?" He was just trying to be nice!!
(Cravendy Hound) lmao windy....when niceness leads to the opposite effect ))
(Aislinn North) "Alright..." she takes a swallow of cider and then begins in on the misadventures of Bertram, the would-be rescuer of a cat that belonged to a girl he was sweet on. It inevitably ends with Bertram crashing through the awning of a market stall, into a stack of pristine melons with nothing to show for it but a mess of scratches along his face and arms, an angry crush and a cat that simply saunters further down the ledgetop, not in need of rescuing at all.
(Aislinn North) What followed was a pell-mell escape from one burly, enraged melon merchant.
(Aislinn North) "Ren and I could barely catch our breath for laughing. Once we were in the clear. Of course."
(Aislinn North) The three of them continued to drink and trade stories long into the evening. Between them, there was certainly some catching up to do.
(Bertram Windshadow) (( *dies* ))
(Cravendy Hound) AWw NICE ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( A long-standing aversion to melons may have been planted that day. ))
(Cravendy Hound) noo not melons ))
(Aislinn North) ((And to this day, Bertram shudders at the sight of a Gyr Abania melon))
(Cravendy Hound) hehehehe ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Indeed. Forever shall he associate the sweet, crispness of a melon with the shearing of a cat's claws! ))
RP Log: Bertram helps Cravs with a bug problem. They meet each other, but fail to connect the dots...
Cravendy Hound pants heavily as she BOOKS it, sprinting away from a swarm of bugs and microchus that nip at her heels. She hadn’t even been doing anything prior - just going on a walk by the stream. Just enjoying the crisp, cool air. But it would seem that the elementals had had enough of her target practice, and now the woods don’t seem as peaceful as they were in the past.
Bertram Windshadow had been attempting to do the very same with his own time on this particular day. There were always a myriad of things upon his mind these days. It did him good to simply step out and move without particular direction and unrestrained pace. Wherever to the wind lead him. That is, of course, until he spied a roegadyn woman being harried by the denizens of the Black Shroud. 1/2
Bertram Windshadow came to a stop within the canopy of a moderately sized tree before dropping down to the forest floor so that he could get a better assessment of the situation. He wasn't about to leave someone in trouble . .. in trouble. 2/2
Cravendy Hound stretches her arm back, aims her gun at her pursuers, and fires a couple of rounds. Some of the shots hit microchus, splitting them from the mob momentarily...though, with every one that was dispatched, two would spring from the bushes and take its place. Meanwhile, for the bugs, I simply present to you this question...have you ever fired a gun at a housefly? Would that work? The answer is no. No, it would not work.
Cravendy Hound: “Godsdamned, bleedin’ flyin’ pieces of shite! Overgrown spinach!” Cravs swats at the air as bugs relentlessly buzz around her. In an attempt to get them off her back, she jumps off the side of the cliff and into the river...however, she misjudges the depth of her target. It’s much too shallow to keep the bugs away from her. And now, she’s drenched AND annoyed.
Bertram Windshadow watches quietly for a moment as the stranger attempts to ward off the pests with her firearm. An attempt that causes the highlander to wince slightly just before she plunges herself into the drink . .. well, at least as much as she could manage in the relative shallowness. 1/3
Bertram Windshadow could only assume that the single-minded focus of these creatures could only come from one place. She'd done something to annoy the Elementals. Not enough to rouse them to outright *anger*, but . .. enough to peeve them. It was an easy mistake to make and Bertram figured they'd more than learned the lesson no need for further assault. 2/3
Bertram Windshadow reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a small orb. With a firm press, and a quiet click, it began belching out a stream of smoke or fog. The man then quickly rolled it in the direction of Cravendy in the hopes of helping disperse the swarm of bugs! 3/3
(Cravendy Hound) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnHmskwqCCQ ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( *dies* This was what was *exactly* what was playing in my heat. ))
Cravendy Hound is too busy swatting away the bugs and plant monsters to notice the source of the sudden smoke, so she thinks it’s the Elementals toying with her further. Her confusion serves to make her even angrier. “If yer gonna kill me, just do it an’ be done with it!” What follows is a long-winded, story of a swear that ends with a coughing fit.
Cravendy Hound - The smoke, meanwhile, does disperse the bugs. They now hover at the edges of where the cloud stops. You can’t see through it, though you can certainly hear all sorts of things happening beneath its foggy exterior.
Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly and makes his way forward at a slightly accelerated pace, breaking his way into the opaque cloud and speaking so that he can make his presence known. "I don't think you're going to get killed today, stranger, but we should probably get you closer to Gridania ..." He calls out before attempting to reach out and touch Cravendy's arm to let her know where he is.
Cravendy Hound: “Who, in the name of Llymlaen’s left teat, are you?!” Upon being touched, she instinctively aims her gun right at Bertram, and then glances to the side. “Behind ye!”
Cravendy Hound - Her aim shifts ever so slightly, from being pointed at Bertram’s forehead to something else entirely. The shot rings out, wind brushing dangerously close to his ear, and then sinks directly into a microchu that had been sneaking up behind them. “Gods, ye...let’s get out of ‘ere.”
Bertram Windshadow winces visibly -- or invisibly given the current circumstances -- at the sound of the gunshot so close to his ear. The ear on that side of his head was nothing but ringing in the moment and he could barely make out the latter half of her speaking. My this woman was an aggressive one. Some dots were starting to connect regarding the Shrouds current state of upset. 1/2
Bertram Windshadow called out in a voice slightly louder than necessary, "Let's get out of here," he echoes her sentiment without realizing it. "They're just going to keep coming if you fight them like that." 2/2
Cravendy Hound nods. She had no desire to let the ‘friendly, forest friends’ have their way for any longer. “Gridania’s a tad far...But Hyrstmill’s just a rock skip away. Let’s find a ‘ovel to ‘ole in and be done with this.”
Bertram Windshadow has to strain to hear the suggestion, but he calls out with an affirmative sound before reaching in to the same pouch again to remove another sphere. With a 'click' the smoke begins to spew and he pivots on a heel to face the direction of the small outpost. As he does he throws his arm back and then swings it forward; throwing the smoke-spewing orb like a bowling ball. In its path it leaves a trail of smoke. "That'll hopefully then thin the herd and give us an opening!"
Cravendy Hound stares curiously at the orb, and then back to Bertram. It clicks in her mind. The smoke? Not the Elementals. This guy. This...stranger, who happens to have smoke-spewing orbs in his possession. Questions would have to wait until after they weren’t being hounded by angry flies and grass. She makes a break for Hrystmill, coughing all the while.
Bertram Windshadow set his pace to match Cravendy's as he kept himself in her wake. He felt compelled to keep an eye out for anything that might lunge at the woman while she was making a break for it. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting to do with his day but it certainly beat being stuck in his own head. "Just keep running they'll break off eventually!"
(Cravendy Hound) LOL I'm seeing an unintentional, but reoccuring theme...in an earlier rp, cravs sucked in a feather and had a coughing fit. After this, she's gonna be super hoarse xD ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahaha! It helps in sounding grumpy!! ))
(Cravendy Hound) let's move to hrystmill! :3 ))
(Cravendy Hound) LOL 6-pack a day scratchy voice. "WATER..." ))
Cravendy Hound - As they run, they can hear, but not see, the monsters pursuing close behind. But eventually, as Hrystmill comes into view, the noise grows fainter and fainter. In reclaimed silence, the sound of hearts pounding and panting breaths come back to the forefront. Cravs lets out a long groan and falls to the ground in a kneel. She beats the dirt twice with her fist, gets back up, and faces Bertram. She has no idea what to say.
Cravendy Hound: “.................So. That ‘appened.”
Bertram Windshadow eases as the sound of pursuit fades a quiet breath draining from his lungs as he finally gives himself a moment to glance over his shoulder. It hadn't seemed like they were in *mortal* danger, but it was hard to say when an elemental would decide to be a little extra cranky at any given moment. He dusted his hands off on his legs as he shifted his attention back to Cravendy. "Sure did ..." he answered, allowing himself a quiet laugh before bobbing his head to the side.
Bertram Windshadow: "I hope they didn't get any nasty bites in ..."
Cravendy Hound: “Couple of bruises and scratches, but nothin’ major. Gods, first dodos, now bugs and bloodthirsty flowers.” She lets out a long sigh. The world was conspiring against her, which...well, was fair, as she had a lot to answer for. But she wondered, why now? Why not before, or later? One thing is for sure, though. She’s thankful that this stranger was here to help out.
Cravendy Hound sizes up Bertram. He looks kind of familiar, but she shelves that feeling off to the side. “Thanks for ‘elping out. I’m Cravs. And ye are?”
(Bertram Windshadow) (( Would Bertram know that nickname? I don't *think* he would, but I figured I'd check before having him be oblivious, hahaha
(Cravendy Hound) hmm I mean, she refers to herself as such, but idk if others would to her?? haha ))
(Cravendy Hound) up to you really :P ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( I think Lin has only said Cravendy to him! So I don't think he'd make the immediate connection! Not yet anyway! ))
Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly, "I can't pretend to know *why* but I think you did something to upset the elementals," he offered quietly as he finished dusting himself off and glancing around Hyrstmill, ". .. they can be a bit sensitive about how you treat the forest." He pauses for a moment before dipping his head toward the woman. "It's nice to meet you Cravs. Most folk these days call me Windshadow."
Cravendy Hound brings a hand up to her face and covers it in thought. Upset the elementals...no. Her target practice? She had thought since it was an accident, it’d be fine, but perhaps not. Blast it all, now she’d have to get a conjurer to help her apologize to those, frankly, eldritch spirits.
Cravendy Hound: “Windshadow. Now that’s a title -and- a mouthful...any reason why people call ye that?” Her brows knit together and her eyes narrow. He clearly wasn’t your average adventurer, judging from his gear. “That yer secret, crime fightin’ identity or somethin’?”
Bertram Windshadow blinks in surprise, though not that one could tell from behind the visor, at her comment. He'd never really thought about it like *that* before. There's an awkward pause before Bertram's hand rises up to the back of his neck and he shook his head. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that," he responds with a laughing tone, "It's ... an epithet. A Gyr Abanian thing."
Bertram Windshadow: "I can be ... pretty fast when I need to be. Quiet too."
Cravendy Hound just realizes that she’s smiling. Everything that had happened in the past hour. The smoke, the running...and now, Windshadow standing here, as polite as could be. He was an amusing enigma to her. “No need to be bashful. If people call ye something like that, then I doubt ye only go ‘pretty’ fast. But can ye outrun a chocobo? I’d be willin’ to bet against ye.”
Cravendy Hound laughs - the challenge only half serious. “But seriously. Ye saved my ‘ide back there. What can I do for ye...’ow about round of drinks on me?”
Bertram Windshadow can only laugh a bit more fully at the prospective challenge, his head shaking slightly as a smile finds solid purchase upon his lips. "Depends on the terrain and distance, honestly. A 'bo's going to out last me in the long run on flat ground." He shakes his head gently, as though he was dismissing the thought as overly self-indulgent. He cleared his throat at the new offer. "I ... " he pauses, tilting his head to the side, "... I wouldn't turn down a drink or two, no."
Bertram Windshadow: "But I'm just glad to have been at the right place at the right time."
Cravendy Hound scratches the back of her head, amused by how seriously Windshadow is taking the chocobo challenge. She can hardly imagine what it’d look like for a hyur to move that quickly. Would he send himself sailing forward like a rocket, or would he just move his limbs -that fast-?! Either way, she steps over and playfully bumps his shoulder with her fist. “I know a spot nearby that serves a solid Mun-Tuy Brew. Over ‘ere.”
Cravendy Hound would bring the two of them to an unassuming establishment. When she enters, she dips her head towards the Elezen barkeep, who returns the gesture. By the time Cravs takes a seat, the barkeep has already set out two cups and a bottle of brew on the table. The usual.
Bertram Windshadow laughed -- albeit a bit nervously -- as Cravendy bumped his shoulder gently while passing by while making her way further into the town. He certainly couldn't complain about a good drink of mun tuy so he followed behind her whilst glancing around the village with a thoughtful expression. He didn't say too much on the way but, as he settled in before the second cup of drink, he couldn't help but ask. "What had you out in this neck of the woods anyway?"
Cravendy Hound has already finished a cup and is halfway through pouring herself another glass. She places the bottle back to the center of the table with a satisfying, though loud, thump. “......Ye’d be surprised ‘ow far those critters chased me. That said, I come out ‘ere now and again. Nice trees, nice folk.” She clears her throat, and then says in a slightly lower voice: “The drinks not bad too.”
Bertram Windshadow might have -- perhaps -- been attempting to discern what the woman might have down to agitate the elementals, but ... he didn't seem like he was about to start prying where he wasn't invited. It didn't seem like he was Like That. Instead he bobbed his head forward and began a much more *measured* approach to his drinking. "I find it similarly calming. Spend time up in the boughs can really help clear the head when you're feeling a bit overwhelmed."
Cravendy Hound raises a brow. “So, ye run really fast, and ye have orbs that shoot out smoke. What are ye, some kind of courier? If ye feelin’ overwhelmed, then just tell the big man to stuff it. Don’t work so much.” She lifts her cup up with a grin. “Lifes too short not to indulge in the good stuff.”
(Cravendy Hound) lmao I can't get over how these two haven't connected the dots ))
(Bertram Windshadow) (( It's *pretty* great! Hahaha. ))
Bertram Windshadow tilts his head to the side slightly as he listens to Cravendy's Words of Wisdom. He sips upon his drink thoughtfully for a moment before giving a concessionary bob of his head. He certainly found himself dwelling on the bad recently. Though it wasn't quite related to work as she might be assuming. Given his effective unemployment at the moment. "... I suppose that's true." He murmurs quietly, maybe more to himself than to Cravendy proper, "Is that what you were doing out there?"
Cravendy Hound leans back on her chair, feet propped up on the table. “Chin up. Ye seem the earnest type. Try at somethin’ long enough and it’ll change, eventually.” She takes another sip and listens to the sound of the waterwheel turning on the river. Windshadow’s second question gives her pause. “What? Was I...out ‘ere to indulge, ye mean?”
Bertram Windshadow quietly nods his head in response to her further words of assurance -- though it seemed difficult to determine how they were received behind the vidor -- before she asked her clarifying question. "Oh," he cleared his throat and shook his head, "Well, that or just ... enjoying the 'good stuff' as it were."
Cravendy Hound smirks, and gestures to the alcohol on the table, as if that was answer enough to his question. The two made an interesting drinking duo, and Cravs found herself drawn to her withdrawn, fast-running companion. When they eventually parted ways, she let him know that he was welcome to swing by for another round of drinks...or perhaps, she would find him, and make good on her bet that he could outrun a chocobo.
In the days following the loss of Wyda, Aislinn had pulled into herself, like a tortoise who retreats back to its shell. She was certainly still present. She was an officer, she still had a job to do. There were still people missing, for one. She'd not leave Crific on his own to handle it all. But she did her job with a blank sort of efficiency.
In a word, Aislinn floundered. Became unapproachable when what she truly needed was comfort, connection, reassurance. But the person who had given that and more was gone. And if that wasn't enough of a blow, someone else was walking around in Wyda's body saying they had it first. Angry, loudmouthed, drunk, glowering, and generally intent on being everything Wyda had never been.
Aislinn needed to get away from Heartwood for a while and jotted off a note for Bertram that said as much. Then she collected her gun, took Barnabas, and went into the Shroud for some target practice.
Bertram had done his best to respect Aislinn’s space while also not bowing completely to any attempts to distance him that might occur. He knew Aislinn well enough to know that she had a tendency to clam up and retreat into herself when things became more than could easily be borne. He wasn't even convinced that it was entirely conscious either, more of an instinct than anything else. It was with a measurable sense of relief that he read the note that let her whereabouts be known. It was a comforting notion, even if Bertram himself was still wrestling with his own sense of guilt over the situation; both for not being there to help Aiswyda and not being there at Aislinn's side. It was a difficult thing to process.
It was no surprise that Bertram was quick to make his way out into the Shroud to find the woman. He didn't rightly like the idea of her being left to stew in her own grief alone for too long. The very least that he could do was be there. Even if it was just to be a silent reminder that she wasn't alone.
Daylight had mellowed to a gold, late afternoon glow that filtered through the forest canopy and Aislinn had found herself a quiet clearing in which to practice. Knowing that the ethereal Elementals that inhabited the dark Shroud might not care for her blasting lead through the wood, she had come prepared.
A small, spherical mechanical node hovered around the clearing, darting this way and that. This was the target. Aislinn's aim swept after the sphere, an intense look of concentration on her face. Her first shot grazed by it, a harmless pulse of blue energy. If this bothered her, she didn't show it, but kept her gun trained on the node. It swiftly halted and spun about to shift direction, she fired, a stun round blasting out the gun's chamber. An arc of blue, crackling energy enveloped the node as it fell out of the sky. It rolled and came to a stop in the grass, points of light around the circumference of the sphere indicating that it was resetting itself. Aislinn let go a breath, lowered her arm and kneaded her free hand against her aching shoulder as she waited. The kickback was jarring but she couldn't deny that it felt good to let her gun speak for her. It was louder than she could ever manage to be.
Bertram’s approach through the wood was intentionally obvious and audible. His usual silence seemed wrong in this current situation given his desire to be present in the moment. Living up to his epithet hardly seemed appropriate.
"Alright, there?" he called out gently from a few paces away.
The node beeped softly and whirled up into the air once more but Aislinn's attention was on Bertram. She stared as if she couldn't possibly know how to answer that question this time. In the end, she dropped her hand from her shoulder, defeated. "No." she said as she turned to look once more at the node as it flitted gamely through the air. "I just. ..needed to get some distance for a bit. Some air."
"I can't exactly blame you for that," he murmured quietly, bowing his head slightly whilst taking in a slow breath, "that's a feeling that I understand all-too-well."
Bertram watched the drone quietly for a moment as he moved to stand beside Aislinn with a thoughtful expression. The particulars of the situation weren't something that he understood in their entirety but the general gist certainly seemed to click with him. It was a situation that seemed all too familiar to him. Almost painfully so. That it was happening to Aislinn -- again -- only seemed to make it all the worse for him.
"Did you design that yourself?" He asked, deciding against prodding Aislinn about Wyda and letting her approach that at her own pace.
She knew what he was doing. But all the same, she welcomed it. In these past weeks when had she last had a conversation about something benign? Not work, not the missing Heartwood members, or a plan of attack, not the grief or how it sometimes seemed so big it shimmered beyond the boundaries of her body. Holstering her gun for the time being, she eyed the node. "Seemed more respectful than coming out here and blasting away at a bullseye nailed to a tree." she said with a single nod of her head. "Plus, it's more of a challenge if it's moving."
The man lets out a quiet laugh as he dips his head in Aislinn's direction; a gesture of concession to her point. She was most certainly not wrong about that. Bertram couldn't pretend to understand the whims and whiles of the Elementals entirely himself, but he knew well enough than to act carelessly under their scrutiny. "I'd say that's a pretty good plan if you asked me," He commented somewhat wryly before turning his attention away from the node and back to Aislinn, "And the rounds? Those are your creation too? Meant to incapacitate if I'm not mistaken."
She tilted her head in his direction. A wordless acceptance of his compliment. To his question, she hesitated. "I saw Haila with them first. But once I did, I realized what a perfect solution they were. It only took a few slight modifications to the gun to be able to fire both kinds of rounds." She paused and gave a harsh exhale. "I'm sorry I'm not my usual, chatty self." she said, facetiously, of course. She had never been known for her chatter.
Bertram simply gave her a 'look' that told her that the apology was the furthest thing from necessary. Aislinn was many things and chatty was not one of them. At least not in the traditional sense. Get her started on a topic of interest then maybe but, otherwise . ..? He let out a quiet chuckle. "And I'm sorry for being so loud," he offered back in an attempt to bring some humor, ". .. your ability to adapt the tech so rapidly is certainly something that I don't think I'll ever really grasp." Another soft laugh as he gently shakes his head.
Her brow furrowed at first. Loud? When had Bertram -ever- been loud? Ahh, but then the light goes off in her head and she gets it. A soft huff escaped her as she gave him a wry glance out of the corner of her eye. She shrugged since it seemed like the only thing to do. "It keeps me busy. I have to stay busy otherwise...." she trailed off, letting a silence fall. And then, "Do you think it's possible for a person to be cursed?" she blurted out, then quickly glanced away. Her jaw tensed as if she was trying to hold down something particularly unappetizing. "It just seems..that everyone that gets close to me..ends up worse off."
Bertram couldn't pretend not to be quietly relieved that she'd broached the subject by her own volition rather than him having to go fishing for the feelings that she was undoubtedly keeping bottled up. It was, perhaps, the way that she and Ren were the most alike. They both hated putting their own problems on others. Perhaps to unhealthy lengths. It was something that he'd grown quite used to in their time as children.
All the same the question caused the highlander's stomach to twist slightly; that her mind was in such a dark place was a painful thought. "Do I believe in curses?" He echoes quietly, turning his attention out toward the forest, "Probably."
There's a pause as he draws in a deep breath. "But do I believe that you're cursed, Lin?" He shakes his head slowly, "No, I don't." He gently places a hand upon his own chest, gesturing to himself as he turned his attention back to Aislinn with as gentle of an expression as he could muster. "I wouldn't be here with my mind as my own if it weren't for you. There's not a single doubt in my mind about that. Both Ren and I are who we are today in part because of you, Lin."
At his assertion that she surely wasn't cursed, she flicked her eyes over to him. They were still troubled but unguarded. "But what you went through, that nightmare. Can you honestly say you're better for that?" she asked with quiet forthrightness.
He wasn't surprised by her follow-up question; he'd practically expected it in truth. Nor could he blame her for asking it. His life couldn't truly be described as easy by any measure. It'd been a long and painful journey to this point, no one could deny that and he wouldn't try to claim otherwise. "Sort of an impossible question, isn't it, Lin?" He asked gently as he held her gaze, "All that I can say for certain is that I'm standing right here with my mind as my own and a real future in front of me."
He looks down at the earth for a moment, an introspective expression upon his face. Could things have been different? Certainly, but how could he possibly account for all the different ways that life could have gone? "For as much as either of us know, my getting taken away and ..." he didn't go into the details of what had been done to him, " .. well, for all we know it saved my life and Ren's as we were both plucked out of the Resistance as a result."
She was silent for a long moment as she considered his words. It was a different perspective, to be sure. Everything that they had gone through had surely made them the people they were today but as to whether those people were better off..that was up for constant debate. And some days, like today, she wasn't so sure. But maybe that was the only way forward. The past was the past, immutable and unmalleable. "Some days it's harder to justify it all." she said. "What was it all for?"
As she finished speaking an odd noise broke the peace of the briar. A metallic, skittering sound that echoed from the great hollowed out trunk that lay at the clearing's opening. A soft, repetitive series of beeps followed in its wake. Almost immediately, trepidation rippled across Aislinn's face, her mouth frozen open in whatever she had been about to say next. She stopped, turning towards the fallen log. "What was that?" she asked, voice low. But she feared she already knew the answer.
Bertram had only just begun to formulate his answer when Aislinn was suddenly moving in response to the foreign sounds that filled the air of the otherwise peaceful clearing. They certainly didn't sound like what he would expect to hear from the depth of the Shroud. His brow furrowed and his fists tightened. He couldn't help but feel his readiness to fight build up to whatever unknown presence had made its way toward them.
"I don't know ..." he nearly whispered, "I didn't think anything was following me."
From the dark hollow three Allagan spiders emerged, spindly dagger-like legs allowing them to cling to the top and sides of the log. The orbs stationed directly in front of the hybrid bioweapons flickered, the series of patterns changing as they paused, having found their quarry. Roughly the size of large dogs, these must be the scouts. Much like the one she and Haila had dissected. Aislinn cursed under her breath and gave a sweeping look around them. Cornered. Her comforting, secluded clearing had become a trap.
She took a cautious step back, flexing her hand and reaching for her gun. "No." she stated. No, she wouldn't let this happen. No, she refused to be the reason more bad news would end up at Heartwood's door. Just no. Without letting her gaze leave the allagan tech, she explained to Bertram. "Those things are what took the other medics. We need to find a way out. Fast. Before more come."
Bertram didn't need to be told twice. If it were just him it might have been a simple matter of disappearing into the wood, but Aislinn was here and he needed to make certain that they both got out of this in one piece. He took a short step forward and began to tap into the aether born of his chakra. He was far from a master Fist, but he's learned enough to defend himself if needs be. He quietly cursed for coming out here unarmed. "How dangerous? Can I distract them?" He left out the loud 'Why' that was pounding in his head. That would be for later.
"I don't know. ..I never -" she stopped and shot her free hand out, gripping his arm tightly in response to his idea that he distract them. The reaction had been immediate, a gut-wrenching 'absolutely not' born out of the fear that she would lose him too. "Dangerous. We never come out ahead in a fight with them." But now she also saw they had no choice. The spiders were covering the exit like they were waiting for something. "Alright." she dropped her hand. "Just..we get an opening, and we're out."
She whistled sharply for Barnabas who stood dozing at the clearing's edge. "Be ready." she nodded to him and raised her weapon. Fortunately, the scouts seemed content to sit. She fired off a round, the electric arc shocking the orb of the nearest one, causing it to drunkenly stumble to one side. That spurred the other two into motion. If their quarry wouldn't wait peacefully, they'd subdue it.
The two remaining spiders raced towards them.
There was no mistaking the message sent by Aislinn's grip. Alright. No distractions. Instead Bertram began to focus his aether into his legs and his feet. A technique of his father's that he'd yet to try out in a live scenario. A slow breath filled his lungs as he eyed the pair of spiders that had started charging toward them.
He spared Aislinn a quick glance out of the corner of his eye before he leaned forward and launched himself forward with all of his strength and aether combined. It resulted in the highlander bolting forward in a near blur to a point just behind one of the spiders. The precision of the movement was uncanny; like a shark darting forward for the kill. He was quick to, then, shift onto one leg and lash out with the other in an attempt to make contact and damage one of the spider's many legs.
The spiders were fast, but Bertrams's aether-boosted speed was beyond them. Before the spider could turn, it's leg crumpled inward at an awkward angle. For Bertram, he would have felt his kick connected with a disconcerting flesh overlay that protected the circuitry within. His impressive display of aether only serves to draw the ire of the remaining spider, who launches itself at him from the side as he is busy with the first.
The spider connected solidly with Bertram, with all its weight behind it. Meanwhile, Aislinn made a run for Barnabas and vaulted herself into the saddle. She knew time was of the essence. These things were nothing compared to what she knew must be coming. There may be some who would be determined to stay and fight this fight. She was not foolish enough to be one of them. Not when so much depended on her walking away from this. Turning the hulking chocobo around, she watched in horror as the spider collided with Bertram and without another thought, raced the bird into the fray.
Bertram grunted and let out a short cry of surprise as the spider slammed up against him. It was alarming just how resilient these . .. things were and that was saying nothing of the power that seemed to be behind them. The highlander gritted his teeth as he was forced down by the spider. He didn't panic though, there was no time for that, and immediately gathered up aether within his hand. The process was immediately followed by a punch to what passed as the creature's thorax.
Bertram's fist echoed against what almost sounded unnervingly like a hollow cavity, surely he had dented it. But it continued on in its assault. The spider's legs begin to curl around him, gripping him tight in a macabre embrace. As Barnabas thundered into the tangle of limbs, spurred on by Aislinn, the ornery chocobo gave a mighty call as he let fly a bone shattering kick to the spider that had toppled Bertram. It was knocked to the side, Its main chassis caved in. Briefly, Bertram could be seen. Aislinn swung down in the saddle, arm outstretched. "Good enough! Grab hold!" she yelled.
The highlander didn't miss a beat. The thunder of Barnabas' feet -- and the prelude to violence that was his wark -- gave Bertram all the time he needed to prepare to act with great haste in the wake of the chocobo's devastating attack. The moment that Bertram felt the spider's grip and weight ripped free from him pushed his foot into the dirt at an angle that caused him to spin around like a top.
It was an act that oriented himself *just-so* that he could grab a hold of Aislinn's arm and yank himself up toward the saddle. He was temporarily something of a saddlebag before he was able to work himself into the seat proper. He was quick to pat Aislinn's arm several times once he was secure. A signal that simultaneously told her he was okay and that she should get them the hell out of there!
She certainly didn't need to be told twice. As she raced Barnabas out of the clearing, the spider she had stunned seemed to have managed to repair itself, hunkering down and steadying itself on all legs momentarily before giving chase, albeit in a swerving, drunken sailor fashion. The second that Bertram had crippled also limped after them, one missing leg slowing it down but certainly not stopping it. However, as Aislinn turned to look behind them as they fled, she saw what she had truly been dreading.
Over the crest of the clearing's rocky walls a much larger spider was clamoring down after them, having been signaled by the scouts. Large enough to hold a person in the depths of its cold, mechanical bowels. "We can't lead them back to Heartwood." she panted as she jerked the reins and turned Barnabas' head deeper in the wood.
Bertram's eye went wide as he beheld the larger spider. There was an uneasy feeling within his stomach as he came to realize just *what* it was that had made Aislinn so eager to split from the three other, smaller spiders. Whatever this thing was, it was a horrifying sight.
She reined Barnabas in briefly at the bridge, weighing their options while trying to simultaneously not give in to the screaming fear that she would follow in G'lewra's and Vanriri's fate. "We can lose them in the Sylphlands. There should be enough aether bouncing around there to throw off their sensors." Trading one problem for another. The Sylphlands were hardly a safe haven. But as she spied the scouts scurrying in their wake, she didn't wait for Bertram's answer, she simply launched Barnabas across the bridge.
No protest or argument would come from Bertram as Aislinn revealed her plan. As far as he was concerned it was the best option at this juncture. He simply braced himself for a bumpy ride and prepared his wits to deal with the myriad of dangers within the deep Shroud. And that was saying nothing of the trickery that they would no doubt have to deal with from the locals. Some of which might yet be malicious. There was truly nothing to be said for it now.
The spiders clicking and whirring at their heels, Aislinn drove Barnabas towards the cliffside at a breakneck pace. With a mighty shove, the chocobo launched himself off the edge and into the air. Barnabas was no slouch. He was a magnificent specimen of a chocobo. But with two full-sized riders, even he could do no more than glide off the edge of the cliffside and slow their descent into the dark gloam below. In the depths of the ominous and strange Sylphlands. After a rough landing in which, Aislinn almost lost control and pitched herself and Bertram to the ground, she pulled Barnabas to a halt and slouched over the neck winded bird. She may have been hugging him. Something Barnabas merely tolerated for the moment.
Bertram didn't waste any time lingering upon the chocobo. He simply slid from Barnabas' back and dropped back down to his feet. He did a quick surface level scan of his body to make certain he'd not sustained any serious wounds before immediately moving a few paces out and growing very still as he listened and watched. He wanted to confirm that those things were not still on their tail.
After collecting herself, Aislinn pulled her face from the chocobo's feathered neck and likewise lowered herself to the ground. She came to stand beside Bertram, peering up at the cliffside from which they had vaulted. "We should hide." she said. "Just to be on the safe side." She had faith in her theory but it was just that, a theory. There was still so much about this allagan weaponry that remained a mystery.
She turned away from the open landscape and stationed herself behind a great stone boulder before sinking to the ground, adrenaline having run its course.
Bertram flicked his gaze over in Aislinn's direction as she moved in beside him. A slow breath filtered through his lungs before he nodded in agreement. He followed behind the woman before leaning back against the same stone and heaving a slow sigh. He couldn't help himself from being on high alert however. There's a length of silence before he comments softly. "Well ... that was exciting."
She paused and gave him one of their shared ‘looks’. But whether due to the lingering excitement or fear, a wavering laugh escaped her though nothing about this was funny. "Still sure I'm not cursed?" she sighed in a bit of black humor.
"Still breathing." He replied back without hesitation, his attention predominately on the sounds immediately around them. It was a reflex that he couldn't help but let take control. "... I have no idea what's going on, Lin, but right now we've got to focus on giving these things the slip so that we can get you back to the safety of Heartwood." He murmured quietly. "You can tell me all about it then."
She nodded. He was right. First, they needed to find their way out of here. Then, she'd unravel the thread of the story for him. "Even so. If my idea holds, we have to wait it out. Give those things a chance to give up and wander off. That's how we'll make it back to Heartwood. I can't make a beeline there and lead them straight to our doorstep." She tipped her head back against the stone as she inhaled a fortifying breath. "But aye, then it seems you're in need of some answers."
The man lowered himself down into a squat and drew in a deep breath as he forced himself to ease up slightly and not hyper-fixate on their potential pursuers. He closed his eyes and measured his breathing; remembering the lessons for his father's crystal. He slowly began to bring himself down from the battle-high.
"That sounds like a good plan to me. They'd be damn crazy to chase out this deep into the Shroud. We're half-mad for coming here ourselves." Another short, quiet chuckle.
"Believe me, this was the better of the options. Any day of the week." Aislinn quietly replied.
