Drache

[Ebonfort] Days of Grass and Dust

It didn't escape Asher's notice that Verissa struggled to rise, but he didn't stare at her openly. Verissa would find that in a crowded Kvaren camp where the language was partly visual, staring wasn't just rude, it could be considered eaves-dropping as well, so the people had an indirect way of observing each other that relied on subtlety and averted eyes. Unfortunately it could come across as deliberately ignoring her.

"There, good!" he praised the dogs when Verissa finally released them to eat, wiping the grease from his fingers to his pants, watching them scarf down the fresh bacon as their Mistress heaved herself up off her bedroll. The more Asher watched them, the more impressed he became by their stoic loyalty to Verissa, especially because they seemed younger than he had first thought.

Asher was resting on one knee to attempt bribing the ridgebacks, but now rose and looked down as he considered Verissa thoughtfully. "Give me your hands," he requested firmly, and lifted his own to take them if she didn't offer them readily. He said it in Kvaren first, and then repeated himself in accented Common. It was habit he fell into from then on, letting his slave learn the words and the signs.

"I am used to cooking my own breakfast, Verissa, there is no need to say sorry. If I want something from you, I will ask," he promised solemnly, unlocking her manacles one at a time and letting them fall back to the post with a metallic clatter. "And if there is something you need..."

"You said last night that my dressings will need to be changed. When that is done, you will go to the Healer's Tent to learn from Shenzi. It is good that you are skilled with medicine, for both of us." He smiled briefly, but it was gone in an instant as though he wasn't sure he was doing the expression correctly.

"And then tonight you will help me with supper to save time. The Thunderfang camp is going to be moving in a few days so we have to pack." He lifted his hand to his chin, scratching his fingers through his long stubble, the thought of all the work he had to do making him feel exhausted already, especially with the deep ache in his neck and shoulder.

"But first, breakfast. Go, take your dogs out. Just..." he held his breath for a moment, steeling himself for unpleasant words, "I'll only warn you one time. Do not try to run away. You are too far from Ebonfort lands to make it back without getting caught." His tone was stern, but rather than threatening he seemed almost...pleading. He lifted his hand again, wanting to cup Verissa's chin with his thumb and forefinger to lift her face so that he could see her eyes, but he faltered at the last moment and settled for running the backs of his fingers down a lock of golden hair framing her face.

Asher turned back to the stove to tend the pancakes, flipping the first three onto a plate with his spatula and pouring batter for several more, sprinkling them with cinnamon while they cooked.

Ebonfort

The abandoned RP A Knife in the Dark between Verissa Beatrix Greenlakes aka Trix and Galawynd Elsinal has been reviewed. @Twhirtley

A Knife in the Dark (Ebonfort)

Reward Review

Verissa Beatrix Greenlakes aka Trix

Skills
Herbalism: 2
cooking: 5
Shielding: 1
Writing: 1
Mathematics: 1
Intimidation: 1

Knowledge:
Suspicion: It's Unsafe to be a Mage in Ebonfort
Desire: I Should Get a Dog (or a Man)
Consideration: Perhaps I Should Settle for Edoward

Other
n/a

--

Galawynd Elsinal

Skills
Stealth: 4
Observation: 3
Acrobatics: 1

Knowledge:
Stealth: I Should Camouflage My Hair

Other
n/a

@Twhirtley

Ebonfort

Drache's 1st Article: The Thunderfang Tribe

Ebonfort

Lore update:
Drakkoth
Faerie Dragons
Anuirean humans
Roc

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

At the dark belch of smoke from the corners of Genrit's mouth, both of the other two dragons shifted warily, their tails coiling across the ground to make their tough scales hiss across the worn stone that surrounded Genrit's cave. No matter how civilized their city might have become, they were still dragons, and Harroks were always itching for a fight, even Mojavico. But as the white drake turned to glance down at his painful leg, Mojavico and Vesenthicar exchanged a smirk. The copper's expression became a shrewd stare when Genrit started off his story with an insult, his spinal frill rattling slightly and his teeth bared. But he relaxed as the explanation wore on, and ended up gazing thoughtfully at the larger drake, his metallic tail tapping a bit where it had curled around his talons and claws. He glanced up at Vesenthicar, who shrugged her wings.

"An interesting tale, certainly. Almost unbelievable, actually, if not for your apparent ignorance." Mojavico chuckled dryly. "Whether or not you appreciate what we've managed to accomplish matters very little to me. It's not my responsibility to convince you, though if you choose to accompany us then it will be my duty to make sure you abide by our laws. Chiefly among them include not eating everything in sight, challenging every drake you see, or sitting on anyone. I recommend you at least come meet with a Signatory at the Hall of Records to put your name down for your territory."

Vesenthicar drawled rudely from her high perch, turning her head so that the sun gleamed off the curve of a broken horn. "Might even be something in it for you, and I don't mean just getting yourself fixed up. Though, I'm not sure Myriatheos'Anthana would take you if you don't have gold to pay. Can tell by looking at your scales that you're not well off."

Mojavico shut his nostrils at the rude comment, rolling his eyes so that only Genrit could see. Dragons rolled their eyes just like any other person, but something about Mojavico suggested he had picked up mannerisms from fleshlings as well. "If he doesn't set fire to half the city when he sees it, I'm sure she will be happy to see him, Sky Talon."

Vesenthicar heaved to her thick talons and let her short but powerful wings fall open. "We'll see. But that concludes our little audience here. Now that this one's been informed, we can kill him if he causes trouble." With a couple brief flaps as she leaped skyward, the Sky Talon departed, circling back to wait for Mojavico.

As soon as his leader moved to leave, Harrock Mojavico stood to follow suit, his ray-like wings glimmering with mixed copper and green. Under the wings he even had some faint striping down his sides. "It was a pleasure to meet you Genrit'Khaath. I'm glad to know that there are still dragons living in the wild, even if I have no intentions of joining them."

He backed up to give himself some room, his neck curling to watch Genrit even as he sprang into the sky, giving the white drake a chance to join them as he and his superior turned northwards.

[Ebonfort] Days of Grass and Dust

@Twhirtley

[Ebonfort] Days of Grass and Dust

Starting Date and Time: Jedayan 1, 300 DM, morning

Starting Location: Thunderfang Camp, Kerawac (Valley of Screamers)

CS URLs: Asher & Verissa/Trix

The long night passed in fits and starts of restlessness for Asher. Not only did his body ache with innumerable injuries and the confining awkwardness of his bandage, but his chest was tight with his own inner turmoil and thoughts of Brynmore and his wife. Not only that, but as the Swordmaster was used to the sounds of the camp, the grumbling of horses, the barking of dogs, the sound of the wind, the infinite different sounds of people muttering, cooking, laughing, fucking...it was a noise much closer at hand that bothered him: Verissa crying. He wondered how other men did it, how they could stand to be responsible for such gut-wrenching noises of fear and despair? Did most slaves not cry? Or perhaps he was simply too soft on a maid from Ebonfort?

Morning arrived as a rapid lightening in the sky, promising to be clear if cold from the constant wind. A rooster began to crow early and Asher didn't waste time getting up, running his fingers through his longish hair and pulling back the partition. Clad only in loose linen trousers, his bandages, and the aged yellow fang pendant hanging around his neck, Asher shuffled over to the stove to rekindle the blaze inside and heat the cooktop. He glanced over at Verissa's bedroll often, noting the watchful eyes of the two ridgebacks, but he didn't rouse her yet. There would be plenty of time for to put the girl to work later. He could afford to let her sleep on her first day in camp. Her first day as someone else's property.

The sounds of copper cookware rattled where Asher worked, in spite of his efforts to keep the noise to a minimum. The small iron stove heated up and the sizzle of grease-fat filled the tent, preceding the scent of frying bacon as the kvaren man tossed it piece by piece onto his skillet. The bacon would take the longest, so after he had sprinkled it with a mix of black pepper, cayenne, and brown sugar he turned to a second, smaller skillet. It only took a few moments to mix water from a jug into a few cups of flour with sugar and milk and eggs, whisking it all together in a bowl set against his abdomen until the ingredients bubbled together. Scooping blobs of it out onto the skillet, he started the flapjacks, teasing the edges with a wooden spatula. As the bacon shriveled, he attempted to bribe Verissa's dogs with small pieces, murmuring to them softly in his own language.

When it came to making a breakfast that was as tasty as it was serviceable, Asher had a fairly good idea of what he was doing, though he made a bit more mess than usual due to a certain amount of laziness brought on by a painful arm.

Ebonfort

The rp So Much White Hair between Alya Eloen & Rilana Aurorime' is now done and needs a review.

[Ebonfort] So Much White Hair

The troubled Moon Fey watched with appreciative fascinationg as Alya lifted the flute to her lips and began to play. Rilana had always loved music, and while flute players were common enough in Frigmount, Alya's style was special. Even without the magic woven into the tunes and tones, the melody would have eased her into sleep, so it was merely moments before the pretty fey found her eyelids drooping. Shifting around, she arranged her bedroll and her furs to accommodate her and her friend, as well as the unlikely collection of creatures who would no doubt wriggle their way between their Mistresses as the temperatures outside continued to plunge. Rilana didn't even manage a 'thank you' before she was asleep, but for once she drifted off without her silvery eyebrows creased together with worry and apprehension. Bad dreams did not plague her that night, though the storm that started up the next day would be nightmare enough.