Time: 11 a.m.
Location: River Port Beach-Slime Day-Bath House
Interactions:
@kazemitsu Kharne,
@potter Rue,
@Helo Bowyn
Mentions:,
@princess Annya
@FunnyGuy Kaleb
@potter Saoirse [@thekingofchaos] Ismael
Equipment: Axes
Amas: 899
The humid heat of the bath was loosening muscles on Arn that the soldier did not know existed. He did, being a medic, of course, but he did not know they had been neglected on his body. Years spent in armor and with a travel pack strapped to your back tended to make you forget that muscles also needed relaxing. Despite these hardships, dwarves' were not all spartan living. The armor was actually crafted with comfort in mind. It was made of the lightest materials that offered the best protection. Royals and nobles enjoyed the protection of Mithril. Lesser people like himself was still afforded material that some would still adequate.
His introduction had earned him a name from the demi human as Ismael. The male had seemed to have an issue with Kaleb. Had the two also gotten into the sort of misunderstanding that Arn and the curly haired elf had? The big lizard known as Kharne seemed to find his medic profession useful and this encouraged the soldier that his place was not simply secured due to words on a letter. The young dward had worried that he would just be the token dwarf. However, he hoped that his skills were actually of use.
While in the tub, he suddenly found himself flanked by Kaleb and to his surprise, the red headed fiery elf that had introduced her knee to the street vendor’s family jewels. She had yelled earlier that the group talked too much and so the medic was surprised that she wanted to share the tub with them. Then again, he could not fault her for wanting to enjoy the relaxing warmth. There was something odd he could not quite place his finger on. Most elves behaved haughty and detached. Being grumpy and loud tended to be a dwarvish trait….or someone like Bowyn. He dared not look in her direction though, the red in his cheeks more than just from the hot water.
The young girl was covered enough to be sure, but the soldier had never had to sit so close to somebody like her. Dwarven women could even be called good looking but none came close to elves who were known for their ethereal beauty. Rue had been the first fairy he had seen and that race also seemed to generate artistic specimens. Despite his height, he sank deeper into the tub, even ignoring his beard that dipped into the water. He chanced a glance up at her and noticed that the lady seemed to be irritated. Soon he realized the reason. The curly haired elf seemed to have taken the red haired lass words as offense.
In truth, Arn could not follow. Entertainment was not something that dwarves concentrated too much on. Artistic release was their way to release stress. Dwarven artisans were truly inspired and the works they produced were hard to imagine came from the hearts and hands of a race that seems to hate everyone. Even the medic spent his days reading medical journals and other subjects. His quest for being the best prepared medic had landed his eyes on tomes ancient and almost forgotten. Then, there was always the taverns, where copious amounts of liquor were sure to flow. Thus, this talk of main character and such was lost on the dwarf who merely looked from one speaker to the next. Kaleb was using words he did not recognize.
Why was being a main character so important to them? Should he interject his own opinion? Whatever the case, it seemed like the curly headed elf meant disrespect in his words. The tone in which he said certain things seemed like a barbed arrow. Arn was no knight in shiny armor but he could at least ask Kaleb to show more property towards a lady. Then again, would in doing so, offend Saoirse? After all, the girl had shown she could take care of herself. The poor medic did not know what to do.
Thankfully, the dragon born spoke up to keep the peace. Chastising them all as if they were children. Though compared to the lizard’s size and probable life experiences, they were. Arn had seen much fighting in his life but it basically was part of his culture. A part that the medic did not want to normalize. He understood where the warning was coming from and looking at the three around him in the tub, felt a slight twinge of sadness. Would any of them pay the final price in this upcoming war?
The mysterious look that passed between Kaleb and Kharne made Arn wonder. Why were they trying to keep an elf hidden? It was true that royals or those of high standing would be likely targets but as far as he knew, the curly haired elf had not implied any sort of nobility standing. But certainly Kaleb’s way of speaking to people spoke of a certain privilege. Like the red headed girl, this elf also seemed to be out of place. Even spoiled royals did not act this way. It was almost as if the young lad believed himself better than anybody else. His musings were interrupted by the almost growling voice of the big mercenary.
Thanks to his quick disclosure, the young dwarf now knew that the giant lizard was a well versed veteran of the battle field. Mercenaries seldom lived long. The fact that Kharne was able to survive two score years meant that the mercenary was skilled in survival. During the Slime Day events, Arn was able to appreciate how the big lizard’s body moved effortlessly and efficiently. The dragon born was literally a killing machine. He was sure that Princess Annya or whoever had hired the mercenary, was quite aware of the asset such a being brought to the fighting power of the party he was in.
Suddenly, his own experiences came into play. At first, Arn had not paid much attention to the sounds of the transmission as he thought it might be something relating to the Slime Day festivities. Probably, somebody announcing this or the other but certain key words caught his ear. Humans? Demons? The dwarf sat up from his position trying to listen.
None of that mattered when the screams began. Having cared for the wounded and maimed for two decades, the medic did not need his experience to let him know when a person was in pain. Excruciating pain at that. Such pain is laced with a sort of manic desperation when all reason leaves to be replaced by the basic need to survive. Every instinct in his body urged him to act. His body filled with adrenaline as his stocky body jumped up and out of the tub with a speed not proportional to his body. His hearing sharpened almost feeling the pain the other person was feeling. Perhaps it was an instinct that all people who have experienced a battlefield had as Kharne immediately rush out of their tent.
Other screams of onlookers soon began to form a sickening cacophony of terror. Arn reached the tent flap, having grabbed only his pants and his axes. As he rushed through the threshold he was greeted by a gust of wind that almost knocked him on his ass. Sand and debris began to swirl around as the screams continued. Blinking and covering his eyes he soon noted the beginnings of a tornado and something in the middle of it. Was that… Was that a person?.
“By Novldir’s Hammer”. His brown eyes went wide.
Where they being under attack? But that did not make sense. Elemental magic was something only….only humans could do. Realization hit him as hard as the beach furniture was hitting the walls of the nearest buildings as the tornado continued to form. Having come just behind Kharne he noticed that he was shouting to the red haired member of their group. Wait…did that mean that there was humans in their party?
His eyes began to widen as he remembered Kharne’s scolding of Kaleb. The secrecy in which they all behaved. He looked back towards all three who had shared the tub with him. Where they all human? They did behave strangely and spoke with strange words.
Once more his glance fell on the swirly vortex. The dwarf did notice that it was coming from the direction the princess and other ladies along with Bowyn had been. Suddenly, he noticed Bowyn kneeling down….over Rue? A sudden urgency welled inside Arn. He saw the princess rush over to the tornado yelling something that was being lost in the roar of the increasing wind. His concern for the princess was not as strong as what he felt for the white haired fairy. Why was this? Was it because, even briefly, he had spent more time with the two winter fairies than the princess? Or was it something else?
His body moved on its own as his short legs pushed against the sand and rushed over to Bowyn’s side.
“Bowyn….what happened? Please let me take a look.” He offered, concern permeating his voice. He had almost pushed the winter fairy lad out of the way but even in this emergency situation, the medic had the presence of mind to not surprise a person that would lead to being harmed himself.
