#timelessharp

[bruinescence]

@bruinescence rolled a persuasion check:

"You know, I would not say that I am very old. But surely that is 'old enough' to warrant a nickname other than 'cub'?"

@timelessharp

" you'll forgive me if i still call you cub, you know. i have known you since you were just an acolyte. " she laughs quietly, her head tilted as she mends her things. leather cord pulls through the edge of her belt as she works. " does it bother you so? "

Well, so much for persuasion, he thought whilst observing the meticulous way she went about mending her gear. Fingers adept with a bow were so often adept at such matters, though he had to wonder if she'd studied under a spider's instruction in order to strike the balance between finite precision and holding back just enough strength to keep thing chords from snapping whilst guiding them into place like the strands of a sturdy web.

He took the opportunity in her busied hands to freely pluck a spotty plum out of a nearby basket sat near to her belongings. Giving the snack a quick shine on the front of his druid gear, he gives the Harper a weary smile. "It has been quite some time since those days. Silvanus must have blessed you with an eternally youthful spirit if they feel nearer still."

In two bites, the plum is all but gone save for the pit. "It bothers me more that you're lacing that bodice over and under instead of under and over. But I suppose you have a good explanation to give a 'cub' who thinks he knows better than some crafty crow?"

[bruinescence]

bruinescence asked: "i don't want them dancing naked under the full moon." Crossed arms accompany a hawk's eye view of the Grove's goings on below. "... without supervision."

@timelessharp

" ha! you don't want them dancing naked? what a noble archdruid you are. " she picks at him, pinching the tip of his ear as she leans on a pillar nearby. she was in high spirits, glad to be with him in the moment. " you should join them, you know. it would be a good experience for you. and before you suggest the same -- i have had my fair share of moonlit ritual. i'm not keen on losing my head to such affairs anymore. "

Something between an exasperated sigh and a light chuckle escaped the 'noble Archdruid'. Her pestering was...expected. To the point where even the ear pinching only earned a little shake of his head like a fully racked buck attempting to shake off falling blossoms or roosting birds amongst its antlers.

"I never said they could not...merely that I should watch over them in case they get a bit too... 'spirited' again. I don't think the last tourists will be back anytime soon after that debacle ."

Having lulled her into a false sense of tolerance, he crossed his arms and waited for his chance to bite as soon as she showed any sign of an opening. "Unfortunate as it may be, it would be...difficult to keep an eye on them accordingly if I were to go down." A knowing smile stretched at the corners of his mouth as a playful wiggle settled in the broad span of his grass-padded shoulders.

"I suppose you would not mind if I were to partake from up here, then? I would hate to think myself intruding upon your guard duty."

[saintsdawn-archive]

you think he's dead?

practical magic.

“ I watched him burn. ” 

It should excite her, but success sinks like a stone. The darkness in the Gauntlet of Shar – physical and mental – is weighing her down, and speaking of the events sour her mood. “ It could have been a scene from a song. The evil necromancer swallowed by divine fire and light, forced to release the captured dead. ”

There isn’t a shortage of sarcasm in her voice.

Florence tapes a finger against the glass again, and again, and again. The drink was supposed to calm her. It isn’t working. “ Yes, I think Balthazar is dead. I’m not a fool, though. We never know if he kept a trick up his sleeve, but I’m going to hope the Shadowfell would keep him occupied. ”

[bruinescence]

"The violence wasn’t necessary, but… it is appreciated."

@timelessharp - cont.

" it is often more necessary than you think, archdruid. " the title is spoken plainly, not with a lack of reverence but coming from someone long removed from her own circle. her scimitar is wiped on the hem of her dress and set back to scabbard as she shakes the dust off. " but -- a man like you understands the costs of it. your wisdom is appreciated. are you alright? "

"...I would say the same for formalities, but the appreciation dwindles down to resignation." He mused, regarding the Harper with a road-weary and weathered look. The trip from the grove to the Harpers' encampment was by no means a sunny stroll; the few bodies of bandits strewn about the road said as much. No doubt the cowards were on the tails of the poor refugees fleeing the area in preparation for a battle to come.

Shaking his head, he took her cleanliness as an opportunity to stoop by a drow pinned to the earth by an arrow or two and pluck a small book he'd seen from the corner of his eye. Archdruid or not, he still had much to learn to best serve Silvanus. A quick skim deemed the item nothing more than a romance novel: the Lusty Dragonborn Maid. Huh...sounded familiar. He casually tucked the text under his belt and turned to face his unexpected, but welcome alliance.

"Right as rain! Never you mind me-I'm here to work, remember?" Or rather offer his aid to the Harpers'. He didn't quite know the full story yet, but he'd heard through the vine that something of a tyrant was rising to power at a speed that very much defied the balance with which nature must reside. "Wherever you need me ~ "

[nobleburn]

@timelessharp continued from here

Althea wasn't sure how she felt about being addressed as girl even now, though she supposed there wasn't much to be done about it. Aside from the scars, she still looked every bit the doe-eyed youth who had fled Candlekeep under cover of night over a century before, barely able to so much as conjure a magic missile or limply hold a sword with loose fingers. No, the wear was subtler, in the tremble of her hands and the weakness of her breath, in the way her smile never quite made it to her eyes and she always seemed so tired.

"I suppose," she murmured, "though I wouldn't be surprised if the gods had something against me, personally, anyway." Certainly, she wasn't especially reverent, and she'd ruffled the feathers of more than a few in her time. "Though maybe that's just my inflated sense of self-importance." The grin that followed was as fatigued as every other, though perhaps a bit more mirthful and light than Althea's usual, these days. "Letting go of being the most important person in the world is harder than you'd think, you know."

With one last roll of her tongue, Althea attempted to get the foul taste of the rancid fruit off her lips. "On a note more serious than bad fruit and my ravenous hunger, what is going on here, Jaheira?" Aside from the briefest of trips, she'd spent little time north of Amn in decades. There was always some new threat, a cult or tyrant, some deranged mage, some rampaging monster. That wasn't her responsibility anymore, so it seldom earned Althea's notice. An entire region enveloped in a curse, though, was something she should have paid attention to.