RPGWW

With the decision of who was to go and check things out. Myrnal and Neb left the carts and went forward. It took them a little while to catch up to the man, but he was still closer than he had first appeared to be: The distance had been hard to judge, because they'd had no way of knowing that he was only about four and a half feet tall.

It appeared to be a kitsune-jin, silver furred with odd blue marks here and there that looked oddly like they might have grown in naturally, wearing a cloak of the same color with the hood down. He kept a pair of scimitars strapped to his back in plain sight, with some beautiful silver craftsmanship on their sheathes, marred slightly by a bit of tarnish here and there. For that matter, the creature itself had some dull spots in it's fur, and it looked a bit unkempt from a distance, giving it an aged appearance.

It had no hear them yet, and was still walking at an even pace.

There were, it was becoming apparent, a couple of dominant personalities in the group. Leothe's, as it turned out, was not one of them. He was quite happy to remain with the main group, ready to to start launching arrows down-range if need be.

He didn't think it would be necessary. They were in Baron now, and within these borders, the rule of law prevailed. Besides which, lone travelers did not as a rule pick fights when so badly outnumbered.

It occurred to him to wonder at his faith in the rule of law in Baron. For most of his life, this land had been civilised, with but brief episodes of savagery. Still, those episodes could easily get out of hand. The fact they had been enjoined to depart again as soon as their business was concluded certainly wasn't a hopeful sign. Leothe might have been hurt at the suggestion he constituted a potentially disruptive influence, were it not for the fact that was unquestionably what they were. Trevor in particular was disruption incarnate in the present climate.

Not for the first time, Leothe wondered just how it was all going to end.

A kitsunejin? Neb furrowed her brow; it had been quite some time since she had seen one of their kind. There had been a few of them in Doma's capital, not to mention a couple errant foxmen she had seen on the trade routes, but they had still been few and far between. Kitsunejin were a rare sight, and it was odd to see one all the way out here ...or one that was armed like this, for that matter. From what little she had seen, she had never known them to be particularly martial.

Still, as a fellow travel, he could still be a useful source of information. She continued to approach him, and as soon as she was close enough to be heard, she cleared her throat. "Good afternoon," she said, keeping her voice light.

The foxman stopped and looked back quickly. He studied Neb and Myrnal over his shoulder briefly, and then turned around. His slightly sagging and grayed facial features further spoke of age. He had psuedo-mustaches growing from his snout, but his eyes looked sharp enough.

"Good day and such. Odd... I don't remember having a pair of pretty shadows a few hours ago. Where did you come from?"

"We were traveling by caravan," she said with a shrug. "Now we're acting as scouts, of a sort."

Neb looked down at him, and asked, "But what about you? It's not exactly safe to travel by yourself, especially on foot."

He looked past them a bit, and nodded seeing the carts. Then he refocused on Neb.

"I know this place isn't exactly safe, yes. But I have my reasons for coming. I wouldn't mind some company, if you want to invite me along, at least as far as... as..."

He seemed to be struggling. He eventually sighed and started over.

"Sorry, I'm still not perfect at common. I'm headed for the capital. If you could let... me go with you as far as you are going there, I would appreciate it?"

He looked hopefully at her, though it was hard to say if he was hoping she understood or that should would agree.

Once they got close enough to address the kitsunejin, Myrnal merely stood quietly and allowed Neb to handle things. Daniel Hyral's reservations about Myrnal's diplomatic skills were not unshared, and she would much rather allow the merchant among them to handle anybody new and not immediately dangerous.

Two swords was an unusual set of weapons, and they seemed to be a matched set. Probably intended to be used together, which if he were truly capable of it... well, it was nothing to sneeze at. They were nice, too, even if they did need a little of attention to their finish.

Not a lot of information from him, but Myrnal's instincts weren't alerting her to anything amiss. Despite the fact that she had seldom been wrong in her assessment of new people--at least when it came to designating the actions "kill" or "befriend"--Myrnal still was not terribly inclined to go ahead and give him the okay to come along and join their caravan.

For one thing, they knew nothing about the guy except that his first language wasn't Common, and he must have had some form of martial training to be carrying around those blades. He'd be blisteringly stupid to flaunt weapons he wasn't ready to use, and Myrnal didn't want to assume that just yet.

So, not stupid, not inept with a blade, but not forthcoming with information. Perhaps Myrnal could fix that without undermining Neb's authority to grant or deny permission to join the group. She spoke suddenly, but was careful to make no moves toward her weapons, hopefully softening the effect of abruptly calling attention to herself.

"Your Common is fine, so don't worry. But you didn't give a name. They call me Myrnal. Who are you, exactly?"

He answered readily enough.

"I am Darrel."

"Hello Darrel, I'm Neb." She tilted her head, and asked, "Do you mind telling us why you're going to the capital? It must be important, if you're traveling like this."

Even if Darrel was harmless, their current mission was quite delicate, to say the least. Whether or not he had any malice, he could still make things difficult for them.

He relaxed a little, and smiled lazily.

"If I told you, you would say I was crazy. Don't know, maybe I am."

He paused for a moment, rubbing his fuzzy mustaches.

"I guess I should say, though. You asked nicely. I'm going because I dreamed I was supposed to go. Something bad is happening there, and I needed to help stop it."

So this Darrel got visions. Myrnal was curious how, from whom (or from Whom, as the case may be). The messages were not promising, either. They were taking Baron's deposed monarch back to his country, theoretically in order to win him back his throne or... or something. And yet an event so momentously terrible lay on the horizon that some power or other was warning random people to travel long distances in hopes of preventing it.

Myrnal smirked at his answer, but the expression was not entirely unkind.

"Worked with a guy like that once. Kazeran priest of some sort. Good guy, and he was pretty spot on."

She scratched her head thoughtfully, the gesture deliberately casual. "Your call, boss," she said to Neb. "Makes no nevermind to me either way."

Neb raised her eyebrows, and thought over what Darrel said. Whether these visions were real or not, it was safe to say that he knew something about what was going on in Baron. It might be best to take him along, just in case.

She nodded to Myrnal, and looked back at Darrel. "Well, you know what they say about safety in numbers." She smiled down at him, and said, "Just follow us, and we'll take you to the capital."

Darrel nodded.

"Thank you."

The three of them went back to the carts, where Darrel stopped just short of entering. He was staring at Dan, a mix of fascination and pleasant surprise on his face.

"Daniel? Daniel Hyral?"

Well, wasn't this convenient. Neb looked up Dan, and asked, "Have you two met before?"

Well, this is certainly unexpected.

Much like the kitsunejin, Daniel feels an odd mix of emotions upon recognizing the man. The last time they saw one another, Darrel was quite far from being Ok. All things considered, he appeared to be doing surprisingly well for himself.

"...Darrel? Goddess, how long has it been?" he says to the familiar man.

Darrel looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Sixteen... maybe eighteen seasons? Four of your years, then. A very, very long time. And you haven't aged at all! How is your brother?"

Goddess, had it really been that long? It certainly didn't feel that way to Daniel, as he thought back to that time.

"I don't know if I'd say that. I think the kids are starting to give me grey hairs hehe. But that's kind of you to say. And all things considered, Stephan's doing well."

He happens to catch a glance of Neb next to him, and realizes she was trying to ask something a moment ago.

"Oh, Neb, I'm sorry. Yes, we met a few years ago during some rather nasty business with... um..."

Daniel glances over at Darrel, to judge his reaction. Given what happened, he'd rather not make the man relive it if possible.

"Nasty business with a bad mage."

After she and Neb led this silver-furred fellow back to the wagons, it became immediately clear that he was already acquainted with one of their group. The real question was what terms they were on, but that was answered rapidly enough.

He was a friend. Whether primarily of Daniel or Stephan Hyral, it made little difference to her. These two tended to attract a pretty good crowd, with the obvious exception of Myrnal herself. If Dan were happy to see Darrel, Myrnal was prepared to accept him for now. After all, from one point of view she was here as a proxy for Dan's brother, and it would be a real asshole move if she went around treating his friends like shit.

Looking from the familiar pseudo-paladin to the furred stranger, Myrnal settled something for herself, and the resolution showed clearly enough in her expression. She was here to look out for Stephan's people, and if that meant two guys instead of one... so be it.

She just hoped that Darrel wouldn't cause her as much headache as Daniel had been doing.

Darrel didn't reply to Dan immediately, and actually shook visibly a few seconds after he'd brought the 'bad mage' up. He coughed a few times, and in common that was suddenly much less articulate, he said:

"Glad Stephan is good. Day is wasting..."

He climbed clumsily on the cart, and brought his cloak tighter about himself, as though suddenly cold.

Trevor leaned over to Dan and spoke quietly:

"is he alright, Daniel? He doesn't look well."

Neb said nothing, and merely nodded to Daniel before she climbed back in the wagon. Darrel's discomfort was obvious to anyone who cared to look, and she did not wish to add to it. Daniel's greeting was enough to let her know that the kitsunejin was more or less trustworthy, and for the moment, that was good enough.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.
That's all Daniel can think of, as he watches Darrel's reaction to his introduction.

He should have known better.

He SHOULD HAVE KNOWN not to bring it up.

But he did anyway, and now the man looked like a wreck.
Just like all those years ago...


"...I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have brought it up like that. But, I think he'll be ok."

"...I hope..." Daniel thinks to himself.

"...excuse me a moment."


Daniel quickly follows after Darrel, hoping up to the back of the wagon. He knows mere words probably can't 'fix' the situation, but he has to at least try.

"Darrel, I'm... uh... I'm sorry about this. I didn't think..."

(Sorry folks, been sick and haven't felt like posting. I'm really not exactly better yet, but I can at least move things along.)

Darrel waved away Dan's appologies, giving every a flash of his slightly moth eatten fine navy colored garments beneath his cloak, as well as something that shined; perhaps a small steel breastplate.

They continued on, on a course for the Farnsworth Society. However, it was several days from the border, and as such they had a good deal of time to sit idle in their carts, with a great deal of nothing to do. A few days after the border, they all heard something strange, though: a distant thrumming... A sounds that is very hard to place, like the air itself was being beaten with something hard and flat, over and over.

In the distance, coming from the east, there was a slowly and steadily growing formation of black dots in the sky...

The pat few days had been enough to calm Neb's nerves. When she wasn't pondering the strange turns their journey had taken them, her thoughts drifted towards the Farnsworth Society. It had been a while since she had seen Bethany, and old friend and one of the historical group's curators. She hoped she had been doing well; Bethany's last letter hinted at some trouble for her and her colleagues.

Her musings were all but forgotten, however, when she heard that terrible beating sound. Neb's head jerked up, and her eyes widened when she saw the swarm of dots that threatened to approach them. "What the hell are those?!" she declared, as she continued to stare at the distant menace.

"I have no idea," Leothe said, narrowing his eyes in an effort to get a better look. He scooped up his bow, making sure he had plenty of arrows to hand. If these things were hostile (and it seemed a reasonable assumption), things could get pretty stressful.

The surprise faded, and Neb steeled herself as she stared up at the sky. While she was no archer, she could still act from the ground. She took a deep breath, and her eyes lost focus as she attempted to tap into the astral plane. She remained silent and her breathing stilled, and her skin tingled while she prepared to cast her spells.

Daniel has no idea what is coming. However, he's not about to sit around and wait for someone to make sure. Not after everything they've been through so far.

"...Goddess help us."

He turns toward the caravan of travellers.

"...everyone who's not a combatant, take cover under the wagons." Daniel says to the group. "I'm not sure what's coming, but if it's hostile, you don't want to make yourselves targets."

He make a point to look at Trevor for much longer than the others.

Once he's sure the point has been made, he heads over to Myrnal. Considering her reaction to this in the past, Daniel is pretty sure she won't like what he's about to say. But this is more important than another possible argument.

"...Myrnal, if things start to look bad, try to get Trevor out of here. Whatever's going on in Baron, I know he'll be needed to stop it."

The dots in the sky grew larger, and their shapes, flying in nearly perfect formation, became recognizable. High, high in the sky, flew five massive wooden constructs, shaped vaguely like sea galleons. What was holding them up wasn't immediately apparent, no balloons visible from here, and they moved much too quickly to Dan's memory. Painted expertly on their sides was the Baronian flag.

The airships approached, passed, and continued on without ever slowing or stopping. Whatever the fleet is after, they aren't it.

Dan just stands there, staring at the airships as they move off into the distance. They are definitely not the normal ships used to ferry people around Igalia. The only time he ever saw a ship like that was...

...no, he must be making a mistake.

"...those... those can't be what I think they are." Daniel thinks out loud, "Baron doesn't have warships like that, not anymore..."

He turns to Trevor, looking horrified and confused at the same time.

"Do... do you have any idea where those came from?"

Neb blinked, and released a breath that she didn't know she was holding. The tingle of astral energy lingered on her fingers, and she shook her head as the ships continued their steady flight. "This isn't good," she muttered. "What are they doing?"

Trevor looks pale. It took a moment, but he replied to Dan.

"The only thing I can fathom... It doesn't make any bloody SENSE, but..."

He stopped, swallowed, and started over.

"One of the things they accused me of was trying to return the warships to service. The people were outraged, those who believed it. It's... It's as though they're trying to incite the people."

"Perhaps they are," Leothe said quietly, "I think we need to ask ourselves who benefits if Baron descends into civil war."

One thing he was certain of - the resurrection of Baron's airship fleet would have consequences well beyond her borders. The balance of power would be altered, and formerly friendly nations would be asking themselves whether the government intended to put them to use.

Myrnal stood quietly with her hands in her pockets and watched the skies with the others. She knew that pounding of the air, the incredible distance upward that made it unfathomable that she could be looking at anything so large. The last time she'd heard that sound, she'd been up there.

All the way up there... she thought.

Dan ordered her to leave him and take care of his king, should things get ugly. She rolled her eyes and chose not to comment. Now hardly seemed like an appropriate time to let him know that she wasn't here to protect Trevor, and certainly was not going to leave Dan even if he asked.

Quietly, she simply watched, dark brown eyes never leaving the passing fleet.

"Doma's got airships. I know they have; we took one to Ka'thalar before the war there, and took one back afterward," she finally offered, alluding for once to the time she'd been sent to into battle for... her country, or something. Whatever it had been for. "So the weird thing is that these airships aren't heading east to attack the only country that warrants pulling out a fleet like that. They're coming from the East."

"The east...? Oh Goddess, you don't think they've coming back from an attack, do you?" Daniel says to the others.

"I don't know," she murmured. "What reason would they have to launch an attack?"

Trevor didn't have an answer for Neb. The Caravan moved forward once again, towards the Farnsworth Society. As they watch the Airships, they don't quite go out of sight. Rather, they eventually set down, somewhere far ahead. Dan, being keen on geography and navigation, soon realizes that they are actually fairly close to Cidolafas Airfield at the moment.

Do they still plan to head for the Farnsworth society?

(Feel free to IM me, or have an IC discussion about the turn of events, or whatever. If no one posts by friday, I'll assume the plan hasn't changed.)

As Daniel watches the aircraft coming down, it occurs to him where they currently are. Assuming he's not wrong, the airfields for Baron's fleet are very close by. Considering the increased activity from the airforce, this could be a big problem.

"...we seem to be getting very close to the airfields. Unless this society happens to be based nearby, maybe we should think about another route?"

"That would be a good idea, yes," Leothe said, "I don't relish encountering whatever security they have around the place. What are our options?"

As far as he was concerned, a short detour would be a small price to pay to avoid the possibility of running up against those kinds of numbers. It might be useful to know just how many warships were operational, but it still wasn't worth the risk.

After a short discussion, it was decided that the caravan would swing south of the airfield, and continue on a straight shot for their ultimate goal thereafter. In theory, their course change was a sound and perfectly logical decision. However, the next day it became apparent that all the planning in the world couldn't prevent simple bad luck.

Far ahead, well beyond hailing distance, two groups stood upon an open field of tall grasses. Both shined in the late morning sun, more than likely reflections off of many breast plates, shields and blades of different sorts. The two groups lay apart from one another, still and waiting. There is smoke and the odd twinkle of light from camp fires on either side, and what look like ballistae back the group to the north. The group to the south have no such heavy artillery that can be seen. The sky is empty and clear, but for the odd wisp of cloud. Trevor looks on silently, concerned.

Myrnal crossed her arms and stared in exasperation and growing dread at the battlefield ahead. Her first thought upon spotting the opposing groups was, ...Come on. Really?

There were just too many questions. Myrnal wasn't current enough on Baronian politics to comfortably answer any of them. She could sort of guess that the northern army was the one attacking, since the aggressor would have had time to get siege weaponry together whereas a defender might not.

But why in the hell have ballistae anyway? Sure, they were dangerous, but they weren't exactly specialized toward shooting down infantry. Where were they headed? The only established group Myrnal could think of was this Farnsworth Society or whatever. And if they were preparing for a siege, there was probably not a damn thing Myrnal could do about it.

There was a long silence, presumably while everyone else tried to figure out what to say... what to do.

"So. This is nice. What now?"

(I had no fucking idea this was updated.

Expect hell from me later Bes.)