LadyAnnaLee

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Darin was about to say hello to Ridahne when Mrixe leaned over the table to stare her straight in the eye, "It's not always about you." He jerked his head towards the human, "Is it?"

Darin found herself staring at Mrixie. Logically she knew that was a reference to the conversation that the two of them had while she had been feeding pastries to the horses this morning. As such she didn’t need to understand it completely. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel like it was directed at her. She had been chewing a bite of her roll, but slowly stopped to just stare at the guard so quick to promise things he didn’t truly understand because it was right. He was right. He was beyond right. It wasn’t about her. She wanted to kick herself because of how stupid she had been acting lately.

She dropped the last bit of her roll as she quickly swallowed, “Excuse me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

With that Darin all but ran out of the inn. She didn’t see Ulice get up to follow only to have Mrixie quickly grab her arm to prevent her from doing so. He quickly shot another glance at RIdahne to keep her from doing the same. Then he grabbed the last bit of the roll and another one to follow the young adult. When he exited, he realized that he couldn’t see her due to the swiftness of her retreat. With a scowl he returned to his place on the bench. He wrapped both of the roll in a napkin.

He asked the warrior, “Is this a habit of hers? To run off in order to avoid showing emotion in front of others?”

Meanwhile Darin had run pass the city and deeper in the forest. A swarm of uloia followed to provide light. Darin collapsed as she wrapped her arms around the trunk of the nearest tree. She then proceeded to be sick. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so self-centered? It wasn’t about her. It had never been about her. She wasn’t The Seed-Bearer for her. She was The Seed-Bearer for Astra, for the Children of Astra, for The Gardener and The Tree. She had spent the last however long worried that she was doing it wrong, about what it would be like to be alone, to live practically forever. It wasn’t about that. It was about ensuring that Astra, that the Children of Astra, had the best chance to survive. She couldn’t worry about whether or not she was doing it wrong. She had to worry about what was best for Astra and what she was doing, what she had planned, was what was best of the Children of Astra. That would have to be enough. She slowly got back to her feet. It would have to be enough. She couldn’t start doubting herself now. She couldn’t start worrying about her future now. It wasn’t about her. It was about others, her mother, Ridahne, Thomas and Milla, all the people she thought she might love.

She stood on shaky feet and regretted being sick. Her mouth tasted horrible. She also regretted her desperate flight away from the inn and so deep into the forest. She had no idea how long she had been running and had no idea where she was. Thankfully the trees of Lihaelen were more than willing to lean slightly in the right direction as the uloia floated ahead to light the way. What was she going to tell Ridahne? She needed to stop just running off. It was odd the that the warrior hadn’t followed though it was possible that Mrixie had stopped her. Darin wasn’t sure what to think about that. It seemed to take forever to get back, but that could be because of the fact that she was walking rather than running this time around. That didn’t change the fact that soon she was back at the inn. She lingered for a moment, unsure if she wanted to go in. Would there still be enough time for the Oijh tonight?

That was another thing that wasn’t about her. She had asked for it, and Ridahne had been willing to do the work, to make the change, to risk the ire of the Sols and her people. Darin should be more than willing to do the first strike of that was what Ridahne requested. She should be overjoyed. She should be honored beyond all measured. Yet she couldn’t get rid of the feeling of apprehension that she would do something horrifically wrong. What if she dropped the needle? She had seen them before while RIdahne worked on the tattoo on her calf. There were tiny! Even smaller than the quill she hated. Or what if she accidently poked to hard or not hard enough? Or what if she slipped and poked in the wrong place? Darin began pacing a short distance as she constantly reminded herself that this was an honor. She was not going back in the inn until she believed it.

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Ma’am! Bleh. She wasn’t not a ma’am. She made a poor approximation of a ma’am. Katrina gave her had a shake as she refocused. Now was not he time to wonder about her being a ma’am or whatever. There was a battle to fight and a victory to be claimed. She couldn’t afford to lose track of where she was or what she was doing. She had removed herself from the main battle to defend the musician. There were others that had done the same. Hopefully, there would be no lives lost in this battle, especially since it was not against the true enemy.

Then a roar filled the air and the wolves turned to face the Leonin. It was an excellent distraction, but Katrina had to question the wisdom calling all of the attention to oneself, especially in a battle with these many wolves. It didn’t matter. Katrina planted her rapier in the ground and placed her knife hilt between her teeth in order to draw her bow. It was an easy thing to restring in and soon she had arrows flying with deadly accuracy at the retreating wolves. Arrow after arrow flew. This was not a method that would last forever. She needed a better method and quickly.

Then the music from the small musician filled the air. Stunned Katrina turned to look at him. She knew a little bit about magic, not enough to do it, but enough to realize what type of song was being played. It wasn’t being played well, but right now it was the best song Katrina had ever heard. Strength, with this Katrina would be able to wield her broadsword as if it was her rapier without losing any of the force behind the blows. Her punches would be brutal. Her arrows would fly faster and sink deeper. This was brilliant! Katrina wanted to laugh and sing and dance.

Instead she just smiled a sort of manic grin at the terrified bard as she removed the knife from her teeth, “Well! That’s incredible. Thank you!” She gestured at the rapier, “Keep an eye out on this. I would hate to lose it.” She tossed him the knife, so it landed at his feet, “Just in case one of those beasts get too close. I will want it back.”

With that she unstrung her bow and placed it back in the quiver before drawing her broadsword taking the hilt in both hands she stalked towards the wolves. With a shout she began her attack. This was different from when she had been using her rapier. That had been almost a dance, gracefully, poised, each attack perfectly calculated. This was more of an assault, deadly, forceful, violent. Each attack was still perfectly planned, but it was less about striking where she wanted to strike and more about using the force, she created with each swing efficiently. Each weapon in Katrina’s arsenal required a different technique and style. While she couldn’t claim to be a master of them all she did know them, and she was beyond competent.

Speaking of efficiency Rolf was just as competent. The bird swooped into the battle to attack at eyes and ears with his claws and beaks only to fly out of reach of claws and fangs just in time to avoid receiving injuries of his own. Both companions had been doing this for far to long to get in each other’s way. In fact, they worked in perfect harmony. Rolf would take a set of eyes and Katrina would follow up by taking a head. The human would have her back turned and Rolf would come to pull a tail. The spun around each other and across the battlefield in a deadly dance of steel and claws.

It couldn’t last forever. Katrina was human and didn’t had endless amounts of stamina. It was only a matter of time before a wolf figured out that their claws did practically nothing against her steel armor. Soon, a particularly clever one lunged with its teeth to sink in Katrina’s unprotected arm right at her elbow. She let out a shout of pain as she tried to shake the creature off. It didn’t work. She dropped the stabbed the sword in the head of another enemy and left it there as she reached into her cloak to pull out another knife with her free hand. That knife was sunk into the neck of the wolf that still had hold off her arm. The wolf let out its own shout of pain and let go. Katrina kept ahold of her knife and it left the wolf. She kicked it to get it further away from her. How many of these wolves were there? How many had they killed already? How many where there left to kill? And where were those kidnapping werewolves? Too many questions, not enough time to think about it, still a fight to be won.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

The book was confusing, and it hurt Darin’s head. There were a lot of words that looked familiar, that should have been familiar, that weren’t. She had to sound out many of the words and she was sure that she was getting it wrong. She wanted to scream in frustration but didn’t want to upset the silence. She was also positive that more than one of the librarians were taking turns just wondering over here to check on her. With a scowl she slammed the book shut and stood up. She carefully put the book back on the shelf and moved to exit the Archives.

Before she left the attendant at the front desk called out, “Your companion needs you back at the inn.”

Darin turned to bow in deference to an elder, “Thank you. Have a nice night.”

The librarian bowed in respect to a student and then Darin left. She didn’t want to go back to the inn. She knew what Ridahne was getting ready for and Darin was nervous. The Elf, on more than one occasion, had mentioned Darin doing the first strike. The human wanted no part of it whatsoever. She couldn’t even hold a quill. She was certain that one way or another she would mess it up. Without thinking about it, Darin found herself wandering. She needed to stop that especially since Ridahne was probably already at the inn and Mrixe was probably torn between doing his actual duty of seeing to The Seed-Bearer’s comfort and his supposed duties of watching the traitor. The human supposed that if they stayed here too much longer, they should stop separating, if only to make his job easier.

Eventually Darin found herself in the market. She wondered about with people looking at her strangely. It was to be expected after the previous night. As such she kept to herself as she weaved though the dying traffic. Evening was coming fast, and people were closing up stalls and hurrying home. Darin did her best to stay out of the way. She had no real goal, but she supposed she couldn’t linger for long. As such she slowly meandered back to the inn. She had still yet to come up with an argument for why she shouldn’t be tattooing Ridahne, but maybe she would after she saw the warrior. Somehow Darin didn’t think so.

Darin spotted Mrixe in the bar portion of the inn talking to anther guard. He waved her over, “Ah! Mr. Lively.” He pointed at his companion, “This is Ulice Macs. She’s good stock and will be keeping an eye on you and your companion tonight. Will that be acceptable?”

Darin shrugged, “I’ll have to ask Master Torenzi.” She told the new guard, “You were there last night, right?”

She nodded, “I was. I keep my promises.”

Darin nodded, “Just making sure.” She gestured towards her room, “I best be headed up.”

Mrixie scowled as he pointed at an empty spot, “I have an inkling of what you two are planning for tonight. You will both eat something before you do. Especially since the last meal was the pastries this morning.”

Darin thought about arguing the point, but then it figured it gave her an excuse to put off her part in the ceremony tonight so sat down without too much of a fuss. It wasn’t long before the server put down a bowl of what looked like fish stew. Darin carefully tried a sip. It was delicious and soon she had finished the whole bowl. She took the roll that came with the soup and used it to mop up the stew she couldn’t get with her spoon. It was how she had always eaten soup or stew. It would probably seem barbaric in some places, but it was how she avoided wasting any food.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Darin didn’t know as much as she would like about Azurei culture, but even as a human the gesture Ridahne used was strangely intimate. Darin had meant it as a joke, yet Ridahne had seen through the shaky laughs and tired smile to see a truth that the human was struggling with. Darin had to bite back a sob as the warrior pressed their foreheads together. How was Ridahne so good at this, at loving, at saying what needed to be said? Was it practice like the Elf implied it was? Darin let Ridahne go back to the research. She felt her friend’s absence keenly.

Without thinking about it her head craned back to look at the canopy above her. It was an old habit, looking up at the sky to think or look for rain. There was nothing to see her except the rustling leaves. Darin heard creaking noises and shot a sharp look at the nearby branches and trunks. There was the air of a child would had been caught in the act and scolded removing their hand from the sweets jar. Darin may have wanted to see the sky, but she wasn’t going to have a repeat of last night. The creaking noise stopped, and Darin crack a smile.

It quickly disappeared as she looked down at her hands. One was clasped in the other as she kneaded her hands in another old habit. This one was an end of day chore designed to work the stiffness out of her joints and tendons. As she did so she thought. It was a sobering thought to know that if she asked for it Astra would tear itself apart and sink into the sea. She couldn’t imagine doing that. She couldn’t see a reason for that. Yet her emotions were getting the better of her and in those emotions were subtle requests. She may not consciously ask for it, but if she got angry enough or depressed enough it would be easy to loss track of what was happening. Astra would be no more before she could stop it. She found herself reentering the Archives. She had research of her own to do.

The person at the desk looked up as she approached, “How can I help you?”

Darin sank into the bow of a student towards a teacher, “Um yes. Thank you. Can you tell me where I can find books about controlling your emotions? Well not your emotions. I mean for me. To control my emotions. In Common please.”

The woman cut off her babbling and gave her a location. There was another bow from Darin and more babbled thanks and then the human was off. It didn’t take her long to find the books. It took a little bit longer for the girl to decipher the titles. Thankful there were no nearby attendants to make fun of her sounding the words out loud. She found a thin book with a title about meditation. Darin had a vague idea of what that was. She had no idea what it was. She sat down with her legs crossed and her ankles on her knees as she gingerly opened to the first page. Oh, there were lots of words. Darin’s face screwed up in despair as she started reading with a whisper. This was going to take a while. She would probably be here until she got kicked out or Ridahne came to get her. Or until she got frustrated and stormed out of the building. Whatever happened first.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Going outside had not helped Darin the way that it was supposed to help. She still felt like she couldn’t breath. She still felt like she was shaking uncontrollably. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know that she wanted to do anything. Then Ridahne’s hand came to clasp her shoulder and it was such a jarring difference from the inner turmoil that Darin was facing that the human found herself focusing on that. The Azurei’s hand acted as a focus to ground her in to the here and now as she slowly remembered how to breath. It appeared that try as she might Darin just couldn’t hide her panic from Ridahne.

She started to speak, “It’s just that.”

She trailed off without finishing. What was she saying? Hadn’t Ridahne talked her down from her panic about being The Seed-Bearer just last night? It wasn’t fair of Darin to expect her to do it again so soon. Besides she was panicking over something so stupid. It didn’t make sense to worry about something so many countless of years from now, especially since getting to that point depended solely on Darin not screwing up any time soon. Darin had to be honest. She was trying her best but that didn’t seem to be good enough. So far the only things she had managed to do right was freak people out by causing nature to do things it really wasn’t supposed to do and practically bully an exile into changing her entire cultural just to suit her silly whims. Those didn’t seem like things The Gardener would do, and wasn’t she suppose to be emulating him?

So, Darin just smiled even though the grin was kind of shaky, “It’s nothing I was just being.” There was another pause, “Silly. I was just being silly.”

Something, Darin, wasn’t sure what, told her that Ridahne wouldn’t react well to the human calling herself stupid. Darin wasn’t sure what to make of that thought. For some reason she found herself thinking of the night she had introduced Ridahne to The Tree and the sudden hug that had come after that meeting. Darin still didn’t know what that conversation had been about, but Ridahne had been more confident ever since. In fact, Ridahne seemed more confident ever since they left the Farm. Darin just felt like she was floundering over and over again. How could so many people have faith in her when she had so little in herself.

Darin laughed lightly and deflected just a bit, “I’ve never used a quill before. It’s thinner than the writing instruments I’ve used before.” She rubbed at her hand, “Using those hurt and the quill was just worse.” Her smile grew wider as she held up her hands and flexed her fingers, “I can write, but I’m no good at it. My hands are meant for hoes and shovels and digging in the dirt, not quills and ink and writing on paper.” She jokingly poked Ridahne in the shoulder, “Just another way you out class me isn’t it?”

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

The good thing about this story, I think, is that we could continue with as many people as we've got as well as a few less. It would be sad to see them go for sure, but the story could survive. That being said it doesn't seem like anyone is planing to just disappear. So that's a good thing.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Outlive her children? Outlive her grandchildren? Suddenly the truth of that hit Darin like a ton of bricks. The work they were doing, both here today, and in their whole trip, would outlive Ridahne, and her children and her children’s children, and her children’s children’s children. It would outlive Ridahne’s descents for more generations than Darin cared to count at the moment. And yet she would get the chance to count them. And she wouldn’t just count the generations of Torenzis. She would count the generations for Thomas, for Milla, for more people than she could fathom. Darin would outlive them all.

She wouldn’t even be remembered. How many generations did it take before The Gardener’s name was forgotten? How many more until his true mission and home had faded into myth and legend? How many generations until no one knew him as a man and only knew him as The Gardener? How many years until all the people he knew personally had died? How long did it take until he had been a stranger, a myth, a legend, an untouchable, in a land he had helped create, but would never be home? How long until his family and friends were gone from anyone’s memories save his own.

Darin’s hands came up to grip tightly to her hair and skull as she stared unblinking at the ink that wouldn’t come up. How long until the only piece she had of Ridahne, her mother, Thomas, Milla, Talbot’s person, Harris, and others were only her faulty memories? She had planned for a life that was sixty, maybe seventy, years long, if her own clumsiness didn’t kill her first. She could barely comprehend living to Ridahne’s one hundred and three years. How could she live a life that was practically timeless? Her breathing was becoming sharp and erratic. Ravi said it was her, that it had always been her. Yet each realization, each truth that Darin finally forced herself to see, made her feel that much more lackluster. She was human. She was flawed. She was damaged. She was no one’s favorite. Even RIdahne, who she adored beyond all measure and couldn’t imagine a life without, was only here because it was her thigh The Seed was strapped to.

She looked at Ridahne with a pained smile on her face, “You’re right. It’s a lot of pressure. I didn’t realize how much when I asked you to do this.” She stood and forced a laugh out, “It still needs to be done, but we can take a break. The books aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Let’s get outside for a moment.”

Darin was quickly gathering papers and closing books. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t seem to control her breathing. Darin tried desperate to not let Ridahne see that. She needed to get out of this room. She needed to get out of this building. She needed to just breath. She couldn’t breathe. She just didn’t want it to seem like she was running. She was so tired of running, running form Ridahne and from responibilites. She just wasn’t sure how she could handle the weight of the world when she couldn’t even breath. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking and she dropped the papers that she was holding. She was moving too fast. Her limbs were jerky. She tried to collet the drawing again. They scattered again. Darin suddenly jabbed her nails into the flesh of her arm. She needed to get a flipping grip! She needed to breath!

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

@Tsar Gatto

The tags are kind of misleading. You have it tagged as both small group and large group. So it's hard to know what you, as the GM, are looking for.

But then again I'm not the best person to ask. Every group role-plays that I've been part of on this site has fizzled quickly. So in my experience group role-plays just don't work. I'm hoping this one goes better, but we already have people dropping.

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

@JJ Doe

I hope that was okay. It was just to good a chance to pass up. I can change it if you like.

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Katrina Valance needed work and she needed work badly. Even throwing out the fact that she and Rolf needed to eat just taking care of all her weapons was a costly endeavor. She never had enough money. It didn’t help that she was trying to stay discreet. There were certain people that she didn’t want to find her. So, she didn’t take jobs that she knew she could handle easily simply because they were too high profile. She found herself chasing off practically harmless monsters from farmers’ fields. Well, the warrior supposed that wasn’t completely true. The monsters were harming people’s livelihoods, and Katrina truly didn’t mind assisting them They just couldn’t pay much, and she felt bad for taking more gold than the job was honestly worth. At least the farmers and their families wouldn’t let her and Rolf leave without full stomachs.

Which brought her to now. She had heard tales of werewolf harrying people. Well that just wouldn’t stand. So she had strapped on every blade and weapon she had and made the trek. Katrina was not the only warrior that had heeded the calling for fighters. She looked around at the people assembled in curiosity. That one looked like a child, and that one looked like a vagabond pretending to be something he wasn’t. There was a Leonin, several Half-Elves, what looked like a Half-Orc, and more than a few humans. It certainly was an odd bunch. She was far from the oddest one here.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t odd. She was decked out in riding leathers, steel armor, and just about every type of weapon imaginable. That wasn’t even an exaggeration. She had more than enough knifes, at least five different types of swords, a bow and arrows, a whip, and those were the ones that were easily spotted. She also had a ball and chain around her neck, a poisoned ring on her finger, and each hair stick in her tightly braided halo of chestnut brown hair doubled as a sharp pointy thing. There were also countless knifes hidden in her boots and coat. She wasn’t the tallest one here, but she still felt like she towered over the, with her solid form and perfect posture. Her grey eyes were hard, unrelenting, and unforgiving. She had clearly some for a fight.

She listened to the Duchess’s captain as she twirled a silver edged dagger around and around and around over and over again. Her eyes were not on her dagger or on the speaker. Instead they were on the forest that contained the threat. Her already hardened eyes narrowed at the fact that the werewolves were also kidnappers. That had not been in the information her contact had given her. This whole thing just kept getting better and better. Katrina scowled. Why were they wasting time on chitchat when there were children in danger?

Finally, they were cut loose form the talking. Katrina headed into the forest as she let out a soft clear single note whistle. Rolf, her great hawk, soared from the trees to sink his talons into the leather shoulder pad designed for that purpose. He was clearly a warrior’s bird. He had on a breastplate that matched Katrina’s. What could she say? She was a fighter and a monster hunter first and foremost. She was also a woman, and was vain enough, and self-aware enough, to like looking good and put together. So,if it meant Rolf matched, the bird would have matching accessories.

It wasn’t long before the group actually encountered the natural wolves that the werewolves had somehow dragged into their pack. Katrina scowled at the distraction, but she still fought as if her life and the lives of others depending on it. She had drawn the rapier from her hip and was using both the silver dagger and the sword to hack and slash her way through the pack. It wasn’t an easy fight at all, but it wasn’t difficult. It was mainly just tedious. From the corner of her eyes she could see others fighting their own wolves. Just how many of them were there?

Then from the corner of her eye she saw one of her companions in trouble. She planted the rapier in the ground, reached into the pouch on her thigh, and threw the throwing dagger in one fluid motion. The knife embedded itself in the side of the wolf. Another whistle from her and a pointed finger had Rolf diving at the wolf’s eyes with his talons. Katrina yanked the rapier out of the ground and practically stalked towards the three wolves circling the small warrior messing around with an instrument. The fighter could only hope that he was a music-based mage of some sort. She kicked a wolf with a grunt as she stabbed the creature with her knife.

She planted herself between the person who barely came to her knees with her sword held in front of her face and wisps of hair escaping her braid, “Get that fixed!” Her voice was harsher then she intended as she order, “Now!”

@JJ Doe