Atalaya and Nevil Conversations on the Way to Warthalkeel (22nd of Flamerule 1491)
The storm continued to drench Vasilya’s vardo as he drove following the supposed road towards Warthalkeel. The tarps and short overhang above the driver’s seat did little to stop any of the wind or rain from driving into his face. It was working its way into his clothing under the cloak that he had wrapped himself in. Chakano plodded along through the muddy mess that in better times was the road. Vasilya watched him carefully. If the need for shelter when they made camp was not so overwhelmingly required he would have insisted that they walk rather than make use of the wagon. But without Sorrow or Tifinin traveling with them to make the magical shelters, there was no choice. They would need to have shelter from the rain and the stoves for warmth if they were going to be fit to figure out what was going on in Warthalkeel. He looked over at Atalaya. She huddled against him, water dripping from her cloak and from the few tendrils of her reddish auburn hair that had worked their way out of the cloak hood. Vasilya shook his head. She looked as miserable as he felt.
“Atalaya, go inside. I’ve got this. Get warm and dry. When I can’t stand it any longer, I’ll switch places with you. We shouldn’t both be out here at the same time.” Seeing the flash of annoyance in Atalaya’s eyes, he added, “And you should check on Nevil. You don’t want her to feel abandoned, do you?”
“Not fair, Vaz.” Atalaya glared at Vasilya, but finally lowered her eyes. “Alright. You win. But you’ll have to promise to come in if you get too cold or wet. And I think we better take periodic rest breaks. Chakano is going to need them. Tif might not be here today, but I think a stop for elevenies is in order. We can make a small fire in the stove and make some coffee and let you warm up and dry off.”
Vasilya leaned over and gave Atalaya a quick kiss on her forehead. “Go on, get inside. I’ve got this.”
Atalaya reached out and cupped his check with the palm of her hand briefly and nodded. Turning around, she deftly opened the canvas screen leading into the vardo and moved inside. As quickly as possible she tied the canvas closed again and removed her dripping cloak and rolled it into a small bundle until she made her way into the open middle of the vardo. Hanging it on a peg near the door she made her way to the table and sat down next to Nevil.
“How are you doing? Is everything okay back here?”
Nevil turns, startled. Lost in her thoughts. "Oh, yes, well, it will be, I hope. Several recent events weigh heavy on my mind. I get so frustrated sometimes and it's not my best quality." Leaning forward on the table and palming a cold cup of tea. "Do you ever feel like you haven't done enough in this world?"
Atalaya returned Nevil’s gaze as she searched for one of Vasilya’s towels. Finding one, she squeezed out as much of the rainwater from her long braid as she could and then wrapped her head up in the towel.
“Yes. Frequently, far more often than I care to contemplate. My friends and I try, but everything always seems like too little.” After a short pause she adds, “And even that little seems to only last momentarily.” Atalaya hops up onto Vasilya’s bed, sitting crossed legged facing Neville. “If we can find a way to stop this storm, I’ll feel like I've done some good for the people of Salt Marsh, especially for Cirdan and his family, but …” She sighs. “... I know that that isn’t going to do anything to stop or solve all the other problems we have been involved in.”
“It sounds like you have seen some trouble yourself.” After a brief pause she adds, “You said that Ferrin, the druid that lives just north of Cirdan and his family asked you to try to help stop the storms here. How do you know him? Are you often here in Salt Marsh? I think I’d remember seeing you if you were around any of the times we have passed through this way.
Nevil stands smiling and offers her warm blanket to Atalaya. "I just got rid of the chill. Might as well use a warm one." Finishing her tea, Nevil reaches for her bag, pulls out a small pouch, then sets it on the table.
"Oddly, I can't say that I have ever stayed the night in Salt Marsh. Though I have passed through from time to time while traveling the coast." She loosens her chainmail and slides it off. Returning to her seat she lays it in her lap. "After taking my vows, I've stayed on the road and until recently, that has kept me further north." Opening the pouch she daubs the rag with the contents of the bag and begins to methodically work the loops of the armour.
"I really only know Ferrin through works and writings. A mutual acquaintance passed his concerns and mentioned the troubles here." Raising the armor, "When the message mentioned I might need this again, I did not delay."
A moment or two pass, then gesturing to the less well hidden trappings of adventure within the cart, "I am relieved to find capable company. If you don't mind my asking, how did you come to make residence with the Greenleafs? It's clear you're not all a social club."
Atalaya chuckles softly. “No, definitely not a social club. Ivar Greenleaf is a good friend and was a member of our group. He’s related to Cirdan, grandson or maybe great grandson. We had some trouble here awhile back. Sahuagin were trying to set up a stronghold in a partially flooded complex nearby. We helped to clear it out for the town council. But while we retook the building, there were still plenty of Sahuagin in the area threatening the town. Ivar felt like he was needed here to help keep his family safe and is currently doing that. I think he really prefers to be on or near the sea and we had spent a lot of time on different tasks away from the coast. Raven said that he is currently down in Riverport on family business.”
“The Greenleafs have been very good friends since the rest of us met them. They watched over our wards, Cirilli and Grinda when we needed to attend to things and they were not ready to safely accompany us. Both have gained a lot of skills very quickly. Cirilli’s circumstances before we found her were terrible and she asked to stay with us rather than return to her family. I’ve taken her as my ward and am so happy to see her growing and finding her way forward. She is very focused on learning all the ranger skills that she can, as fast as she can from whoever will teach her something new.”
Feeling warmer, Atalaya reaches into her bag and pulls out some spent arrows and a fletching kit and starts checking over her arrows and repairing them as needed. She occasionally looks at one, shakes her head sadly and breaks off the arrowhead and tosses the shaft into Vasilya’s wood box.
Ivar, Macterah, Tifinin and I were students together many years ago. Earlier this year circumstances brought us back together and we have been taking care of some problems that came up. Vasilya and his “family” showed up a bit after, just appearing at our door one night. A couple of his family knew our teacher and they looked after the place for a bit while we were occupied with a short quest. Sorrow is a very good minstrel and he invited us to go along with him to Salt Marsh to a music festival and for Ivar and Tifinin to join in with him. We got here and there was an issue with the town thinking that the place where the festival was held was haunted, and they were going to call the festival off. That didn’t go over very well with Sorrow. He wanted to perform there. So we helped to solve the mystery regarding what had been happening. Needless to say, the place was not haunted, but was being used as a smuggler’s hideout. We were able to resolve the issue and Sorrow got to perform at the festival. We have been journeying and questing together since then. There are two other’s of Vasilya’s family that aren’t here right now. Seraphina and Joan are looking after our house right now.”
Atalaya grows quiet and turns inward for a couple of moments. “We’ve had quite a number of adventures since then. We have all gotten very close.” She shakes her head. “That was probably more info than you wanted though. Sorry.”
“You said that you were a paladin of Eldath. Why did you choose that path, if you don’t mind telling me? I know a little about Eldath. She is a sister to Mielikki, and together they serve Silvanus. I’ve never met a fighter sworn to her service though. Those I’ve come into contact with before were always leading a more peaceful life.”
Nevil nods throughout Atalaya's response. Not wanting to interrupt and glad to have company during the monotony of armor maintenance. But as the stories go on, Nevil's pace of polishing slows. Almost as though she is half reminiscing.
Nevil smiles. "It must be wonderful to have such a big family. And so many people in service to the community."
Nevil stops polishing to give her hands a break. "It seems you've got the basics. It is true that Eldath teaches us to reject violence. So I understand how strange it must seem to see a devotee of non-violence carrying the trappings of war."
"And, yes, like other followers of Eldath, I believe that life is sacred and violence is abhorrent to life. However; with my vows, I may serve as an arbiter of peace in ways that are not typical of others who worship her."
"Some may believe her to be indifferent, but my lady is not blind to the pain of this world. Relieving suffering and addressing injustice, directly serves her will; as these are the seeds of violence."
"And while we strive to patiently lead the wicked toward a path of redemption…" Nevil’s tone turns grave, "sometimes they can not be changed and must be 'returned to the earth'."
In a more hopeful tone, "It is through my meditations to her stillness that I separate from the distractions of the world and find the clarity to judge the irredeemable."
"As to why... well, I had known the friendship of a handful of her followers when I lost my... everything. The stillness she brought my heart and the clarity of purpose soon after… made me whole."
A little embarrassed having gone on for so long, "I guess we both have our passions."
"So, how many Greenleaf's are there? I'm having a hard time keeping them straight. They just attract adventurers? Or like to take in the wayward?"
Atalaya chuckles softly at Nevil’s question. “I’m not sure that I can answer that. There are a lot of them; I’m not sure that I have even met all of them. Cirilli would be the one to ask that question. She has spent a lot of time here. You talked with Raven and Cirdan last night. Cirilli is friends with Elanil and Willow, two of the children you might see running around the estate. Elanil’s younger brother Ash is also around. If I have it straight, Ivar is a great grandson of Cirdan. Cirdan has a daughter named Jenny, who married an elf named Elaris. They have a son Birch. He and his wife Frittata are Ivar’s parents. Ivar’s oldest brother was killed fighting in the Slaughter of Redrun. He has a sister, River Wind, who is a healer and the mother to Willow. I’m not sure if she is married or not.
Then there are Elanil’s and Ash’s parents. Raven, whom you have met, is their father. He married Joella. There are smaller houses around the estate where the families live. There are probably more that I haven’t met. Oh yeah, Ivar said that he has a couple of cousins that he was very close to, Tamlin and Lindir. They are minstrels but use the house as a home base. I forget who they are related to.
So, a large family here. I’m sure that there are many people that I haven’t met or heard about yet.
Cirdan was an adventurer many years ago who did well for himself. When he was ready to put that life aside and settle down with a wife and raise a family he acquired the land in Salt Marsh. Cirdan is a full elf. He looks young when judging by human aging, but he is not. As to whether or not he opens his house to any wayward stranger, I don’t know. But if they were in need of help I think that he would, or at least get them the help they needed.
I hope you get a chance to meet Ivar at some point.
Atalaya gathered the arrows she had been working on and laid them to the side. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out another quiver full of arrows and started again examining each, breaking the heads off some of them and placing others into a pile to be refletched. “Ivar has a huge family. Mine is a lot smaller. There are just my parents, my brother Keith and his wife and my sister, Erendriel. She is training to be a midwife like our mother. My brother is a farmer. He is living outside of Loudwater. The rest of my family lives in the High Forest. My father is an elf. He is a ranger who mostly stays in the High Forest, or at least until recently. His sister is a druid and has married another ranger. They have twins who are a little older than I am. I was able to see them just a few weeks ago, for my birthday. We traveled to Otterwell to celebrate it.”
“Do you have any family?”
Nevil closes her eyes. Her face has a stillness. "My family is all around me, in the breeze, the sunrise, in fertile summer crops." Inhaling deeply with pause then opening her eyes. "I am thankful for the stillness the Goddess provides."
Then looking at Atalaya with mild bewilderment, "But I still feel... my brethren, my family, are dead. Their bodies defiled and turned to ash.
Shaking her head, "I swear something of them remains... My children dance with the rain. Their laughter is in the songs of birds." Nevil smiles, "my husband even pushes the wind that moves the leaves from my path."
Her expression hardening, "lately, things have been harder. Their unease reaches me on the rolls of thunder and we rage together with the sea."
Several awkward moments pass in silence as Nevil realizes what she has admitted out loud.
"I am sorry. Truth is a virtue to be sought in all ways... it has been three years since they were murdered and there are still times I struggle to find peace.”
"Regarding the truth of their death, and much of my life before my faith, please know that there are reasons some things between us must remain unspoken for now."
Trying to lighten the mood. "I hope this does not tarnish our relationship, like this weather is tarnishing my armour."
Nevil resumes her polishing.
“You still haven't told me why you have chosen this damp path of adventure and peril.”
[[If it helps to decipher the rambling, Nevil is wrestling with guilt for being the reason her family was killed. It's the root cause of her "battle rage" and is a point of conflict with her faith as an inability to find inner peace is a sign of spiritual failure. Unpacking this one is a therapist's dream.
As a side, side note, Gina, a few opportunities here. there may or may not actually be something remaining of her loved ones. And the scarlet brotherhood may or may not have intended this effect as a cruel form of retribution. Or she's just tormented.]]
Atalaya works silently repairing her arrows for a short time after Nevil finishes speaking. Her countenance looks troubled. Finally she looks up at Nevil. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. Your whole family is gone? I can’t begin to know what that feels like.” She puts down the arrows and walks towards Nevil. Kneeling down next to her she takes Nevil’s hands and says again. “I’m so sorry.”
After a moment, Atalaya returns to the bed and picks up the arrow she had been working on. “How did I become an adventurer?” she mused. “Well, I told you that my mother was a midwife and the local healer in the area where we lived. That is Otterwell, a small village near the eastern edge of the High Forest. She wanted me to be a midwife like she was, and did her utmost to teach me and encourage me to love her vocation. But,” and Atalaya chuckles softly, “I was ever called into the forests with my father. Nothing was ever as interesting or as much fun as following in his footsteps as he strode through the forest. Hunting, tracking, or just showing me the wonders of the woods, I hung on every word he said and everything that he would teach me. As I got older he became more structured in his teaching, as it became apparent that, though I would help my mother when she needed it, and actually enjoyed helping in the gardens to grow the herbs that she used, I was never going to become the healer she wished for me to be.”
I think he gave me my first bow and quiver of arrows when I was about 5 years old. He set up a target for me and marked off several shooting lines, each about 10 feet further back from the one before it. And I started learning to shoot and to care for my bow and the arrows. He taught me to give thanks to the animals that were killed to provide our family with food. By the time I was 8 years old he was taking me with him on hunting trips and I was actually able to make kills of the smaller animals. Although I cried every time my arrow made the kill.”
Atalaya stills, her thoughts turned inward. “My father told me that I should let the tears come. They proved that I was feeling the connection to the animals that were sustaining us. They proved that I had the soul of a guardian of the forest.” After a few moments she continued, “Father always had something to show or teach me. Sometimes we would climb the tallest tree we could find and just sit there and look out over the forest, feeling the wind, watching the clouds blow across the sky, listening to the call of the hawks and other hunting birds as they searched for their prey, or watching the deer making their way through the hidden paths below us.”
“As I got older, there would be times when we came across signs of goblins and orcs invading our forest and defiling it. When my father judged that their numbers were few and that he and I, together, could handle them, he started teaching me how to fight them and protect the land. The older I became, the more he taught me, and with that, the more I wanted to be just like him. For a season, he sent me to a friend, an adventurer who no longer roamed through the Sword Coast, to learn from her and to learn to work with others who were not my family. That was when I first met Ivar, Tif and Mac. It was good for me. I missed my family a lot. I missed my time with my father. But, I came to love and respect The Master. And I learned to work with those who were not elven.”
“If The Master had not brought us back together, I would be in the High Forest with my father and those of my family who guard it with him. But, she laid a task upon us which we have yet to accomplish. And so now I am an adventurer. Thankfully it is not always this damp a task.
I’m glad that I am not alone though. It would be a hard and lonely existence without my friends. Do you not have anyone to share your travels and tasks with? It is safer to have at least one friend at your back.
The depth of storytelling and warmth of the imagery allows Nevil to recenter herself. Caught in the moment, it slips her mind to prod the identity of Atalaya’s father. Nevil visibly relaxes as she recalls, "I have known a few from the High Forest. Looking at Atalaya with grateful eyes, "It seems each with a gift for storytelling."
"It was with these stories of a reverence for life and balance that I came to know the Still Mother. I also know of the connectedness that runs through all life, but it seems that few know it so deeply as they."
Smiling, "Atalaya, you are blessed to know the calling of your father and to feel the world in this way. I think I shall make this the focus of my evening meditations. You may join me later if you wish."
Nevil stands to fold her armor and returns the items to her pack. "There are only a few left who truly know me. But this was by design, I can't be connected..." realizing the irony, Nevil pauses in thought. Then returning to sit at the table, "You know, I am beginning to think I am here for more than one reason."
"So, you were just in Otterwell? I have heard that there was recently a fire near there causing some difficulty." Nevil teasing, "How old are you that your birthday cake made an event large enough to be passed along the vine?" Was everything settled when you were there?
“I’m not old enough for that to have been the cause of the fire,” Atalaya said laughing. “Now if it have been Cirdan’s….” Thinking back, Atalaya placed the arrows she had been working on aside. “What I had thought would just be a quick trip to Otterwell and then back to Parabor became a bit more involved. And yes, there was a fire around that time, a few days before my birthday actually. We had gotten to Otterwell earlier than usual. But for some reason, I don’t really remember why now, we decided to head off to this special ash grove that is the home of a very special friend of mine. We always visit with her on my birthday. But it was a very good thing that we went early this year. There was an evil wizard or sorcerer that was trying to burn her out of her tree. He had poisoned the water of the stream and spelled the local sprites into warring with each other. It was awful. But we were able to save Sossheni’s tree, and capture the caster. Once the spell causing the misunderstanding between the sprites was ended, they were so upset with him that they all attacked him and carried what was left of him off. We found a name in the pack he was carrying, Dubhar. We were never able to determine if that was his name, or the name of someone he took the magnifying glass from. I’m just glad we were able to put that fire out. You know, the dryad dies if her tree dies.”
Atalaya looks like she is lost in thought for a moment, but then picks up the story again as she starts moving around the vardo, opening containers and storage areas, obviously looking for something. “That was a memorable trip. We found a stone giant trying to destroy a stone bridge that had been built recently on the way to Otterwell by some Lamiak. You would be proud of us, we managed to get that resolved without resorting to violence.
“And then there was the mystery of why people were disappearing into the wilderness. Seems that a nearby temple had been taken over by some Ravenfolk who were using the villagers that they caught as sacrifices.” While she was talking Atalaya had found a nosebag for the horse and filled it with some oats and other grains and placed it near the door. “Vaz will want that for Chakano when he is ready to take a break,” she says looking at Nevil.
“Oh yes, and after that there was the bullywogs and the Froghemoth outside of Loudmouth near my brother’s farm. That was one big frog.”
Thinking some more, she adds, “Oh yes, and we burned down the tower at the supposed Temple of the Restful Lily on our way back to Parabor. That may be what you heard about. We didn’t let it get caught up in the forest though. I checked for hot spots before I left, but didn’t find any. I hope that it didn’t flare back up after we left.”
Atalaya and Nevil stagger slightly as the vardo comes to a stop. She can feel Vasilya moving off the driver’s seat. Atalaya grabs up her bow and quiver, quickly strapping the quiver over her shoulder and stringing the bow as she moves towards the door. A sharp rap on the door is heard and she reaches for an arrow as the door cautiously opens. Vasilya’s voice is heard, trying to shout over the noise from the storm, “Going to stop and rest Chakano for a bit and try to warm myself up. Is it safe to come inside?”
Atalaya is lowering her bow as Vasilya finishes opening the door. He watches as she places the arrow back into the quiver and swings it off her shoulder. “Get inside and close that door please. You are letting too much wind and rain in here,” she says as she smiles at him. “Or, were you planning on fixing up something for Chakano?” she says as she hands him the nosebag.
Boz hastily drew the canvas curtains closed behind him, shutting out the damp and chill. He slid his dripping cloak from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor at the foot of the canvas and stepped towards the queenie stove, reaching for a towel. "That trip to Otterwell and back was something else, yes?" he muttered, scrubbing his hair and leaning over the stove's warmth. "By Selune, I am weary of being wet. Sorrow should be eternally grateful he is not along on this trip." He cast a side glance to Nevil, a joke in his green eyes. "Although it would have been entertainment for us. My brother steams like embers when he gets wet."
He turns to Atalaya, taking the bag from her. "Yes, I'm going to dry Chakano off and give him some oats. He's earned it and then some. Nais tuk."
Watching Vasilya head out with the sack of grain for Chakano Atalaya quickly ran through a list of foods that he usually kept stocked in the vardo. And wondered what had been in the large basket Joella had handed Vaz as they were getting ready to leave that morning. Walking over to it, she found a large covered container of …. Opening the cover and smelling, she decided that there was a delicious smelling meat stew. Feeling the side of the container she realized that it was still warmish. Walking over to the stove she grabbed a pot, dumped the stew into it and placed it on the stovetop. From the woodbox, she gathered a few more sticks and some of the broken arrow shafts and added them to the fire inside the stove. Walking over to another storage area she grabbed 3 bowls, silverware and mugs for the coffee she knew he would want. Getting that started she turned to see Nevil watching her.
“We may as well eat when he gets back in. We need to rest Chakano and he needs to warm up before we go any farther.”
“You said that you were going to do your meditations tonight. What does that mean to you?”
Nevil's stager at the cart's stop, was more than slight. Dumbfounded and having difficulty processing all she just heard, she lightly falls into a seat to then regain her footing. "Indeed, I am proud! You did all that in just the last few weeks?
Nevil, excitedly, ”I'd say you are more than just competent adventurers. I'd also say Ferrin left out a few parts..."
Nevil sets the table as Atalaya tends the stove while occasionally reaching for things or giving directions to Nevil and pointing.
"For me they are essential. Morning and evening meditations are a time we set aside for self-reflection. By ensuring we are in balance, we maintain the inner stillness needed to judge what is an appropriate action or path.” Gesturing with forks while finishing with table preparations, “Typically they are focused around areas of personal struggle that may become unbalancing.” I have been increasingly unbalanced of late, but like the tides, there is both ebb and flow.” Nevil smiling at Atalaya, “And I believe that my tide may be shifting.”
Nevil sits, “Really, they are very simple and something people of many faiths may benefit from. But while very helpful, daily meditations can not replace ritual bathing which is best for worship. Then if consecrated sites are not available, remote waterfalls or bodies of freshwater are preferred, but any isolated wildland will do in a pinch.
Vaz pauses at the door before entering. Nevil continues not at all realizing how this must sound out of context, "Of course this worship can be rather intimate as it is best performed unclad and barefoot."
Nevil smiling, “Vaz, I don't know how much you can hear while driving, but Atalaya and I have been really hitting it off back here.” Nevil gestures for Vaz to sit, “how did you get mixed into this mess? Did you just say Sorrow was your brother?”
Boz smiles fondly and lets himself drop onto the bed with a weary sigh. "Sorrow is not my brother by blood, but by choice. If it was by blood, I would also have the Infernal marks." He nods. "My family is now what came to me by chance. Or destiny, perhaps. He is from Balder's Gate, I am from the Western Heartlands. We both travel a lot. Our paths crossed on the road one night. It's good to have allies in this world."
He reached over and poured himself a cup of coffee, settling his long fingers around the warmth of the cup. "It was Seraphina and I for a while. Trouble on the road one night, he and his sister-by-choice, Joan, fought at our back. By the time we got to the next town, we were kumpania. Tribe." He took a long, bracing sip, sighing with pleasure. "I was alone for a long while. My own kumpania gone over time. Violence, sickness. The world can be a hard place, yes?"
He reaches for the towel and scrubs his hair again, breaking up the dampness. "And then we came to pay our respects to the Master when she passed. Sorrow and Joan were her students years ago. Learned of some trouble, and figured we should help before we got back on the road. And then..."
He glances at Atalaya, a softness in his green eyes, light in the dim glow of embers.. "And then, I stayed too long."
Indeed it is. With someone you love, the mornings are warmer, food tastes better, and the knocks of the road are easier. Forgive me if I am wrong, are you two wed? I can’t help but notice how close you are.
A faint blush colors Boz's dark complexion. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. "No," he says, almost to himself. "We only met about 8 months ago or so. and have been together for less than that." His eyes wander back up to Atalaya's and he smiles softly. There are volumes in that gaze, and they speak more than his words do. "We spent a lot of time doing watches in the night together. And during that time...the mornings became warmer and the road became easier."
"Ah, well. No reason feel shame in that. The path that you are both on quickens the bond. My husband and I met in similar circumstances." Looking warmly to them both,"But wed or not, it will not change what you are to each other. That much is obvious."
Nevil picks up a shortsword and ties it to her waist. She shakes out a cloak and drapes it over her shoulders. Fastening the cloak, looking at them both, "But with this path we have chosen, the future is not certain and the road doesn't have to be cold." Realizing that her words would ring true for everyone in the little vardo, Nevil's eyes well with tears.
"I think I will stretch my legs and take a quick walk about. Um, do you have a ferrier's pick? I'll check on Chakano's hooves while I'm out." Vaz points to a drawer. Nevil pockets the pick, raises her hood, and steps into the rain.
Atalaya looks up quickly and notices the sadness in Nevil’s eyes as she fastens her cloak around her. She walks over to Vasilya and leans her head against his shoulder as the door closes behind Nevil. Feeling Vasilya’s arm grasp her at her waist and pull her closer to him, she looks up at him and says, “Her family was all killed. She said it happened about three years ago. She didn’t say how or why. But she still feels the hurt of it very deeply I think. I think she took her vows to Eldath sometime after that.” Standing enfolded in Vasilya’s arms she shuddered a little. “I can’t imagine how I would feel if I lost my family like you and Nevil have. I’m glad you have found your new kumpania. I hope that Nevil will be able to do that also.”
Taking a depth breath, Atalaya pulled away from Vasilya and returned to the stew warming on the stove. Taking another breath, she began stirring the stew again, while wiping a tear from her eye. Vasilya stood looking at her as she worked at the stove. When her hand reached up to wipe away another tear, he stepped in close behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist again. Pulling her against him, Vasilya murmured softly, in Gurrish, words that flowed over Atalaya. Too emotional at the moment to try to translate what he was saying, Atalaya remained within the safety of his arms as she got control over her emotions.
Finally turning towards him, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then pulled away as she reached for the bowls. As she was dishing up the stew the door opened and Nevil stepped into the vardo.
A good bit later, giving Vaz and Atalaya time to warm, Nevil returns; stomping and shaking herself to announce her presence. She is humming an obscure jaunty tune that was favored by her Master from many years ago. Opening the door, she casually scans the two lovers, looking for signs of recognition.
Atalaya smiled as Nevil entered the vardo. Setting the steaming bowls of stew on the table she then picked up the coffee pot and started pouring mugs for each of them. As she started pouring the third cup, her hand shook as she realized what she was hearing. Nevil seemed in a much better mood than when she left and was humming something to herself. That quickly, an image of her friend and teacher sitting at the table in her home surrounded by students and singing that very lively song crept into her mind. It had been a night of celebration. They had done well with the task the Master had set for them, completing it within the time constraints that the Master had set for them and without any injuries. And then the memory faded and she was back in the vardo.
“You seem to be feeling better now,” she said to Nevil, handing her the mug of coffee she had just poured.
Nevil notes the change in Atalaya's demeanor along with the references to a memorial service in Parabor, as she removes her cloak and hangs it by the door. With a half-smile, "Yes, more than I can adequately explain.”
Nevil accepts the cup, but pauses touching Atalaya’s hand, "I'm sorry if I have disturbed you. It is not right of me to burden your thoughts at our first meeting."
Turning to Vaz, "Vaz, I am also sorry. I only meant to suggest what you clearly already know. What you have is worth fighting for even if it means it might be lost tomorrow. I think I just needed to say it outloud to remind myself."
Nevil sits, "Please eat, I will do my best to explain." Pausing for a sip from her cup.
"It has been a long time since I've had such good company and I have found our discussions to be a much needed release. You see, I have been isolating myself to protect what is left of my kumpania. While it was well intentioned, I see it has not served me or our cause very well." Nevil smiles warmly to both," I am reminded of so many good things in your company. I think after this, it may be time to find them ."
"So, those were not tears of sadness, they were tears of hope. I will be able to center myself again tonight after a good cup of my tea and evening meditations." [Prideful Half truth]
"I mostly left the vardo to give you two a moment of privacy for whatever." [Prideful Half truth]
Nevil begins to eat.
Atalaya hands a bowl of stew to Vasilya and picks up her own and then squeezes around the table with Nevil. “I’m glad that you are feeling better.” Not sure what else to say to her, Atalaya turns her attention to the food, reaching for a trail biscuit and dunking it in the stew to soften it.
After several minutes of quiet eating, Atalaya looks at Nevil again. “We didn’t mean to call up such sad memories. Let’s talk about something else. I’ve told you about some of our recent adventures. Is there something you have done since taking your vows to Eldath that you are proud about having accomplished and are willing to share with Vaz and me?
Nevil blowing on spoonfuls, "Sadly my stories are not as interesting. It's been less than a year since I took my vows. So, I haven't exactly had the time to develop a list of accomplishments quite like what you described earlier. Getting my feet under me took some time." Nevil smiles, "but patience is often worth the result."
"I imagine that's why my master sent me to Tyrn." Nevil cuckles to herself, " 'Tryn the Patient' is quite the character. Nevil seems nostalgic, "where the master had a gift for molding the talents of young adventurers, Tryn had in picking people back up. She wouldn't let me leave without agreeing to seeing him first.
He's got a First Order circle south of Tribor with a small group acting as a safe haven for travelers passing through the Sword Mountains on the Long Road. There are always a lot of orc warbands passing through the area. So, I thought it odd that Tyrn insisted that I come to assist Ferrin. He practically had my bags packed. But, I can see now why it was so urgent."
Nevil scoots around Atalaya. She collects the bowls and begins cleaning up.
"But it's nice to be back closer to the area where I grew up. The foothills are a poor substitute. It was dry and you could travel for days without seeing a proper forest. I miss the smell of the sea and the lushness of the vale."
Eyeing a small mortar and pestle on the shelf, "Might I make use of your kitchen while I'm up?" Atalaya nods. Appreciative, Nevil dries her hands. She then takes two packets of wax paper and a small pouch from her bag and sets them on the small table.
The pouch is a soft velvety leather, worn with time or perhaps heavy use. It emanates a mild fragrant scent. The packets of paper contain dried herbs. "I didn't have time to prepare these earlier and it might be nice to have some later. It's been a hard day.”
She offers the bag to Atalaya for inspection. Inside are the remnants of a dark tan finely ground powder with a sweet earthy smell similar to that of sage and vanilla. "Thorns of a harlthorn bush and hoof-leaf, dried and ground in equal measure. Tyrn taught me the recipe and he called it 'nightcap'. Sprinkled in tea or with tobacco, it has a nice effect without dulling your wits. It should be used in moderation of course."
[ with GM's permission... Nevil's "Nightcap" Effect: It is mildly euphoric, enough to calm the mind and relax the body. Similar to alcohol but without the loss of judgment. Mildly addictive with frequent use, not hallucinogenic. Per use, 1d4 chance (or at GMs discretion) of -1 strength and dexterity for 4 hours, effect stacks with repeated doses. Cost comparison: 1gp per gram (two doses). Tobacco is 1gp for 4 grams (eight doses).
Nevil begins to gently grind the herbs for several minutes releasing a pleasant aroma which fills the vardo.
"Vaz, I grew up in a seaport near an inn with travelers from many places, but I can't quite place your accent. Where are you from?"
Vas is watching Nevil prepare the tea with interest. "That has a very nice scent. I'm interested in trying some." He looks up at her face and smiles. "I'm originally from the Western Heartlands and the People of the Highway, and my first language is Gurri. I suppose I retain the accent of my tribe, yes?" He chuckles softly. "You are not the first to ask, there aren't that many of us around, especially away from the Heartlands. I suppose it's something that connects me to my roots."
Nevil, turning with interest, “I have not seen the heartlands, tell me of her people? And how did you end up so far away?
"Ah," Boz takes a noisy quaff from the top of the tea. " Nais tuk. I like this." He holds his mug in front of his face, inhaling the fragrant steam and letting the heat from the cup seep into his fingers. "Maybe not so far away for us. We usually don't stay in one place very long." He takes another sip. "The moors were getting bad. Well, more bad than usual. Moved in closer to the trade routes and the towns. Easier to make a living, yes? And safer." He glances over at Atalaya, as if to confirm the memory. "We saw an abandoned Gurrish camp up near Harpshield...remember that?" He shrugs. "We are traveling people. We go where the moon takes us. And then when Seraphina and I became friends, she had business in the towns. And Sorrow is a performer, so we stick to the roads and the towns for him as well."
Atalaya shakes her head while laughter glistens in her eyes. “Vaz, I remember the Gur camp at Harpshield well enough. I was missing you greatly and wished that you had been there to help interpret the signs we saw there.”
“You on the other hand, were in Riverport with your kumpania and Sorrow was meeting Hope. Don’t you remember? You must be either remembering my telling you about Harpshield or you are remembering another time you were there. Or combining the two memories perhaps?”
Looking into his eyes, she adds, “I think you were outside in the cold and rain too long. I”ll take the next shift driving the vardo. It’s time to get started again anyway. We still have a lot of miles to travel today.” Atalaya gives his shoulder a squeeze as she stands and heads over towards her cloak.
Smiling at Nevil she adds, “It’s been nice getting to know you. Let’s talk some more later.”
“Yes, let's.” Nevil cleans up her preparations and lets Vaz enjoy his early nightcap. She writes a bit in her journal reflecting on what she has learned of her two new companions. Then, expecting to have to take a night watch, she finds a comfortable spot and tries to catch some sleep.
Time passes. After a couple hours Vasilya opens the hanging canvases and tells Atalaya to stop the horse. He pushes his way out onto the driver’s seat as he looks out over the landscape after quickly lashing the canvas back down. The wind and rain are still buffeting the landscape and the path is nothing but a mucky smear under Chakano’s hooves. Vasilya hops down and walks up to his horse. He whispers something into his ear, and Chakano whickers and shakes his head. Then nuzzling Vasilya’s shoulder he greedily devoured the carrots that Vasilya held out to him. After a couple of moments, Vasilya made his way back to the vardo.
After climbing back up to the driver’s seat he said, “Chakano can go for a bit longer. Time for you to go inside and warm up. We’ll stop when it gets too dark to see or when Chakano needs to rest. We aren’t going to make it to Warthalkeel today.” When Atalaya didn’t move, he gently took the reins from her hands, gave them a slight squeeze, and nudged her towards the canvas behind him. “Go on. Get inside. I won’t be out here too much longer, it’s going to be dark soon.”
Atalaya nods and jumps down to the ground, going around to the door of vardo to enter. Knocking and calling out to Nevil, she entered and quickly shut the door. Taking off her sopping cloak, she hung it on a peg and headed for the coffee pot. Swaying slightly as the vardo started moving again, she regained her balance and carefully poured herself some of the warm beverage. Looking around she noted that someone had scattered the towels across the vardo in an effort to help them dry out. Feeling for the driest one, she started to wipe off as much water from her face and hands as she could. Then sitting down on the bed, she started working on her hair, trying to keep it from dripping. She then quickly changed into dry clothes and found places to hang her dripping ones. Fingering her wet boots, she turned back to her pack and pulled out another pair of dry socks to add to what she was wearing and left the boots sitting on the floor near the stove.
Noticing that Nevil was still resting, she moved down the table area and pulled out her sketch pad and began drawing to pass the time. After a while, she went over to the kitchen area and found 3 potatoes that she thought would be a tasty addition to their dinner. It was surely close enough to dinner time; she cleaned and placed them in the coals to bake. She returned to her drawing and several pictures later, she felt the vardo stop again and shake slightly as Vasilya climbed down to unhitch Chakano. Atalaya refilled the feed bag and set it near the door to wait for Vasilya.
Tossing a few more pieces of wood into the stove, she turned to look through the food stores. Checking the stew pot from that afternoon, she placed it back on the stove. She wished that Grinda or Seraphina were present to take over the cooking tasks, but eventually decided that some honeyed carrots would go well with the stew and potatoes. Atalaya started preparing the carrots.
Nevil slept deeply, rocked by the motion of the cart. It was only with the sounds of dinner preparations that she awoke to see Atalaya instead of Vaz. Nevil sat up, a little stiff from leaning against the paneled wall. "Oh, I slept longer than I intended. Wake me next time, I want to pull my weight." Atalaya, warmly gestures to the carrots on the table. Nevil is happy to be able to contribute and begins to peel and chop the carrots as instructed. "Vaz on his way in?" Atalaya looks over her shoulder with a smile, "yes, but we have a few minutes before he gets Chakano settled. We're stopping here for the night." A few minutes later Nevil hands the carrots to Atalaya and begins to set the table.
Atalaya was standing at the stove when Vasilya finished settling his horse and knocked on the door to the vardo. As he opened the door he called into the wagon, “It’s just me, no need for any arrows!”
“Lucky for you, they are not at hand at the moment. Come in and close that door, and get yourself dried off. It is going to be a few minutes before dinner is ready.”
Vaz enters chilled. He removes his wet items and places them by the door. He grabs the driest of the collected towels and does his best to rid himself of the cold. Then he sits at the table. Nevil takes the cooking spoon and shoos Atalaya toward Vaz. "You are not needed here." Atalaya, pleasantly surprised, pours a fresh cup of coffee, hands it to Vaz, and huddles next to him with a warmed blanket. Nevil sets a smaller pot of water on the stove. Waiting for it to boil, she minds dinner with her back turned to the couple. Offering them as much privacy as is possible for three in the little vardo.
After dinner has settled, Nevil clears the table and stands by the stove. "I believe I'll have a nightcap to help with meditation. Anyone else? Nevil asks. Vaz gestures with his hand to decline, “No thank you, I'm already tired and someone must keep watch.” Atalaya nods with interest, "I believe I will join you." Nevil smiles, "Excellent, I hope you'll find it to be a wonderful end to the day." She hands a warm cup to Atalaya and begins to sip her own.
Nevil removes from her pack a small wooden bowl and narrow white cloth with broad green and blue stripes near the ends. She opens the weather flaps briefly to set the bowl in the rain. "The rain is pure. I'll explain while it fills."
"We can sit here at the table. An awkward position yes, but we don't have much space in which to work. If you will allow me, I will offer a prayer and focus for the meditation. We then sit and reflect silently on its meaning. If nothing comes to mind, it is also common to seek inner stillness during this time."
With the effects of the tea setting in, Nevil begins. She unfolds the cloth, and wraps the middle of the rudimentary stole several times around her left hand; leaving the ends to drape or flow where they may. "This reminds us that we are connected to all life."
Nevil reclaims the bowl and sets it down on the table for inspection. The wooden bowl is the size of two cupped palms. It is fire hardened heartwood, oiled, and carved with great skill to give the effect of flowing water. "This was carved by my husband. It reminds me of many good things."
Raising the bowl to begin, "Water is life. We remind ourselves, that like with a river, great imbalance brings turbulent waters. Through balance in all things, stillness returns. Let us seek the stillness of the green mother within ourselves and in the world around us. Mother we reflect; How do our ties with others bring stillness into the world?"
Nevil sets the bowl down on the table. She sits, wrapping a loose end of the sash around her other hand. She rests her loosely bound hands palm up on her lap, holding the middle of the sash between her fingers. Closing her eyes she begins her meditation. Her expression and body visibly soften.
Atalaya accepted the nightcap tea from Nevil and sipped it slowly as she watched her prepare for the meditation. Feeling the effects of the harlthorn and hoof leaf begin to take effect she allowed her mind and body to calm as in the first stages of her own meditation ritual. As Nevil began speaking about the Green Mother and balance, Atalaya allowed herself to follow Nevil’s voice. She found herself pondering Nevil’s question. Realizing that what Nevil spoke of as “stillness” was what she thought of as being in “peace and harmony” with the natural world, her hand slowly crept into her pouch and she pulled out a small tooled leather token. It was actually two pieces of leather braided together. One side had tooled into the leather a white unicorn head with a golden horn facing to the left. Encircling it was a wreath of ash leaves. On the other side was a white pole star on a dark green ash leaf. She placed the token in her right hand and her gaze altered between the bowl of water and the leather token. She allowed her thoughts to wander along the ties that she felt bound her to the others in her life. First those of her family, her parents, Cirilli, Vaz, her brother and sister and her extended elven family. Then to Sosshenni. Breathing slowly she followed others to her Master and to her traveling companions. There were threads binding her to the Greenleafs in Salt March, and others out to several of those in Joulkon. And then noticed the slimmest of threads reaching towards Nevil, as if it was searching for her.
Nevil begins to unwrap her hands. She opens her eyes and meets the gaze of both Vaz and Atalaya. She reaches and picks up the bowl. "We bring the stillness within ourselves to carry it into the world." She offers some of its contents to anyone who appears to have participated. Atalaya accepts the bowl and drinks a portion of the water. Smiling at Nevil, she hands the bowl back to her. Nevil drinks the remainder and smiles peacefully, "it's that simple." Care to share your thoughts before bed?
Placing the leather square from her hand onto the table with the unicorn showing, Atalaya takes a deep breath and lets it out. Still feeling very calm and relaxed she settles back against the wall of the vardo. Looking up at Nevil she says, “You know Mielikki and Eldath considered themselves sisters. Both in their own ways serve Silvanus to protect the natural lands of Faerun. She? They? Brought back to me the remembrance of all those that I am tied to in one way or another. Like a web growing ever larger.
Nevil is moved by Atalaya’s words, pondering their significance. Gesturing to Atalaya's prayer focus, "I see you also have faith and are guided well."
In my meditations, I followed past connections. Each represented by a spring of water, our rivulets joining, moving together, growing stronger moving through the world. I saw my own spring today; isolated and weak, it is unable to change the world through which it runs." Nevil begins to gather and pack her prayer items. "Today, being with you both, has reminded me so much of what service can be. And my meditations have convinced me that I was wrong to break my bonds. Hopefully, they will forgive me."
Do you want me to take the first watch?
Atalaya looks over at Vasilya and notes his tired expression. “Yes, that would be helpful. I”ll awaken in about 4 hours, if there are no problems before then. Then I’ll finish the watch.
Reaching into her belt pouch she pulls out a small pouch containing her Goodberries. Dividing them into thirds she gives a portion to Vaz and to Nevil. “These are Goodberries. Are you familiar with them? They provide healing and nutrition when in need. They only last for a day, so not making use of them makes no sense to me. I make as many as I can at the end of each day, especially when there may be a threat of danger in the coming day.” She slowly eats her own portion.
Once she has finished this, Atalaya pulls out her sketchbook and looks through the pages. She carefully pulls out two of them. Looking up, she sees Vasilya looking at her. Smiling, she takes one of the two pages and hands it to him. Looking at it he sees a drawing of the Hond Ebrath under a full moon with two figures, one male and the other female, gazing into the night sky.
As she picks up the other, she looks hesitantly at Nevil. “I drew this for you while you were sleeping. The scene just came to me.” She hands Nevil the drawing. Looking at it Nevil sees a forest glade with a waterfall tumbling down a rocky cliff behind it. The waterfall splashes into a small pool with rocks along one side of it and a large weeping willow tree with branches trailing into the water on the other side. Peeking through the hanging branches of the willow is a unicorn head gazing outward at anyone holding the drawing.
Stepping back from Nevil and turning to her backpack she takes out the bag of holding and reaches into it. After a moment she pulls out a bag of mistletoe. Gathering a few small sprigs of it, she puts the bag away. Then, seating herself on the bed, she cradles the mistletoe in her left palm and slowly traces along the sprigs she softly mutters some words in elvish. Closing her eyes she breathes upon the mistletoe and watches as it changes into Goodberries. Counting them, she places them into her berry pouch and places it into the larger belt pouch. Then gathering her bow and quiver and placing it near to hand, she stretches out on the bed, turning her back to the others and settles into her own meditation state.
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