Renauld, Oscar, Siwon, Argen - Just Four Dudes Doing Dude Things in the Woods
Despite the differences in opinion on what to actually do, some consensus remained: night was approaching, and they needed to settle down one way or the other. Oscar and Siwon, either driven by caution or cowardice, drove the wagon back down the road for some distance, away from the vision-impairing fog of the hot springs. Accompanied by Argen and Renauld, they worked to secure what land they could. Oscar found it troublesome to stand guard over the wagon however; steam from the springs, as well as the direction of the wind, made too perfect a smokescreen. Knowing the reputation of the monster that laid within, would the fifty or so meters of distance between the wagon’s current location and the outer perimeter of the steam be enough?
Renauld and Argen, on the other hand, had a blast compacting the snow to make solid ground for their tents to rest upon. Last night’s snow had melted just enough during the day that now, it was easily malleable, neither powder nor ice. The two stomped around, and though Oscar would have to get down there to assist with starting a fire, the canvas-tents were set up afterwards without much difficulty. Whether or not it’d be effective or comfortable was another problem altogether: the soldiers would have to find some way to protect their bodies from the cold ice that’d drain their warmth if they laid down. Siwon, of course, wasn’t doing much of anything at all, outside of leaning against one of the exhausted, hungry, thirsty horses by the wagon, a grim expression of grimdarkness engraved upon his devilishly handsome features. One hand on his sword and another hand on his spear, he was absolutely prepared to eviscerate any uncommon monstrosity that presented itself before him, ever the battle-hungry Fiend Knight.
No bloodlusted monster burst out from the steam, however. Yet neither did the girls return to camp. The seconds ticked on. This far away, it was impossible to hear anything distinct from the springs.
Ettamri, Muu - Hot Springs Episode
Though Argen had originally stopped Katya from advancing further, by the time the stranger in the hot springs spoke up, the Phalanx had not decided to put the small priest into a sleeper hold and drag her back with the guys down the road. Instead, Katya, Ettamri, and Muu all remained in the hot springs area, the humid air around them almost akin to a sauna as they got closer to the waters. A bath! A proper bath in hot waters during this winter season, when only parties with fire mages had such luxuries normally! Muu had denied herself of bodily luxuries in her pursuit for strength, Ettamri hadn’t taken a bath in six months, and Katya only received cold water ablutions as part of her Priest training, so a hot bath…that was certainly a special thing.
Ettamri neared the pools of steaming water first, and immediately, she knew that Renauld was right. The humanoid figure before her, casually shoulder-deep in the waters and wholly naked, was indeed Tithemal Dragonscar, the Dragon’s Dervish. Those horrendous ritual-scars burned red in the heat of the waters, contrasting with the motley green of his skin, and his blue hair, a lion’s mane woven with red streaks, was dampened and slicked back to reveal a proud forehead. How long had it been since they’ve clashed? A life time ago, that was what. He was more muscular than he was before, and looked taller as well. There were no true warriors, monstrous or human, that remained stagnant, after all, and the masked warrior got a feeling that even a bounty of five crowns failed to truly communicate how dangerous this orc was. Upon seeing her, Tithemal grinned, his elongated lower canines jutting out of his mouth lopsidedly, as his large, bulbous nose wrinkled. Though of a more graceful physique than the rest of his brethren, the heritage of his blood still remained evident in his face: square-shaped with a wide mouth, a bold brow, and red eyes that gleamed in the white night.
There was no aggression, however, in his movements, as he said, sniffing into the air, “Don’t worry, I’ve no orders to slay without reason, children. The Heart-Drake’s boons are for all. Just…”
Katya, unaware of what an orc even looked like, nevermind an orc champion who slew over seventy soldiers, had already kicked off her shoes and peeled off her socks. She tiptoed behind Ettamri, before cautiously dipping her big toe into the waters. Wow! That was hot! Immediately, her foot retracted, a wince wrenching out of her lips.
“…watch where you step into, fledgling. Snowmelt streams cool certain portions of this spring. I suggest you seek those out before you sacrifice another toe.” A guttural bark emanated from Tithemal, before he settled back into the waters.
Katya flushed for a moment, before nodding vigorously and looking at her surroundings with greater attention than before. Pine trees stretched up above, branches covered in white snow that occasionally melted and fell into the crystal clear waters below. The base of the springs was of many pebbles, and at certain portions, thermal waters rose up from below, miniature jets that disturbed the otherwise still pool. Around, dark, jagged stones ringed the area, some coated with colorful moss, others fractured and cracked from the heat. It was from piles of jagged rock that ice cold water seeped out from: there was evidently some small stream that dripped from there. The twintailed priest immediately beelined for that section of the wide pool, walking barefoot. Testing the waters again, she shivered with delight, before immediately waving at the others.
“Muu! Ettamri! The water’s super good here! Let’s go!”
She wasn’t going to wait for any of them, though. Already, Katya had wriggled out of her robes, popped off the dress she wore underneath, set her staff aside, folded her personal belongings into her clothing, and then promptly stripped off her underwear and dove in. With no extra clothing brought along, it was simply silly to get the one pair of underwear she did possess wet, after all.
The effects of the spring were immediate. Katya let out a long, long sigh as the sweat and dirt from one week and some odd days of existing in Andeave washed off. It was pure bliss. If only they had non-butt meat to eat too. And then lotsa milk.
After some deliberation (or whatever the fuck else Muu did in her empty skull), the Blade Dancer joined the pool as well, leaving only Ettamri still fully armored, watching over them all. It brought another grin on Tithemal’s face.
“May as well invite your men too,” he drawled, pulling a flask of something from his bundle and taking a swig of it. “I’ve no interest in duelling cowards.”
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