An oaken trail

For out-of-game events, wrapping up in-game adventures and rumours.
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ljuslek
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An oaken trail

Postby ljuslek » Wed Mar 22, 2017 7:45 am



She had not intended to make her return known, not yet, not so soon. There was, after all, so much that could be learned without the burden of being seen, without being known. Aleira's commitment to Outentown and the wilds that sprawled beyond and in between it's fields and pasturelands was not a simple one, she could not deign to trust even those folk who best took heed of her advice; yet she could not be seen to mistrust them. So it was unfortunate that circumstances had forced her to show her hand so early, before she could come to know all she needed to know to carry on her work and her duty, but when the warden stands on the side of the huntress; the course of the trail cannot always lead plainly towards it's goal. And that paths bend and crook at the strangest of places was evident to a fault that warm but gusting spring morning in Sarshel's Southern ward, she had waited quite some time for Johlm Tenmar to come tend his business, the one that had so narrowly avoided being reduced to naught by rubble thrown from the Temple of the Triad many moons past - but he came eventually, in boisterous mood or in one more austere? Likely the latter, being a man of tradition and propriety. And just so, it was with seemliness becoming an Impilturan that he was greeted by Aleira, but even for all her manners, precious little time was spent on indulging in pleasantries.


"I seek a gemstone..."


Those first words spoken beyond customary greeting went perhaps without saying, seeing as they found themselves in a jewellers atelier, but Aleira continued to elaborate in short order.


"A specific stone, and the man-... The gnome who has purchased it, perhaps sold it on."


A silver coin was rather abruptly untucked from Aleira's coin pouch and solemnly placed upon the glass display neath which rested fine testaments of the goldsmith's artisanship. Surely, his business had deteriorated in the face of recent hardships, or perhaps it had picked up? The gold, silver and jewels he plied might after all be of more lasting value than coin in turbulent times. Whatever the case, a shining lady offered in exchange for information was a sure sign that the ranger did not seek to waste the man's time, or her own.


"Have you dealt with a gnome in recent moons? Perhaps one with particular interest in Lapiz Lazuli or Blue Aquamarine?"


So it began, the first leg of what Aleira hoped would be a brief divergence from her multitude of paths; this at first glance seemingly hopeless search for a simple gemstone and the merchant who had come to own it. If naught came of this line of inquiry, perhaps the day would bring better news once Aleira saw Outentown? Mrs. Pontek had after all assured that she would ask her husband if he had anything to recall about the selling of said gem, and Mrs. Pontek had certainly proven to be a woman of her plentiful words.














~~Read me~~

This thread is dedicated to all, or at least most things that Aleira Nemesk gets up to that warrant an offline roleplay post.
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Where applicable the thread(s) being referenced will be linked in a spoiler at the start of each post, thank you for reading and or replying.

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Obsidian Sea
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Re: An oaken trail

Postby Obsidian Sea » Wed Mar 22, 2017 1:17 pm

In Sarshel (21st Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets, 1364 DR)

The time for diplomacy was not now, and if coin could meet the measure of Johlm Tenmar's requirements, it was a coin more than Aleira Nemesk had given already. A shining lady in silver, pleasing as she might be to the eye, was hardly uncommon revenue in a store of goods meant for society's most refined. Two silvers given, so then is a substantial response. And this is what he said:

"Every second Gnome is a gemcutter, in my experience, Ms Nemesk. But this is Sarshel, so you are in luck. We do not meet many Gnomes in this port, as you ... might, be aware."

A moment is taken by the jeweller then to understand the connotations of Aleira Nemesk's armour as being something less than urbane - if 'less' were to be measured in price and frippery of garment, or presumptions of cultural integrity.

"As it is, the only Gnome who does regular business in this area - thus for me to make the acquaintance of - is Mr Steamwhistle! Enibar is his first name (he is not from these parts), and if you are to seek him, you had best do it at The Kingfisher next evening. I hear he is back in the city for a time before a permanent stay in Laviguer claims him. The town is well-repaired but demands new businesses, as you can imagine. A risky proposition, but Gnomes have an entrepreneurial spirit about them, Ms Nemesk.

"Any lapis lazuli or aquamarine the fellow has acquired must, I confess, have gone beyond my notice. Heh. Gnomes don't often look for a second opinion on these things from men, you see."

In Outentown (22nd Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets, 1364 DR)

Be it in accordance with her wishes or not, Aleira Nemesk's return to Outentown is made quite official as a consequence of her reunion with Mrs Pontek. A Dwarven shield wall could not keep Mrs Pontek at bay: she was forever required to inform somebody within the village of something, regardless of whether they knew it or not already. To be in receipt of news that might genuinely ruffle feathers and stir interest within the village was ambrosia.

When Aleira Nemesk might next be in the village it's inhabitants are primed to spot the garb; the cloak; and the armaments that tell of her identity more than what a hood can hide. She is greeted richly, with wishes of well-being being thrown towards Chauntea on Aleira's behalf - Silvanus, too, by a smaller number of villagers. Things feel as they should within the village, though it was perhaps not for the Ranger to know the general standard of being among the people. After all, she had come to them when Everwinter was only alluding to itself in the month of Hammer. She had been there for them and cast her cloak like a blanket over the farmers, sheltering them from the clouds as they sobbed out their white dew. For things to be fully operational - nay, prosperous without struggle might be nice to her, but it was nevertheless a new observation.

Prosperity did not injure memory, however. The people know her well, and she is due her wealth of credit for the village's aftersnow success. Even in the heart of winter Outentown had fared as other villages did not. Wagons marked the road through the village. Many were bound for Laviguer, but that had not stopped the village from picking up its share of practical trade. Things go well, and she is welcome to hear and share in this health.

Younger folk within the village are more prompt than their elders to inquire as to the possibility of apprenticeship under the Ranger as it had once been rumoured of. There was a time when once that bud seemed promised to bloom: it need not die, yet.

But there were many things to do, and many paths all sign-posted differently. Here rises one that pointed her towards Vlasta. Etched upon the directional arrow is the word Penance, and she thinks to read the script in both Easting and Damaran. Duty, Love, Error and Opportunity point hither and thither. There were many things to do; many paths to walk. Down which would Aleira's steps carry her first?
Heomar Bloodstone

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ljuslek
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Two setting suns

Postby ljuslek » Wed Mar 22, 2017 6:41 pm

Sarshel, 21st Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets, 1364 DR.

Aleira briefly struggles against huffing her chest as she reads the desire for more upon mister Thelmar's features as the singular silver coin is presented upon his counter; her mind clashes against the crisp reflex of perturbation and triumphs. A bare smile of acceptance is the sign of that small victory, a graceful defeat shines over her before the second coin finds itself delivered just as easily as the first had been; the distinct sound of metal against glass resounding as it finds the counter. Then she simply listens to what the man has to say, patiently and readily.

"Then I will have reason to indulge in their cider this evening, thank you for your time as well as your words."

That was her brusque farewell, for after speaking she turned on her heels to depart. The day was still relatively young, but there was no hope of reaching Outentown proper before sundown and the prospective meeting with Enibar Steamwhistle, the gnome who did not appear to be quite so elusive after all. But before the door was pushed open Aleira turned her head over-shoulder, as if to look if she'd forgotten something. And yes, so she had. She might never become one to strike cunning deals, but certainly she was a woman brimming with earnest well wishes; and one such invocation was offered in parting to the jeweller who had found more silver than he might've hoped that early morning.

"A fair day to you, and a fair trail. Wherever it leads, mister Thelmar."

When evening came, so came the time to visit The Sailor's Star. When last Aleira had found reason to look for an unfamiliar face amongst the evening crowd things had not quite gone to plan, another branch of yet another path. One she wished then and there that she had forgotten, for he featured in it. The man she remembered so well but wanted to forget. Memories of old footsteps did not plague the ranger for too long, however. A game of Chimera's Chance with the barkeep, a tankard or three of cider, good things all to keep reminiscence at bay as she waited for to sight the fellow she had come with more than half a mind to speak to.


Outentown, 22nd Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets, 1364 DR.

Though her proper return to Outentown had been earlier than she had liked, and made an affair out of quite more than she would've wished; it is a home Aleira comes to that mid-morning. Like a distant aunt she greets mrs. Pontek, awkwardly but still with fondness; and it is in a similar way she greets all of those who readily speak with her and approach. Like cousins long forgotten, and in a sense, perhaps they were. Aleira had come after all, from a place not to unlike Outentown. The ranger does not say much of her own accord, but listens and bows her head in lieu of conversational initiative. There is one exception to that rule, however, the young folk who've come to speak with her are asked questions rather thoroughly, just as they are informed what they might expect if they do indeed find themselves under her tutelage. Many days on end spent in the wilds, to learn what to listen for, what to hear and what to see; most of all to learn how. No Unsurprisingly to both herself and those folk of Outentown who had come to know her, she does not heed advice given by lord Nassour - hopeful young women as well as young men are spoken to; but none are given any promises quite yet. There are still things to prepare, after all, still things to be set in order before she can dedicate herself to the delicate task of sharing what she knows.

One such thing beckons then, one of those matters to be set right, just as the sun begins to set upon a day spent speaking with the folk of Outentown, helping how she can in trifles related to the daily goings on. It is the road towards Vlasta that catches her eye in pale evening light, and for a moment it is as if her feet propel her there, but her mind arrests the falls of boots. Not yet, in a few days perhaps. Best inquire with the tradesmen before then, to know that is the proper course. To know well that the impossibly large debt she wishes to be seen repaid will be indeed paid, at least in part, at it's end.





~Subject to many and frequent edits to correct grammar, spelling and other fatal missteps!~

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ljuslek
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Unweary

Postby ljuslek » Wed Mar 29, 2017 6:57 am

So tired, yet so unwearied, at least in matters physical Aleira held more strength than in those of the heart and mind, usually, the opposite was truer. Recent days subverted expectation and habit both. Sleep came irregularly and the way she had felt glad when she saw him, one true and tried habit and one expectation shattered, it was a frightening prospect to be certain, finding predictions miss their mark as ones made elsewhere did so seldom.

Thankfully the strain of righting the cache she had prepared before her long absence from The Reach and Outentown made all such thoughts and emotion flee to the back of her mind; the stockpile of still green yew wood, flax, long hardened clumps of birch tar glue and all the other things she'd need to teach those who'd listen to her their first lesson was still dry, viable for use. Now it needed only to be moved closer to Outentown for matters to be set in motion. For that first important lesson of ensuring that the first weapons her prospective disciples carried with them would be made from the same being she'd teach them to ward. Made of the great, interconnected creature of green leaves, earth and animal she had come to love and treasure so well through the years. It would be a fine introduction, she thought to herself.

Come dawn, Aleira was on her way to set it in motion that plan that had she had let falter for too long. From the fens where the small stockpile had laid protected neath dilapidated stone stairs, canvas and branches of evergreen she travelled back to Outentown which was reached just before midday. There she called on those young folks who had shown interest in learning to come with her, to come aid her shoulder the burden of seeing the materials for the first lesson she would offer them carried to where it would be taught. If any followed, the woodswoman would speak to them on the trail of what they might expect of her; what she would expect of them. If they were reluctant, or too busy tending other matters, she would be forced to make several trips to accomplish the same goal.

If she is followed:
Spoiler:

"It is a level head one needs, to help see grain and acorn in balance. To see fields of rye and barley live in unity with all that is wild around them, one will surely suffer without the other."


Even as she spoke her eyes kept keen stock of what lay just around the trail they walked, Outentown and it's wilder surrounds were hardly teeming full of danger, but just past it's borders and in darker nooks and crannies of wood and marshland they still lingered; threats and wonders both.


"I will be able to teach two of you, the rest? You will learn from those whom I've guided. Learn to make your ancestors smile at the legacy you keep, learn to make the spirits of wood and wild smile on the efforts of your kin and your thaedar. It shant be easy, but it will give reward. A new way of seeing, yes? And a new way of listening."


Any questions asked, she answered as best she could as they walked the trail criss-crossing woodland and hills; with words measured and restrained she did not speak too much nor too little in answer. As the group inevitably reached the long abandoned graveyard overlooking the River Mal on the edge of Outentown she spoke her promise.

"I've a place to wander to before we begin, but when I return to Outentown thereafter - I promise that we will. Those of you who wish to follow me and learn? Seek your lord Nassour. He and his will decide whom will learn from me and who will, in time, learn from those I've taught. He has promised to furnish you with what you will need and to furnish your families with compensation for your absence in their fields."

A breath is taken before Aleira seems hasty to add, the first true show of a sternness so seldom seen in her. One she directs to any young women who might've followed along to share the Aleira's burden and to listen to her words. The desire within her to teach one man and one woman persisting, in spite lord Nassour's advice against it in moons past.

"And you, claim this right from your lord. The right to the duty that you too hold to your legacy; the one of Outentown's continued harmony with the wilds and the prosperity and peace that bond promises to all. Woman, man and child."

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ljuslek
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Upwind

Postby ljuslek » Mon Apr 03, 2017 3:44 pm

The road to Vlasta.


Aleira’s road to Vlasta had been made a longer one than it ought to have been. She had planned to have the wind blowing on her back as she trailed down the mountains to the lakeside hamlet she found herself in now. But things had not been so easy as planned, for her fate adhere to the frequent truth that the imagined trail very rarely survives its first acquaintance with reality. Twice had she had to travel along the stretch of Laviguer Road that ran from the Serpent’s Eye to Sarshel. Once at a pace befitting the arduous length of the journey and a second time with her every effort expended to reach the city as fast as she could, not sparing more than an hours rest at a time. A feat of endurance only fear could bring about, fear for her own life and for another’s. Who did she rush to reach? To who did the twists and turns of her heart lead her to like the road that led her to Sarshel? To him, the man she had so recently mourned and who had now been revived. However difficult it was to realize, she had to find him and his promise of brotherhood. No matter how marred by sorrow and anger her heart was, it was his pledge that gave direction and purpose during that marathon of fear; the one that had now finally come to an end with a glittering view of the jagged rocks that broke the surface of lake Vlasta in midday sun.


Vlasta & Midriakul



Aleira’s purpose in Vlasta and its surrounds were twofold; the first? To see to it that the folk there knew they had a friend in her, yet another soul to heed their call if there ever was a need. The man to whom her heart had rushed took from them not long ago. In return she would give what she could of her coin and more importantly, of her loyalty. So on her first day the ranger sought the woman who many in Vlasta regard as the village elder; trueseed Mirna Arnyar. Without mention of Merney Valroc she offered her pledge, and posed her questions.


“It is a long way that separates Outentown from Vlasta, but I would have you remember my name in case the need to call it ever comes. Nemesk, Aleira."


Her name was given in Impilturan fashion, the family name spoken first. Though it was an uncustomary turn it took when moments later her given one was spoken; almost as if to make a correction. Her questions came soon after, following pleasantries she was more than happy to indulge in.


"I wonder what it is that keeps those of your village fed, clothed and in decent trade? Does your folk suffer or prosper?"


Likely, the truth lied somewhere in between the two extremes, as it always did. And just as likely Aleira knew already what it was that the Villagers of Vlasta did to earn their daily bread. But she asked no less; the truth one sees is not always the one spoken. And the truth? It was of crucial importance in the future endeavour that her inquiries revolved around. If asked what that purpose was and what inspired her questioning? She would readily divulge it.

"I seek to find peat in the bogs near, a resource to bring relief to this village and room for the woodland near Sarshel and Outentown to grow with less strain. But not, of course, at a price too costly to what is wild here."

With questions asked and answered her course was set for Midruakul and the bog she suspected held what she sought. That held part of the solution of aiding the balance of two places; Midriakul's Bog. Fistfuls of dark and rich soil investigated, was there peat here where the folk of Midriakul and Vlasta came to search for iron? What would the cost of a single cut of the shovel be? How might this dreamt undertaking disturb the balance? How might it benefit the same? Many questions, too many to be answered by the soil she prodded and looked through. Too many to be answered now or any time soon. So she departed, after a few days spent in Vlasta. On her way back south she once again ascended the hill that led to Vlasta's Harvest Hall; silently a sum of coin was deposited on one of the benches. A sum adjoined by a pouch of gnomish marbles; surely meant to offer delight to children who had such precious few material objects to find it in.


The road to Outentown


Branches of fir and pine green with splendour that rarely faltered; fallen branches of ash oak and thorn dried and lifeless. All were affixed to her garb under moonlight, just outside of Outentown. A ritual of her own making to call on the favour of the father of all she now bedecked herself in, a plea to make her silhouette one with the land and to make her spirit likewise. The concerns of a flighty future were less here outside the thaedar she had pledged her aid to; the thaedar she had promised to keep in balance as best she could. And so far, yes, her efforts had found success, but with spring came the willingness of the birds to spread their wings and multiply and the willingness of man to spread their homesteads ever further into woodland and untouched meadow. She would see that instinct of man thwarted, not by confrontation or kind words, but by wisdom and cunning.

Under cover of branches and prayer the ranger set forth, to enact a grisly scene of what violence might come to greet those who dared upset the progress of spring. The scene she conjured was one whose brushstrokes were in goblin blood and limbs, those who came to cut wood on the fringes of Outentown would surely find it. And perhaps they would believe it? That the tribes who lingered near stirred in conflict with one another, one that threatened to spill over to their own homes. With hope, they would come to Aleira to seek guidance and counsel. With hope they would ask her what to do. In a few days, she would know as she made her public return to Outentown to fulfil the promise she had given before setting out on her trail to Vlasta.


OOC:
The rolls enclosed in the spoiler below are intended to mirror Aleira's efforts of enacting the above. Her ability to hide her own tracks and to create a believable scene. If it's applicable to a circumstance like this, her favoured enemy bonus vs. goblins at the time of rolling was +4.
Spoiler:
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