Porthca Landing II: Lost & Found

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Eliza reeled back from Val looking horrified from the savage attack against an armored prisoner. “Valerie...what has gotten into you. We just needed the code word.“ she said in a faint murmur as her hands shook slightly and she took a few scared, timid steps towards her friend.
 
As Tyrius and Eliza began to plead with her, Valerie did her best to keep up the cold rage she felt, but it rapidly dwindled and faded. Be the person you need to be... it was Grandfather’s first lesson, but I am not even strong enough for that, am I? Her shoulders slumped as the anger subsided slightly. “I was just trying to help... it would not respond to threats, so I had to...” She stared at the unconscious form and her sword lowered. “I am sorry...”
 
Magnolia placed her head in her hand, at the scene before her.
oh god, the poor kid needs to sit down before she hurts herself.

oh calm down, Val is trying to help and this thing is a piece of shit.

piece of shit or not, it is still a helpless living thing.

Placing a reassuring hand on Val's shoulder, she gently turned the salted knight away from the prisoner and gave a gentle shove. "Go take a breather kid, the bad cop part is done for now."

She was disgusted by the thought of healing the creature, but found herself without another option. Warmth spread from her, restoring some vitality to him. While he regained consciousness, she couldn't help but smile, she didn't heal his hand.

"Alright big fella, the scary maiming woman is gone, now it's time to talk to me. I need that command word, you are going to give it to me. I know a strong fellow like you won't want to, but you are going to. Do you know why? That woman over there, your personal healing slave, she's very dear to the large fellow with the big sword."

Letting her prisoner have a moment for that to sink in before continuing. "He's probably not going to be happy. I can work wonders with my magic, but I can't reattach your head to it's shoulders. So talk, or... Well him." She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at Ander.
 
Once she realised that her particular skills were of no use in removing the manacles, she took a step back to try and think of a solution. Before any bright ideas came to her, however, Niradnam sat down heavily and broke her train of thought. "Woah, hey," she said, running over and trying to help him stand. "Don't use your special magic if it's gonna make you dizzy, okay? Just... take it easy. Let us handle it." Still, he was back on his feet and messing with the carpet quickly enough that Virra soon stopped worrying over him, and began to worry over the chained woman instead.

She watched for a few minutes as the others tried to interrogate the slaver for the code word. She watched Valerie threaten him and stab him, and Ty getting concerned, and Eliza getting upset, and Mags waking the slaver again and making more threats, and Ander standing aside and not looking at any of it.

It struck her how little fun they were having.

She looked towards Tyrius and established a mental link with him. "Hey, Ty. Aren't your family, like, really good with magic things like this? We could bring this lady to them and see if they have any ideas or contacts they could call on." She arched an eyebrow. "Maybe it'd make everyone feel better if we took along this slaver guy and turned him in to the guards, too. Or whatever you think we should do with him -- all I know is that nobody's enjoying the stuff we're doing now."
 
Afternoon of the Eighteenth Day | On the Road to Wyford:

Grimacing at the display before her, Rowanne turned away slightly, looking back when she heard Valerie stammer. Approaching the warlock she gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "Perhaps we should step away for a moment. I was not keen on your plan, and I think you're not sure what you're trying to do." Gesturing she tried to lead Valerie off to the side, and studied the woman, not that much younger than herself. Turning her gaze towards Ander and the lethargic woman, Rowanne spoke again: "I wonder how much of your 'torture attempt' is to try and regain favor with the group after last night."

Banrigg stood to the side, using his maul to lean on as he watched the group, an unsure expression on his face at the sight before him.

Eliza still focusing on her spell thankfully it did not break from the unconciousness of the Orc, and placing it back on him as he groaned back to wakefulness caught snippets of, "Woman not do enough for cost!" his thoughts moved to the pain in his hand the more awake he became, growling at Magnolia. Struggling with the rope for a moment he grinned at the halfling, "Not know 'command word'." He nodded towards the orc that had held the woman's chains originally, "He keeper. Dead. My life ended at loss in fight -- flesh no matter." Sitting straighter the orc stared at Magnolia, "Talked. Finish me. Clan will come, loot, raid! Only slowed, never stopped!" He switched into Orcish, continuing to speak loudly in the low gutteral language, Eliza starting to only hear war chants and rally cries in his mind.

At Virra's words, Niradnam nodded numbly, staring somewhat dazed until clarity slowly returned to his expression. Looking frustrated for a moment he reached into his pouch, retrieving his pearl and worked to sit closer to Ander and the woman. Speaking softly to the Paladin he explained, "I realized ... if these chains have a command word ... that's not too different from the carpet, right? I could try to cast Identify on them, see if it gives us anything to work with ..." He rolled the small pearl between his fingers, "I am not a fan of torture, but I ..." his expression grew difficult, "I think you understand I cannot abide slavery or captivity like this either, but I don't know how else to help."

Placing a hand on the chains that rested on Sybeth he added, "I can cast the spell quickly, it'll only take a minute."
 
Hearing Virra in his mind, Tyrius stepped back from their prisoner and walked over nearer Ander and his friend. Looking at the manacles around her wrists with Magnolia's warning in his mind, Tyrius had no idea how they could even start to break the enchantment so they could be broken open just like any other set of manacles.

"I think that's our best option" replied Tyrius as he walked back over to the Orc, "My mother will hopefully know what to do or who we could go to. As for the Orog, you're right, we can just hand him over to the guards." Tyrius knelt down, fiddling with the strip of wire he used for casting his Message spell, twirling it over and over in his fingers as he stared right at the Orog in thought. "Let's get this guy back to Wyford. He can walk it. Ander's friend can have the wagon" said Tyrius, looking around at the dead Oroc's feet, wondering if he could pinch their shoes for the walk back. Dead men after all did not need them as much as the living.
 
Valerie allowed the halfling cleric to guide her away from the prisoner and stood there watching for a moment before jumping slightly as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She nodded numbly and followed. “Yes... of course, Ms. Rowanne.” A small frown formed on her face. She knew what she was trying to do... didn’t she?

As Rowanne accused her of doing what she had done as some sort of scheme to make the group trust her, Valerie clenched her fists and protested. “That is not true.” She then realized that she was still holding her rapier, making the gesture far more aggressive than intended, and sheathed the weapon as her expression became contrite. “Apologies, Ms. Rowanne... I did not mean to become irate. But I did what I thought had to be done, and I did not wish for anyone else to have to play a part in it. Those things that tormented Ander’s friend do not deserve your sympathies. ” Valerie spoke the last part confidently, but a small voice nagged at her mind. That’s not you...
 
Afternoon of the Eighteenth Day | On the Road to Wyford:

Listening to Valerie, Rowanne merely crossed her arms, "Maybe not my sympathies, but not needless torture that's clumsily done ..." she turned away frowning for a moment. "Just because there are healers around, life should not be played with in such a way, regardless of whose it is." Turning her gaze towards the young warlock she continued, "What if it were you, tied and surrounded, warned that your life was merely a plaything?" Reaching for her holy symbol she squeezed it in her hands, "... no. I do not care for it, regardless of the circumstances."

Having one hand on the manacles on Sybeth's wrist and his pearl in the other, Niradnam worked through the spell of Identify, wincing once it finished then spoke a simple word: "Tomeru." The woman stiffened as a line formed on the cuffs across her wrists and neck, slicing open and dropping to the ground with a soft thud.

Sybeth took a deep breath, tears forming in her eyes as her gaze began to focus slowly on Ander, "... little Ander ...?" a hand reached up towards his face as she smiled faintly, "... when did you ... get so big...?"

Pulling the manacles away from the pair, Niradnam almost acted as though he was going to throw them further off in the grass before sighing. Muttering to himself, "These ... should never exist. The cruelty ..."
 
“It was not...” Valerie’s defense of her actions was disputed before she could even state it as Niradnam’s magic revealed the way to free the woman from her bonds. Valerie stared at the scene, any sense of relief at seeing the woman restored to health rapidly overshadowed by the things she would have fruitlessly done to help. Would I have carried through on my word? The thought frightened her, and as Rowanne’s lecturing continued, she could do nothing but stand in silence. She wanted to protest that they would have gladly done far worse to her if given the chance, and that she was not a monster like them, but at this point, the warlock did not know what to make of herself either. She spoke in a trembling voice. “I know that you have never much cared for me... and I am certain that you only think less of me now. What is it that you want of me? An explanation? An apology? Shall I use a different voice in case you have tired of hearing them from me?” Her cheeks felt wet once more, but Valerie barely noticed. The adrenaline from the fight had long since faded, and the warlock simply felt exhausted.
 
Afternoon of the Eighteenth Day | On the Road to Wyford:

Rowanne's eyes widened at Valerie's words, "No -- that's not ..." she chewed her lip, glancing back at Niradnam for a second. "I have ... unfortunately known someone who did not consider lives beyond his to have value. It's a very dangerous road, disturbing and dark, and I saw the results of it first hand." She picked at her holy symbol, "It still ... it still haunts me, the things I saw while he wore a smile, his concern that I had returned too early before he had 'cleaned things up.'"

The cleric reached out hesitantly to place a hand on Valerie's shoulder, "I am concerned others might become the same as him ... it starts with not viewing someone as living, and your words concerned me." She smiled softly, "I do care for you, but I'm perhaps not very good at expressions, past experiences have made me ... hesitant in wearing my heart on my sleeve."
 
Sniffling, Valerie quietly responded. “I am sorry for all of the challenges that you have faced, Ms. Rowanne... I do not wish to be like him, I just wanted to help... to be worth all of the trouble I put you all through... but apparently I am incapable of even that.” She glanced over to the others by the formerly bound woman and slumped. “I do not suppose that Mr. Niradnam has ever utilized the power of a magic ring to betray his friends and nearly doom countless lives...”
 
Eliza stood unsure between two of her friends, one wracked with guilt and the other...

“Ander...get her to the cart.” She unfurled and activated the carpet next to them and placed a warm hand on the Paladin’s shoulder, “We need to get to the Silverbane manor and stable surroundings for Sybeth. A hot meal and long night’s rest somewhere safe for her is a priority now. I don’t think she is of a mind to answer questions just yet.”
 
Ander smiled with tears in his eyes as he stood up, still carrying the woman. "Sister, it has been far too long." He held her close against his chest as he looked to Niradnam, "please bring those, I might have a plan for em." He continues to walk to the cart, grabbing his axe in the process.

Once there, he places Sybeth onto his own bedroll and sits down on the edge of the back. Rupert jumps up to meet him and Ander pets the small pig as he continues to stare at the Sister. "My friends and I are gonna take care of ya, Sister Sybeth. I promise." He smiled a warm smile as he looked out at the others who had gathered around a concious Orog for some reason. It took a surprising amount of restraint for Ander not to charge over and behead the beast. Ander shudders.
 
"Right. If anybody knows how to deal with these things, it'd be..." Virra began, only to forget the rest of the sentence as Niradnam spoke the command word and dropped the manacles to the ground. "Yes!" she cheered, running up to give the elf a quick hug around the waist before moving towards the woman. "You're free! Now your magic won't be used for..."

That was another thought that wouldn't be finished. She noticed just in time how the woman was looking at Ander, and begrudgingly stepped back to give them space. As they moved off to the cart she gingerly reached out to touch the manacles that Niradnam still held. "Yeah, we shouldn't leave those here. How about finding some way to melt 'em down in Wyford? Might make everyone feel a bit better."
 
Afternoon of the Eighteenth Day | On the Road to Wyford:

"Valerie, people don't need a magic ring to be destructive like that," the cleric gave a leery look to the white mineral ring around Valerie's finger. "However, from what I have seen, if you can control that power, you can do great things, and protect many people." Rowanne gave a faint smile, "You're young, you have time to grow. Just ... remember that desire to help, but temper it with caution and know your limits. Everyone needs to have their lines drawn in the sand, things they will not do or stand for." Heading back to regroup with the others she called over her shoulder, "I suggest you think about yours."

Once more Niradnam was thrown off by the quick moving gnome, nodding at her words, "Yes, they shouldn't be left just lying around." The scholar frowned, "There's a lot of magic layered on these ... if the one in them tries to use magic without permission, the energy is forced back on them, but not enough for death. There's a constant mental haze that they make to make it difficult to put thoughts together, the chained can only use magic with permission ..." He rubbed his brow speaking more softly, "Any mental attempts for conversation spread the haze ... I was dealing with that until it finally faded," returning his voice he continued, "... and even on Identifying the chains, they tried to compel me to put them on instead."

Looking at the others as Ander walked away with Sybeth, Niradnam held the chains in his hands, focusing for a moment the metal began to glow white from heat and he offered it out for Virra or Eliza to touch, "I don't think melting will work. I think they'd need to be dispelled or something -- I can't manage that."
 
Turning purple, Eliza stumbled for a second. “We were supposed to be learning that this semester actually.” She stammers out leaving it at that.

She grabbed the chains and held it out in front of her with mage hand not stomaching the idea of holding such foul instruments. Wrapping it in her old cloak, she threw it back in her bag and took out her notes and a candle for another sleepless night trying to figure out dispel magic too.
 
"Excuse me Liza, I need to borrow these." Mags neatly intercepted the flying manacles from mid air, wrestling them from the magic hand.
Prize in hand she strode over to the orc still on his knees.

"You are hereby places under arrest, to stand trial in Wyford for crimes."
click the manacles locked shut around his wrist. The distasteful act was necessary for their protection, but in some ways repayment for his crimes already...

Heading to the cart, he finds Ander and his friend, her expression has returned to warmth. "Hi Hun, I'm Magnolia. You've been through hell, can I get you anything? Do you need healing?"

She extends her waterskin, knowing full well poor Ander is to distraught to think of such things.
 
The world spins around Ander for a bit. A small piece of his life before this insane adventure, admittedly a while before, is sitting woozy in the cart. He feels a small glimmer of hope before he notices the shackles being thrown on to the final concious Orog.

Without even thinking, Ander yelled "Tomeru!" A word that would forever be seared into his brain. After Niradnam recovered the chains, Ander went over to him and pulled him aside.

"I can't beleive they'd do somethin' so reckless and despicable," he shook his head in disgust. "I'll take those chains fer now, if ya don't mind. I've got me a plan, and havin' them might be key." He held out his hand and took the shackles from the scalor before placing them into his bag.

"Can we please, for the gods' sake, be better than these," he spit at the ground before finishing, "Slavers!" He looked around at everyone. Then went back to the back of the cart and held Sister Sybeth's hand.
 
Lines drawn in the sand... Something about the phrase stuck with Valerie, whether it was the odd sensations she had received from communing with the ring as if she were on a beach, or if it was the bow she had used to dispense her justice earlier. She swallowed her tears and nodded to the cleric. “Thank you for your advice, Ms. Rowanne. I will be certain to do that...” She paused for a brief moment before asking the retreating form a final question. “If there had been no other way... would you have done it? Would you have let a devout holy woman to suffer till the end of her days because of the comfort of the wicked?” She felt like she was retreading old ground with Rowanne, but there was something about that concept that simply did not sit right with her.
 
With Ander's anger still ringing in his ears, Tyrius just stared at the ground. He'd been all for putting the manacles on the Orog, thinking it needed the command word to activate as well as deactivate and reasoning that the strong Orog could easily break free of rope.

'When did you become Judge and Jury, Ty?' thought the red currently dragonborn sorcerer to himself, 'What would Mum and Dad say if they saw this?'

Looking at the Orog, Tyrius fiddled with the wire, playing it through his fingers and twirling it with his claws, staring at the Orog without being able to hold eye contact. Eventually, Tyrius decided to just do what he was thinking of. Holding the wire in front of his mouth and cupping one hand around it, Tyrius pointed with two claws towards the Orog.

"I - don't know if you'd understand Common, and I don't want the others hearing this." explained Tyrius, "I'm sorry - we didn't know those manacles would come back with their enchantment immediately." Tyrius lowered the wire, unsure what exactly he was trying to accomplish. Eventually, he raised it again and recast the spell, "We're - going to take you to Wyford. To be handed over to the guards. Would you tell me your name?"

'Ander's right, we have to be better than that,' thought Tyrius, 'I guess if we're gonna deal with bandits and slavers, we should probably get some manacles. Can probably ask Thomas where to get some good quality ones.' Tyrius just waited in front of the Orog, kneeling in the grass and letting his unbuttoned jacket blow a little in the breeze.
 
And there we have it, Anders weakness, compassion for this filth. If only he had seen what we'd seen in the Empire. Pens full of people in these cuffs; entire slave armies forced to fight to the death and entire towns put to the sword just for saying no...

shut up... He's right though, how would we be any better...

Instead of saying anything, she focused on the task at hand, taking care of the sister who had been through hell. A hell all to familiar to the former slave, former rebel, and now fugitive...

"I know things are dark right now sister, but Hope is like the sun. If you only believe it when you see it you'll never make it through the night." Maybe the words brought her comfort, maybe not. Either way, such words had seen her faith through worse. She would get better, and it would get easier; but she would never forget.
 
Eliza snapped her notebook in a huff, “You are right, Ander. We have no idea what we are doing, but we are trying. We...I...was mistaken. I didn’t know the effects were immediately this severe.“ The young half-orc looked at her splayed hands and stared back at the Paladin with a crestfallen appearance and made her request. “I am sorry, let me try and fix this. A quick identify is not enough, I don’t think. I need to have a longer look at this thing. I might be able to figure out what aftereffects this thing has and how to help its victims heal.”
 
Afternoon of the Eighteenth Day | On the Road to Wyford:

Frowning at Eliza taking the chains, Niradnam gasped at Magnolia snatching them and placing them on the orc. As soon as one closed around his wrists, the rest moved into place, his voice falling away as a haze settled in his eyes, staring off into the distance. Sybeth looked tiredly at Magnolia, managing to mutter, "I'm ... Sybeth..." before she winced at Ander's roar of the command word for the manacles.

As they popped off, the orc falling down to the side, weak and lethargic as Sybeth had been, Niradnam dashed to grab the links before anyone else could, exclaiming, "No one is having these put on! I tried to ignore the torture, but this is too much!" At Ander's question, Niradnam pulled them away for a moment before trusting the paladin, warning, "If they get used again, I will guard them -- no one should ever have to deal with such things -- to use or have used on."

Tyrius' attempts at messaging the Orc were met with silence, the creature only giving a low rumble of any sort of speech, laying splayed on the ground, hands still bound behind him.

Hearing the strange sensation of someone speaking in her mind, Sybeth whimpered in Ander's arms, Magnolia sensing a strong droning sound with the telepathy, making it hard to focus for the halfling. Reaching weakly for her head, the woman shook her head, mumbling, "No ... no please ..."

Pausing at her return to the rest of the group, Rowanne looked back at Valerie, a hard expression on her face. "That is where my line is drawn. I would have worked to aid the holy woman in other ways, and likely merely killed the wicked rather than torture him. Comfort ... does not have to mean one is alive, it can be a mercy, to not delay things or prevent an end to suffering." The cleric looked back at the party, "There are plenty here who are intelligent and knowledgeable, I did not doubt something would be figured out." She smiled faintly, traling a finger on her holy symbol, "At the very least, I would have prayed for guidance."

Standing still leaning on his maul, Banrigg released a heavy sigh, "You lot ... are a mess. But I still gotta protect ya, so if we're ready, think it's time we get back on th' road. If we wanna get miss Sybeth to Wyford, we need ta get goin'." Lifting his maul to rest it on his shoulder, "Think some are gonna need to walk, that wagon's gettin' pretty crowded."
 
Ten points dumb dumb, you forgot how much these things screw with people's brains. You know considering your experiences, I would have thought you'd remember better.

shut up, it's not like you didn't forget as well.

She held her hands in front of her defensively, "sorry! Forgot about the whole headaches and confusion afterwards. On the plus side hun... Every day it's just a wee bit easier. Now let's get you something to eat."

Helping herself to the ration stores inside the cart, she places it near the woman. "Whenever your ready you should eat."
 
Niradnam's description of the manacles' effects had left Virra fuming. "Then we'll get someone to dispel them in Wyford," she declared, reaching out to touch the hot metal. But she didn't have time to reach it before Eliza snatched them, then Mags snatched them, and they were clicked into place around the orog's wrists. Virra's first impulse was to laugh. The slaver was getting a taste of his own medicine, after all -- and it didn't look like he knew any kind of magic, so it wouldn't be as bad as Sybeth had got it. Just a little mental fuzz, she thought.

But the reactions from the others made her pause. Was it really such a bad thing that the orog got to feel what his victim had? Surely that was the purest possible form of justice they could have given him. Had it just been Ander reacting so strongly she might have brushed it off, but Niradnam too... she began to wonder, with some alarm, if there was something wrong with them. Or, worse, with her.

Way to ruin the victory, she thought at nobody in particular. Every day with this group felt like a series of once-in-a-lifetime triumphs separated by lulls where they were all miserable or angry at each other. She wasn't the type to get worn out by a bit of drama, but it all threatened to exhaust her. No, bore her. Just hold on until Porthca, she reminded herself. Wait until you've finished the job you set out to do. Then you can figure out how you feel about these people.

She went for a brief walk away from the cart, picking up Glimmer where she'd thrown it and dusting it off. "This is probably all your fault," she muttered.
 
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