Ryvauld game (Saphire)

[Arbuthnott]

“The bridge is maybe a days march, an’ the town is probably half that. There ain’t no path in these parts, but if you head in that direction you’re bound to come across people eventually; they’re a loud and colourful folk, and it’s usually easier to find them than get away from them, eh?”

Looking over his shoulder at the pink sky, Hortar gives you a slap on the back. “That’ll be sun rise, lass. When you get your bearings up here, the sun comes up in the east, moves south, and goes does in the west.” Thinking for a moment, he adds “The town’s westwards, so the sun’ll be behind you. Might make things easier to begin with.”

[Fallout_Monkey]

Lords, Saphire thinks I'll have to endure hours of this light. Better head west to Oaken Mawr. Then I can plan to look at that bridge later.

"Wonderful," She says. "That's useful advise. I'll be sure to look you up when I come back this way. Thank you for your help." She respectfully gives him a forearm handshake. "Are you ready, Blottur? Anything you want to say to Hortar be we leave?"

[Arbuthnott]

Hortar clasps your forearm firmly. “Aye, I’ll keep an ear out for you. Travel well, and take what you can. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Blottur skips over to you when called. “I’s ready, miss. There’s so much out here!” He laughs to himself, before shyly looking at Hortar. “Thank you, mister. You’s be okay; the rock sings when you walk.” And with that parting comment, you and Blottur begin your journey across Ryvauld, leaving a perplexed Hortar staring after you.

You are used to long journeys, having travelled far through the underdark, but you barely notice time passing as you see the strange sights of the surface. Long plant-growth sways in the wind just beneath your nose, vibrant greens and dusty yellows. A small rodent with long whiskers and an even longer tail scurries past you before vanishing into a tangled shrub. A loud caw draws your attention upwards to a small feathered beast, wings outstretched and talons gleaming in the starlight as it floats aimlessly on the breeze. As your gaze is upturned, you see a large grey mass floating in the sky; shaped like a glassblower, a bulbous end is quickly thinning and elongating as it is pulled through the sky.

As you walk, the pink of the sky behind you gradually grows brighter and brighter as it spreads out across, turning almost orange in a way eerily reminiscent of flame changing colour as it heats. Perhaps this is a good metaphor, as the gradual brightening of the sky stings your eyes worse and worse as it goes on, no matter which direction you face as you walk.

Despite walking west, the moment the sun crests the horizon is as clear as day to you. You dare not turn to face it, no matter your curiosity; the light around you immediately flips from a typical illumination to being bathed in golden fire. The surface world is cold, far colder than the earthen depths you are used to, and yet the light brings you back to the roaring furnaces of your home. Your exposed skin prickles with something reminiscent of faerzress, except angrier. You find some small solace within the folds of your hood, but you are forced to stop as the watering of your eyes obscures your vision.

Blottur turns to look at you when you stop, and gasps aloud when he sees your face. “Miss Saphire, miss! Is you being okay?”

In response to his cry of concern, you hear another voice somewhere off to your right call out in common. “Here now, did you say something Jhiro?”

[Fallout_Monkey]

Saphire puts a finger to her lips to hopefully warm Blottur to be quiet.

"I'm okay" She whispers to him. "Wait a moment. I want figure out if these people are friendly or not."

She quietly tries to get closer to the source of the voice to get a peek at them and she try to listen to the conversation

[Arbuthnott]

Blottur nods in understanding, although he is still visibly concerned about your condition. As you move towards the source of the voices, he moves along behind you.

Despite the conditions, you have plenty of experience creeping through the nightmarish underdark; you navigate your way with ease, even dazzled as you are. Although you struggle to see, you can feel as you approach a clearing in the tall plant-growth, the difference in air pressures as apparent to you as the pungent smell that grows stronger as you approach. Stopping just before the clearing, you crouch down and give your eyes time to adjust as you listen to the conversation.

“I didn’t…. *wheeze* say nothing… *huff* you mangy old goat.” A loud thump of wood on stone precedes an indignant cry. “Bloody hell, this thing’s heavy. You sure we can’t unload it first? I don’t think my back can take much more!”

“We don’t have time, I’ve said already. I told Ahlma we’d get there before the first rain, and we’ll never make it if we need to offload and onload the whole lot.” Now that you’re closer, this voice is more well-spoken than the gruff countenance of its companion.

“Well if you want it done so bloody quickly, you can get off and give me a hand, why don’t you!”

“Give you a hand!? Jhiro, my dear friend, I wouldn’t know where to even start. You built the cart, surely you can fix it without me.”

The conversation continues in a similar vein for several minutes, giving your eyes time to slowly adjust to the burning brightness of a surface day. Gradually, however, you begin to make out shapes through the thin, green plant-growth. Two humanoid figures, both larger than any dwarf you’ve met, standing beside a beaten-up wooden cart, one of its rear wheels cracked near enough in half. The dour man standing besides the wheel is dressed in well-made burlap, his hairy arms tanned and calloused; a far cry from his finely dressed companion, who sports a large hat with a feather protruding from it, a wooden pipe held tightly in one hand.

[Fallout_Monkey]

Saphire's feels for this Jhiro and wants to help but growing up in the deep underground rushing in with compassion gets you killed quickly. She waits a few moments longer trying to assess if this is some sort of ruse or trap. If she senses nothing untoward she will offer to help.

[Arbuthnott]

These being the first surfacers you have ever seen, you struggle to get a read on them. You know little about their culture, save that magic is far more prevalent here than at your home.

A few minutes later, Jhiro hefts the heavy cart on his back and stubbornly kicks off the broken wheel, all the while his companion stands and watches. If this is a ruse or trap, the man acting as Jhiro is extremely convincing, his face covered in a deep perspiration as he breaths deeply after his intense feat.

[Fallout_Monkey]

Well if it is a trap, him being under the cart should give a few extra seconds to get away.

"Well met travelers" Saphire says step where the two men can see her. "Looks like you could use some help. I could find a rock or something to help you prop that up?"

[Arbuthnott]

Both figures turn to face you with similar looks of surprise. The dour man almost drops the heavy cart on himself, but manages to find his footing in time. His finely dressed companion gives a thoughtful puff on his pipe as he considers you. “I say, Jhiro, there’s one of those dwarven things.” Crouching down, he fairly matches your height as he adds “Hello, good dwarf. Are you interested in buying anything?”

The dour man’s face takes on an interesting shade of purple. “Shut your smarmy trading! The lass offered to help.” In a slightly quieter voice, he turns to you with an almost pleading expression. “Would you? This thing’s heavier than a horse, I tell you.”

[Fallout_Monkey]

Saphire attempts to find a suitable to rock to move under the wagon.