Goriel and beyond, part 4

[Alberich]

In a group of seven, including at least one noncombatant, it seemed to Tim that a "small, fast foot party" sounded like - one man. Himself. So he trotted up ahead of the rest to the crest, and saw what was on the other side.

He called back - "It looks like two men - and a parrot!" He looked again. "A smoking parrot!"

He raised a weaponless hand in greeting to the approaching strangers.

[Drusia]

Therese, however, was finding her attention both fully occupied and divided. Partly, of course, she was focused on keeping the wagon on the road, which was getting rougher and more challenging as it angled up toward the pass. But there was also a distraction back in the wagon itself, where she was coming to the realization that the half-elf priestess who'd joined the group was ... rather attractive.

The new guy is looking at me. He has a very elegant face - strong. I smile at him in what I hope is a friendly fashion.

Well... if no one is going to introduce us, maybe I should say hi?

"Um... hello," I say to him. I scooch around in the wagon and offer him my hand. "Desiree. And you?"

He called back - "It looks like two men - and a parrot!" He looked again. "A smoking parrot!"

I blink and look up at where Tim is shouting. A... smoking parrot? I've heard stories about smoking monkeys, but never parrots....

-- Desiree

[Graybeard]

The young man was fit, Sister Rose had to concede that. He'd scrambled right up a 700-foot climb or so to the ridge, never mind that by doing so, he'd also put himself in a position where it would be hard for the party to defend him. Sometimes fools rushed in. Of course, sometimes, so did reconnaissance units.

"It looks like two men - and a parrot! A smoking parrot!"

Rose wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear from Tim, but she was pretty sure it wasn't that.

"Smoking? As in, cigar, or something like it?" she called. Getting an affirmative answer, she turned to the others in the wagon. "Well, that limits the possibilities somewhat. It's definitely not one of ours, and I think we can safely conclude it's not natural either." She rolled her eyes. "So improbable as it sounds, it must be a familiar, which means Tsuirakuan." She turned to Argus. "And that means that for better or for worse, you're probably in the bull's eye for this encounter." [OOC: Let it be noted that according to Rip's original concept, developed here a very long time ago, he would know Argus slightly -- which I never imagined would be significant, as he was intended for a family of threads that we never thought would touch this one. So some things need to get worked out. Stuff coming by PM, D. /OOC:]

Therese listened calmly to this analysis, nodding her head. Yes, it was hard to imagine this peculiar bird being anything but a Tsuirakuan familiar. She knew there'd been a time, back when she was a child and before that, when the Northern Confederacy had been a popular vacation destination for Tsuirakuan families who wanted to give their children a sense that they were "roughing it," never mind that they'd usually brought enough magical gadgetry with them to run an entire Confederacy city. (She'd have been quite stunned to learn that there were others in the party who had, to put it mildly, connections to that time.) But fashions changed, and that kind of vacation had passed out of style some years ago. Apart from a few traders who didn't linger, she hadn't seen Tsuirakuans anywhere near Goriel in quite some time -- before the arrival of this curious crew, of course.

Either way, this seemed like a comparatively safe time to literally let her hair down and get out of disguise; in fact, even an advantageous one, as she could switch places with Argus and simply become one of the women in the back of the wagon, the better to keep the approaching pair of men from seeing the party as the Gibazov thugs would see them. She swapped places with Argus and shook out her long, red hair, with a glance at the half-elf priestess ... just out of curiosity. "Therese," she said, simply, taking the proffered hand.

[OOC: Feel free to put a few words in Shorty's mouth. Until he notices Argus, Rip will be content to observe, being that that's what anthropologists do. ]

[Drusia]

She swapped places with Argus and shook out her long, red hair, with a glance at the half-elf priestess ... just out of curiosity.

I open my mouth in surprise as a cascade of long, red curls pour free, falling forward as the stranger changes, revealing a bound bosom. She straightens, her hair bouncing around the sides of her face, falling longer in the back. It shimmers slightly - she must have been sweating under that disguise - and I know well enough that sweat makes curls tighten and bounce more. Her body, what I can see of it anyway, is toned and athletic, her arms muscular and nearly hairless. Her pants are a bit loose - I wonder what her legs look like under there.

She's... beautiful.

... and she still hasn't told me her name.

-- Desiree

[Alberich]

The two strangers reached Tim before the wagon did.

Tim had no idea these people had been to any place of interest to him. The place they were going, by all accounts, was off-limits to almost everyone. And he wasn't planning to share any information about their mission with these perfect strangers. It was up to Rose if she wanted to do that. But while he waited for the others to catch up, he did ask Shorty about conditions on the road up north, and learned that these Gibazov patrols were everywhere, wanting to see people's papers (that is, any papers they were carrying) and looking their faces over. This was especially true as you got closer to the mine. Maybe that was keeping the road free of outlaws.

[Graybeard]

"Therese," she repeated, blinking several times; her first introduction had gone unnoticed in the shifting of seats [OOC: Or in that editing on-the-fly that I said we should minimize, which didn't keep me from doing it ... /OOC], apparently. "I -- I hope my disguise didn't disturb you. Such things are necessary sometimes in Goriel."

By the Love of Copulatie, she's beautiful.

And she looks so much like Melusine.

-----------

"I thought you said it was a wagon coming our way," Rip, who was hanging back and letting Shorty do the talking, said sotto voce out of the corner of his mouth, removing Thurston's cigar so he could speak. "And keep it down."

"Rraaawwk. It's down below. Advance guard, obviously." Really, a parrot only had one volume setting, which was "loud", but Thurston tried to do his best.

"Uh-huh. An advance guard who's one of those Veracian god nuts ... partnered with someone who can make rocks dance." He rolled his eyes. "Well, it'll be another interesting chapter for the travelogue, if we survive."

[OOC: A, please write the actual dialogue for Shorty if you can, rather than just summarizing it; thanks. By now you should have a sense of what he's like; generally speaking, he's fairly talkative, of average intelligence or a bit more, and has a simple, unaffected way of speaking.]

[Alberich]

[OOC: I do what I can, but I don't have anything interesting to do with this encounter, or any content to give the conversation. Shorty and Tim are strangers and unlikely to tell each other anything of interest to the story, beyond the fact that these Gibazov patrols are around, as they've already done. So I think they don't have anything but small talk to make 'til the wagon gets close, and not any that's interesting enough to write.

I mean, Shorty no doubt knows exactly who the Gibazovs looking for and why, but I don't think he'd share that info with Tim. And Tim wouldn't take the responsibility of talking about Blaise to these strangers. Both "expeditions" are being led by your characters; and if there's going to be significant dialogue between them, I think you should write it or at least get it going to a point where other people might have something to say.]

[Graybeard]

[OOC: Fair enough, but it sounded as if Tim and Shorty already had had some substantial interaction. Actually, the best way to do this is probably with Rip and Argus doing the bulk of the interacting, since they nominally know each other slightly. Again, we're working some of that offline, but to move it closer to happening:]

"He's waving," Sister Rose said to Brad and Argus sitting in front; her enhanced-vision spell probably wasn't necessary to see that Tim was signaling, but then again, she had it on, and it couldn't hurt. "Looks like the coast is clear." The wagon continued upward.

--------------

"Want to check them out, Thurston?"

"RRAWWWK. As long as it's not too much flying, boss," the parrot grumbled; Rip's assessment was quite accurate. On the other hand, the pass was a bit windy, as passes are, and he had no trouble becoming airborne ...

... Or returning a few minutes later in a bit of a hurry.

"RAAAWWWKK. Who was that guy you knew in grad school who had the perverted beaver as a familiar? 'Cause there's somebody down on the wagon who looks just like him ... or maybe his dad."

[Jack Rothwell]

OOC How close are we til nightfall btw?/OOC

[Graybeard]

OOC:

OOC How close are we til nightfall btw?/OOC

This is all happening sorta mid-afternoon as I see it, to give the various travelers time to make it to some manner of destination before night falleth. Rose and the others would be wise enough about moving in the mountains to know that being exposed in the high country once the sun goes down is a Bad Idea. Sorry to keep you waiting.