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A simple hike
So I've been made war minister of Duiran and I am taking a slightly different approach to the role, making it sort of a survival training slash wilderness appreciation department - something like Outward Bound meets Cub Scouts meets spears. This is our first event, which is just a simple hike (Ariadne is skeptical of how much would be too much for an initial activity). Thanks to those who showed up!
Dense thicket in Eastern Ithmia. (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Small oaks and cedars crowd together, competing for space and sunlight. The young oaks grow quickly upwards, stretching their lanky frames as high as possible before sprouting limbs. Green, broad leaves form small canopies over the other trees, stealing the sun from those below them. The cedars, while short and squat, stretch their full boughs of dense needles as far outwards as possible, often entangling themselves with other cedars or engulfing sapling oaks as they try to grow past them into the light. Savage and wild, a large black wolf scans the area with a keen, alert stare. A saucy chipmunk clings to the trees, scolding you for your intrusion. A vibrant, crackling aura of raw energy cloaking his form, Aarbrok is here, hidden. He is riding on an armored ackranit. He wields a fetish-laden staff of blackened ivory in his right hand. Phoenecia is here. You spot several changes in the environment that spell out, "Hey is for horses. Be safe out there."
You see exits leading north, east, southeast, south, and northwest.
(Duiran): You say, "Time for the trek. Will be very basic. Meet at the thicket outside Duiran. Bring water, maybe."
Aarbrok enters from the south, riding an armored ackranit.
Aarbrok comes in from the shadows atop the menacing stony ackranit, his stave wrapped around a stalagmite of the great shell like reigns, "I, am ready to join you." he hisses out in a cold tone, trying to find a suitable position atop the creature.
You have emoted: Ariadne gives Aarbrok and Phoenecia a quiet nod, gaze shifting past the two of you to scan the forest for other arrivals.
An armored ackranit undulates about the room, its eyes darting around maliciously seeking a target.
Mariena tells you, "Getting the vials for the packs right now."
Phoenecia tugs her hood over her head, concealing the upper half of her face within its voluminous shadows. "Don't mind me. I'm just tagging along," she says casually, a hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
(Duiran): You say, "Hike begins soon. Can follow path to coordinates 5692."
Aarbrok turns upon the shell of the creature, an inclination of his head in greeting towards Phoenecia, "I would wave, but my grip would fail me and it is one bloody fall off this damned thing." he attests, a grim inclination to his voice as he looks out into the wood, "It is uncomfortably quiet in the wood this day."
You tilt your head back and deeply inhale any scents from the air.
Phoenecia's lips curl into a wry smile as she folds her arms over her chest. "I don't know. I sort of like the quiet. Better than the incessant posturing, hubris, and preaching that goes on in the Beacon. Still a bit bitter about it all, really."
You have emoted: Ariadne straightens, sniffing at the wind for a moment. Finally, she clears her throat and quietly explains, "Bena...leader Mariena is bringing packs." Her gaze shifts to the two of you, a faintly apologetic note entering her low, neutral voice. "Kits for those newer to survival."
Aarbrok nods his head, "That is quite kind of her." he states, shaking the remanant of foliage off the stave onto the ground in a mossy slough, plopping onto the ground with a sickening squelch as the vines wreathing his arm subside, "It will be good help to have a proper kit."
Phoenecia leans against the trunk of a nearby tree and lets out a shrill whistle, extending her arm. Within a few moments, a silver falcon swoops down from the canopy and lands on her wrist.
Nuana arrives from the south.
(Duiran): Aarbrok says, "I encourage those around to join, there will be much learning from the experience."
Mariena arrives from the south.
Mariena says, "Hello!"
With a loose salute, Nuana says, "'lo."
You have emoted: Ariadne gives Nuana a nod of greeting and then looks over at Mariena. "Gear," she explains, nodding towards Mariena.
Mariena gives a durable, wood grain-patterned canvas pack to Nuana.
Mariena gives a durable, wood grain-patterned canvas pack to Phoenecia.
Mariena gives eight packs to you.
Aarbrok inclines his head from atop the beast he rides. A greeting towards the new folks present, "Aye, hello to you Voice and Hand." he intones, reaching for the stein upon his belt and spilling a strong liquor all about as he finally gets it in his fingers to lift it toward his mouth.
Aarbrok sips from a festive green stein with traces of a strong, dark ale.
Nuana acknowledges Aarbrok with a nod of her head.
Mariena says, "I wash hopin' more of our young would be waking for this."
Nuana says, "Mm."
You have emoted: Ariadne waits quietly, giving Mariena time to hand out the packs. Her stance is easy and posture relaxed - somehow, she seems to innately find the most shaded part of the thicket, her form dappled by shadows and nearly hidden among the trees. She watches Aarbrok for a bit, a slight frown tugging at her lips as he spills booze all over, but remains silent.
A savage, black-furred wolf is less generous in his assessment and lets out a snort, eying Aarbrok with clear disdain.
Durable canvas has had a myriad of brown inks striped across its surface to mimic the wood grain of an oak tree. This canvas has then been used to create a very sturdy pack, suitable for any adventurer. It is in a sack style, its contents accessible by a draw-rope closure. Several large pockets have been sewn to the outside of the pack, each closed by rope that has been woven through the canvas itself. Two canvas straps attach at the top and bottom of the pack, allowing the wearer to sling it over their shoulder.
It can be worn in the following locations:
back shoulder
It has 110 months of usefulness left.
It weighs 12 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Mariena Aquila.
A durable, wood grain-patterned canvas pack is holding:
"bedroll136227" a mottled bedroll
"vial134798" a dark mahogany vial
"vial135084" a dark mahogany vial
"vial138288" a dark mahogany vial
"vial138308" a dark mahogany vial
Mariena says, "Excuse me, I can not stay."
Mariena leaves to the south.
Letting her falcon take wing, Phoenecia says, "Got to love the irony of me being the only city-dweller in attendence."
Its tiny wings beating happily at the air, a honey bee dances in on a nearby breeze.
Nuana hefts the pack she was given in one hand and slings it over her other shoulder, wriggling her fingers a bit as she adjusts her grip. Looking upward, she squints at the sunlight filtering through the canopy, briefly flicking her attention to Phoenecia.
Aarbrok dismisses the huffs and muttering and takes another drink, leaning back against the cradling of the large spikes on the shell.
You have emoted: Ariadne finally remarks, "Guess we will start." With that, she quietly turns and begins weaving her way through the trees. After only a few yards, she looks back, a slight crease furrowing her brow, and slows her steps, falling into a very gentle, slow pace, one easy enough to follow. The wolf casually slinks along behind her, head shaking as he snorts again, clearly disapproving of the near-crawling speed.
Without a word, Nuana easily falls into step behind you, her head ducking a bit as she picks out her footing.
A saucy chipmunk scampers in from the northwest.
A moth flutters in from the south.
With a powerful leap, a white stag leaves to the southeast.
A moth flutters out to the north.
A saucy chipmunk scampers out to the north.
Aarbrok watches with curiosity, heels tapping against the earthen shell of the ackranit as he watches on the path taken, "Ill be following the rear of the group, go at whatever pace you desire....I can keep up, this fella got some run in him still..." he intones, pondering all the animals running about through the forest around the group, he lifts his stave and urges the procession forward.
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
Phoenecia simply shrugs, trailing after Nuana, her falcon landing on her shoulder with a sharp screech.
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
A moth flutters in from the south.
You have emoted: Overhead, oaks and cedars stretch, allowing light to filter down in small shafts, creating a patchwork pattern of shadows and sun on the forest floor. Needles crush underfoot, sending up a rich, heady scent of cedar, while delicate motes of pollen catch on the breeze, skirling past you to glint in the light, adding a hazy shimmer to the sunbeams making their way through the branches. Ariadne remains silent and merely leads you deeper into the woods, her steps taking her along a game trail through the trees.
Aarbrok, Nuana, and Phoenecia follow you to the north.
A Cairn Stone. (Eastern Ithmia.)
The stars twinkle in the clear night sky. The forest parts slightly, creating a small meadow. Oaks and elms tower around the perimeter, casting deep shadows on the open area. Only a small portion of the clearing, in the direct center, receives full sunlight during the mid-day and basks in the glow of the moon at night. A plethora of small red wildflowers has grown in a thick carpet, covering the open area with their crimson beauty. When the wind blows through the clearing, the flowers sway and dance, taking the appearance of a river of sweet red wine. A weathered cairn stone stands solemnly in the center of the glade. A large rattlesnake lies sleepily coiled nearby, its length wrapped about itself many times. A little black bear scampers about here, without a care in the world. You spot several changes in the environment that spell out, "Stay vigilant."
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, south, and west.
You have emoted: Directly before you, a slender, curving shape coils across the path - a snake, which hisses in agitation as the band of hikers come closer, curling up tighter on himself. At the end of his sinuous body is a large stack of hardened skin, forming a rattle. It is this which the creature shakes, the sound a menacing warning. Ariadne slows her steps, coming to a halt and stretching out her arms in a silent warning for the party to cease.
Aarbrok looks about the familiar land of the Ithmia, his eyes trailing about through the boughs on the edge of the small clearing around the cairns. The sound of the birds catching his pointed ears, they visibly twitch though his expression is unchanging as you raises her arms he pauses, and takes on a less relaxed position watching where her eyes focus and maintaining attention on the flanks of the party.
Nuana's chin lifts at the rattle and she comes to an easy stop behind your warning hand. Her nostrils flare briefly, accompanied by a soft puff of air, as she stares at the creature and plants the butt of her quarterstaff in the earth, waiting.
Phoenecia seems considerably less cautious than the rest of the party, appearing rather unimpressed with the snake. Regardless, she stops when commanded, simply watching with faint interest.
You have emoted: Ariadne quietly says, "The rattle is merely a warning." She nods down towards the snake. "We startled him. He is uncertain what to do now, so he rattles, hoping we will go. His bite is venomous. Could kill, but no need." She looks back to the party and then gestures towards the trees lining the rough path. "Merely need a stick..." She illustrates with her fingers, forming them into a "V" to indicate that she wants you to find a forked branch.
Nuana turns and strikes off the path, her gaze alternating between the ground and the lower branches of nearby trees, searching for a proper branch. Spotting a properly forked stick, she slips her staff into place on her weaponbelt and springs up, grabbing it and wrenching it from the tree to bring it back to you.
You have emoted: As you search, Ariadne explains in a low voice, "Rattle is dead skin. When he sheds, adds new segment." The snake before you has a rather long rattle, hinting at a lifespan of at least several years.
Aarbrok leaps off the ackranit, a slight stagger in his step as he lands upon the ground. A slight grin towards you as he checks off the edge of the trail, utilizing his stave as a walking stick as his unsteady gait lurches into the underbrush tossing about the remains of fallen plantlife and stones out of the way as he searches for the proper tool, distracted for a moment he hears the voice and perks back up noticing the tool has been fetched he walks back over to the crowd.
A dark figure passes to your left, slinking low to the ground with its form shrouded in the night. As quickly as it was spotted, it disappears into the undergrowth with the telltale crack of branches and limbs following in its wake.
Nuana immediately pricks up, suddenly considerably more aware as she scans to the left, posture rigid.
You have emoted: "Coil happens before strike, for best lunge," Ariadne continues. "Can jump over half his body length. Wide range. Faster than eyeblink. Best to avoid, but can move if needed."
Aarbrok purses his lips and nods, watching you intently during the lesson, a slight smile crossing his grim features.
A savage, black-furred wolf seems to know the dangers inherent in snakebites and merely lurks at the back of the pack, circling in agitation as he waits for the snake to be handled.
Several lengthy moments pass before Nuana turns back to your lesson, though she continues to intermittently scan the nearby trees.
You have emoted: Ariadne takes the stick she was given by Nuana and reaches out, her gesture remarkably quick, to stab the stick at the snake. The forked prongs of the branches fit neatly on either side of the snake's head, preventing him from leaping or biting, and it becomes a fairly easy task to then coax him off the trail. There's an immediate rustle and grasses sway as the beast slithers away, deeper into the woods, apparently more grateful to have scaped the confrontation than the lot of you are.
Aarbrok watches the wolf idly with curiosity as it looms in the background circling cautiously. As you deters the snake, his distraction goes away and he focuses back on the task being educated, and the one teaching. The inclination of his head towards you states a job well done, without words just a smile.
You are alarmed by the sound of a loud hiss and an agitated rattling as a rattlesnake writhes into view from the northeast.
You stare implacably at a rattlesnake.
"Mmmm..." Aarbrok softly utters.
Aarbrok walks forward and extends a hand, laden with crackling energy. He mutters under his breath without further discussion and without any following fanfare launches lightning from his fingertips outwards at the snake.
Aarbrok scowls as he misses, muttering a series of curses under his breath.
Rattling banefully, the rattlesnake glides slowly from view to the north with an undulating motion.
You have emoted: Ariadne quietly says, "Snake is useful, though. Not trained myself, but I hear they can be used in concoctions?" Her low voice rises into a question, inviting answers, as she begins to walk again, leading you on towards the meadow around the cairn stone.
Nuana allows her stance to loosen as she falls in behind you once again. Watching Aarbrok out of the corner of her eye as she goes, she offers a slight snicker when he misses the snake.
You have emoted: As you reach the center of the meadow, a soft breeze gusts through the clearing, sending a rippling sway through the wildflowers. For a brief moment, the crimson flowers flutter in a soft wave around the rock, the undulations conjuring up images of blood gushing from a wounded creature, and then the wind dies down and the brief impression fades. Ariadne leads you past this stone, towards the north.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the north.
Beneath an old oak. (campsite) (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. The trees spread out more in this section of the forest, mostly due to a large oak that dominates the area. Its massive branches span over an enormous area, the leaves consuming nearly all the light, providing dark shadows at its base. A few spindly wildflowers have been able to grow in the feeble light, while large patches of moss and colorful shelf fungus reside happily on the trunk of the ancient oak. Like an old battle wound, a jagged seam runs down the massive trunk, testifying the tree's stoic stance against ages of storms and lightning. A trio of large fir trees circle the massive oak, offering themselves as council to the elder of the forest. A great cairn has been erected here to the Hunter. Bloody handprints mark the cairn, while broken weaponry is clustered about its base in effigy.
You see exits leading northeast, south, and northwest.
You see the following people here:
Aarbrok, Ariadne, Nuana
The smell of sap becomes strong in the air as a shift in the breeze brings its odor to your nose.
The Rowan Box has been claimed in the Hunting Grounds by Jensen.
Aarbrok walks in towards the leading procession. The large oak looming before him with the fir trees in its council. Looking upon the area of the forest the lighting is low and dim due to the thick foliage and he observes the trees curiously with a hand, gracing the bark with his palm along the wounded flesh where time has told a story upon the surface of the tree. The large cairn stands before the group in the area, surrounded by the broken weaponry in a less than neat piling before it. As you touches the cairn, Aarbrok nods in reverence.
You have emoted: Ariadne walks for a bit in silence, pausing briefly before the cairn to Haern. She gives the blood-stained stone a reverent nod, explaining, "Can enter Hunting Grounds, here." She gives the two of you time to inspect the stone if you wish, apparently undeterred by losing Phoenecia.
A savage, black-furred wolf seems to have gotten used to the slow pace and has relaxed his wary, alert posture, tension fading away as an almost puppy-like playfulness takes him over for a brief moment. He makes a few lunging leaps at wavering sunshafts, letting out loud snorts and huffs.
You have emoted: Ariadne's gaze slides over to the wolf, regarding him in silence. The beast stares back at her and slowly straightens, taking on an almost regal air of wounded dignity, before letting out a snort and slinking down into a more predatory lope.
Nuana draws her staff again as she approaches the cairn, giving it a proper salute and a respectful dip of her head. The fetishes clatter against the wood, hollow and soothing as the sound mingles with the natural noises of the Ithmia. She then slips it back into its loop and turns, idly watching the wolf a moment or two before stepping away from the cairn and drawing in closer to you once more.
You have emoted: Ariadne follows the path the wolf picks through the forest, her steps remarkably light and lithe.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the northeast.
Surrounded by maples. (campsite) (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Many young maples make their home in this green section of the forest. Their full branches provide homes to many birds as well as to a rather large family of squirrels. A rustle and boisterous chittering often heralds the arrival of these rambunctious creatures who seem to spend most of their time playing in the upper branches. Husks of acorns and walnuts litter the forest floor in testament of the joyful festivities the family of squirrels often holds high up in their green playgrounds.
You see exits leading east, southwest, and northwest.
You have emoted: A distant chatter gets louder as the three of you slowly pick your way through the woods. Chittering and squeaks soon fill the air as you emerge beneath a lively band of squirrels. Ariadne's eyes drift upwards, surveying the creatures with poorly-disguised disdain, while the wolf's mouth opens a bit in a bit of a pant, tongue lolling out.
Aarbrok steps further forward, now drawing a bit closer as he moves with each step the fetishes upon the ivory haft of the weapon rattle in the wind. He takes in a deep breath of air and watches for any word from you, crunching the fallen maple leaves before his feet and the acorn husks left by the squirrels that inhabit the trees in this area.
With a grunt, you say, "Squirrels."
Stifling a snicker, Aarbrok says, "Mischievous little bastards, eh?"
Huffing a soft laugh, Nuana says, "Don't care for them, I take it?"
You have emoted: "Loud. Annoying," Ariadne she remarks. Beside her, the wolf lets out a little rumble and she allows, "...Rend finds them tasty." Her gaze slides sideways to the wolf, and she quietly adds, "...when he can catch him."
A savage, black-furred wolf lets out a snort, as if daring anyone to question his ability to catch squirrels.
You have emoted: Ariadne doesn't linger long here, quickly striding through this portion of the woods. Behind her, the wolf snaps his jaws a few times, circling the tree, eyes trained on the vermin in the branches, before he reluctantly follows.
A lopsided smirk curls at Nuana's lips, and she tosses out, "Can't say I used to mind the taste, either." Fanning out, she twists behind a tree, one hand drawn to the bark like a touchstone as she peers out into the woods, then works her way back to the group again.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the east.
Amid the maples. (campsite) (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. A cluster of mature maples grows here amidst the many oaks of this ancient forest. Their serrated leaves rustle softly in the gentle breeze, and the dappled sunlight that penetrates the canopy casts a myriad of changing patterns upon the forest floor. The barks of the trees are smooth and grey, with a soft and silky texture. The wind picks up briefly and a few old and tattered leaves flutter down to the forest floor, spinning in spirals as they descend unerringly to their doom. Covered with flourishing vines and lush mosses, a large monolith stands here like an ancient sentinel keeping watch over this protected grove.
You see exits leading northeast, south, west, and northwest.
You have emoted: Ariadne merely walks in silence, steps taking your group along a dappled path between maples. Soft leaves coat the ground underfoot, dampening sound and giving an almost hallowed feeling to the portion of trail passing the large monolith.
This towering slab of brown sandstone has a smooth, irregular surface, the result of years of gentle erosion by wind and plant life. Its base is buried solidly in the soil and covered with lush mosses clinging tenaciously to the stone surface. Dozens of interleaving vines have climbed up the sides of the monolith, their height and health evidence that they have been undisturbed for decades. Carved in the center of the monolith is a round hole the size of a fist, a few adventurous vines having ventured exploratory tendrils inside. The hole runs directly through the six-foot thickness of the slab, although the sides of the small tunnel spiral wildly in the interior.
It weighs about 500 pound(s).
A vine-covered sandstone monolith is holding:
Nothing.
Aarbrok lets out a soft moan as he ponders the area, walking before the large monolith before him and gently gracing it with his hand through the moss like one would endearingly through the hair of a beloved child. Light flickering among the ground in various patterns and shapes he lets out a smile and whispers, "...I like this quiet reach of the Ithmia."
You have emoted: Ariadne inclines her head faintly towards Aarbrok as she veers off down a small side-trail, heading deeper into the forest.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the northeast.
A Cairn Stone. (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Skinny maples and a few adult walnut trees crowd a serene clearing. Patches of green grass bunch in clusters amid small leafy bushes. Tiny yellow flowers peek bashfully from behind the thick foliage, while a host of red tulips form a vibrant ring around the clearing. A stiff breeze wafts through occasionally, causing the flowers to bob and dance to some silent tune. A weathered cairn stone stands solemnly in the center of the glade. There is a walnut hiding among the leaves littering the ground.
You see exits leading north, southeast, and southwest.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the north.
A grove of maples. (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. A large cluster of mature maple trees has dominated this section of the forest, casting cool, deep shadows with their full foliage. Small wildflowers have taken residence in the rocky soil, adding splashes of colour to the earthy tones of their surroundings. One of the nearby maples has some of its bark scraped away from its trunk, perhaps by a deer or other forest animal. Glistening sap has welled in the cut and has trapped a few beetles that have come to feast upon the thick fluid.
You see exits leading east, south, and west.
Aarbrok and Nuana follow you to the east.
In an elm thicket. (Eastern Ithmia.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Young elm trees sprout from the forest floor in this area, a group of many dozens growing quite close together. Considering that the elms a bit farther off are far more mature, you surmise that this was the location of a more recent deadfall. A brief search of the area reveals the dead tree, mostly rotted and sinking steadily into the leaf mould. Insects and worms crawl about on the damp rotten log, and the scent of mildew hangs strong in the air. A blue jay shrieks at you in annoyance as you wander too close to her nest, hoping to distract your attention with her noisy disturbance.
You see exits leading northeast, southeast, and west.
You have emoted: Sections of the forest pass without comment - apparently Ariadne seems to approve of the two of you a bit, and merely lets you observe without feeling the need to provide any sort of explanation. Finally, her steps slow as she leads you into a small clearing in the center of young growth. Deadfall rings the tiny meadow, with rotting logs creating rather precarious seats around the tiny patch of open grass.
Idly looking about, Aarbrok turns over some of the deadfall wood revealing a skittering mass of wood louse, grubs and centipede. As he lifts his hunched body further up to suitable levels the cracking of his spine echoes in the quiet wood. A grunt comes from him as he grasps his stave and holds himself upright, "Started from the new, to that of the old....the rhythm shows well in this section of the wood...from that which comes, nourishes off what falls...."
You have emoted: Ariadne clears her throat, quietly breaking the silence as she explains, "No hunting today." The wolf looks absolutely irate at that announcement and loudly flops down into a lazy sprawl, pointedly turning his head away from the woman to rest it on his paws. "Small basic meal, though." She then walks close to Aarbrok, squatting down beside the log he's lifted and begins to carefully pluck out large, white, wriggling grubs.
"Mmmm..." Aarbrok softly utters.
Nuana hums a low tone of agreement to Aarbrok's words, watching the little creatures wriggle and you collect them before walking to an unturned log. She slings her pack off her shoulder and sets it to lean against it, propping her hands against her hips and stretching her back out a bit.
You have emoted: "Can sustain you," Ariadne explains, holding a grub out on her palm. The creature blindly inches its way across her skin in a slow crawl, the insect fat and rotund and not very traditionally appetizing in the least.
With sincerity, Aarbrok says to you, "This will do well for those to understand what bounties the wilds offer, as well as the threats Ariadne."
Aarbrok says, "I think many seasoned hunters and travelers, take the little things for granted."
Nuana nods her head at Aarbrok, showing her acceptance.
You have emoted: Ariadne instructs Aarbrok, "Gather some? Maybe two dozen or so." She then turns to Nuana and explains, "There is a flower. A...dan..hrm..." Her head tilts and it's clear she's thinking, trying to recall the word. Her eyes scan the clearing and finally her hand points one out, the weed growing happily from amongst the rich soil. It's spindly and tall, blossoming into a bright yellow head of tiny petals in a sunburst array: a dandelion.
You have emoted: Ariadne's attention turns to the center of the clearing itself, and she quietly asks, "Pick an armful?"
Aarbrok opens up a leatherbound pouch, unfastening the tied straps as he lowers his hunched body down towards the deadfall. A grunt coming from him he reaches down with his clawed hand and begins shifting the fallen bark and branches away, with a snort he moves an exceptionally large piece and the smell of decaying wood assaults your senses. With a delicate pluck he grabs at some of the fatter white grubs, which squirm and shift in his grasp before being tossed into his pouch.
As askeed, Nuana sets about her own task, leaving her pack behind. She reaches a reasonable patch of the dandelions and squats, grabbing low and plucking the weeds from the earth in a methodical fashion. The bundle grows and the thatch thins, spurring her on to the next as she continues gathering.
Aarbrok says, "I....if you come across ..."
Aarbrok looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Aarbrok says, "Houndstooth of midnight flowers, I...I erm...I would like those."
You have emoted: Ariadne does not wait for replies from either of you. Instead, she begins to gather small handfuls of wood, and then returns to the center of the meadow where you can notice a few stones arranged in a circle, faintly charred - it seems she's used this clearing before. Taking a few small branches, she arrays them into a roughly pyramidal shape, filling the space beneath those with bits of bracken, small, slender twigs, curls of bark, handfuls of dried grass. To this kindling, she takes a simple piece of flint, striking it a few times until a spark forms, which immediately sets the tinder alight. Quick, fast-burning flames rise up and begin to lick at the larger branches, slowly setting them alight - within a relatively short time, a basic campfire burns.
You quickly go about stacking a few pieces of wood into a vaguely-triangular shape before igniting it with a tinderbox, causing the pile to erupt shortly after into a soothing fire.
You have emoted: Ariadne glances back at Aarbrok, an eyebrow lifting. "What for?" she asks, curiosity breaking through her usual neutral expression.
The warm glow of the campfire suffuses your body and eases your wearied mind.
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
Nuana gives a soft grunt of acknowledgement to Aarbrok, though when she finally returns to the site, an armful of dandelions in tow, she gives him a quick shake of the head. To you, she asks, "Where shall I put these?"
Aarbrok finishes putting grubs in his pouch, the bag itself now squirming and shifting in his grasp as the bounty is collected. A slight wheeze coming from him as he puts the logs back in place, "I..its Shaman stuff, need....just would be nice." he states in a hurry, as if someone was going to question him. His speech not really directed at anyone he continues pulling himself up, turning around only to realize a fire has been set up properly during his scavenging. An intent look at you he admits, "Help me with some spiritwalking business...visions, whatnot..." he trails off throwing up a dismissive hand bringing the grubs over towards you and nodding towards Nuana in response to the question as well.
You have emoted: Ariadne meets Nuana's eyes and nods down next to the fire, towards a cleared spot out of reach of the flames. Her gaze then shifts to Aarbrok, but it's far more reluctant - something about his talk of visions seems to unnerve her, and a frown creases her brow, far deeper than one simple concentration would evoke. Finally, she points to the stones ringing the fire, indicating their flat surface for the grubs.
You drop a mottled bedroll.
You start to wield a carved redwood pot in your left hand.
You take a dark mahogany vial from a durable, wood grain-patterned canvas pack.
Nuana deposits the dandelions as instructed, though rather than paying much attention to that, her green eyes linger on the exchange between you and Aarbrok. She says nothing, however, merely dropping the clump and stepping back again, briefly admiring the fire.
You have emoted: Ariadne begins to rummage through the simple supply kit Mariena had given out earlier, retrieving the bedroll and spreading it out behind her. She then sinks down to sit cross-legged on it before the fire, attention focused rather too intently on the simple tasks - carefully she fills a pot with water from a vial, meticulously she begins to deleaf the dandelions, with heavy concentration she flicks each grub sideways, each insect giving a faint sizzle as it begins to roast on the fire-warmed stones.
You stoke the campfire and add another piece of wood to the flame.
Aarbrok says to you, "I think showing the youth the importance of survival will help strengthen them."
Aarbrok says, "It is also important to gain the ability to lead amongst other councilors, have different areas....understanding of those areas. You are giving good example of potential."
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