After the Glade - Milo and Mace (post-session narrative)
Jan 22, 2020 10:54:01 GMT
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Post by Milo Brightmane on Jan 22, 2020 10:54:01 GMT
(Thanks to Ian (Menace) for agreeing to some RP)
(Set during the return journey from A Test of Compre-hen-sion)
The walk through the Feythorn Forest had been quiet so far, each individual in their own heads. The sole exception had been the newcomer Imp who had chattered and made enquiries for a good hour, undeterred by the lacklustre responses.
Milo had been perhaps the most silent. The weight of the knowledge he had gained, the existence of the Order of the Eternal Pyre, weighed heavily on him, but in some ways that was a problem for the future. He could do nothing about it in the middle of a forest. What occupied his mind most was not the future but the past. The visions he had seen while racing to the mountain, the obstacles he had pushed through in that verdant, unreal Daring, troubled him. Something had dug into his mind and had revealed his fears to him, and the quiet walk through the trees was an opportunity to process what it had all meant. He looked around at the rest of the group that had helped him fight off the Pyre and defend the phoenix Kaefaerion, and wondered.
Wil was a stranger to him, and Milo's impression of him so far had been of a man trustworthy, though volatile. Bubbles was having a moment and had been insisting on going by 'Lilith'. Milo had no wish to pry into whatever was going on there. And of course there was Imp... No, the only one here that Milo felt might yield some helpful insight was Mace. He tromped over to where the slight tiefling was picking his way genteelly between low hanging branches.
"Mace."
The Tiefling looked up, as if stirred from his own deep thoughts. It had been a while since they had met in Daring the last time, practising the dwarven language, and while Mace had seemed jovial yet reserved then, something clearly had changed about him in the last few months. Battle scars no doubt, as the adventuring life and the recent war in Kul'Goran had likely left, but something in the Tiefling's silence, pregnant with contemplation, was nonetheless new.
"Yes Milo? Anything I can help you with? By my reckoning, we still have a good hour before we will reach the edge of the forest - as far as one can be sure of such things when returning from the Feywild." A brief chuckle, more dutiful than heartfelt.
"Well, quite." The dwarf fell in step besides Mace, picking his way under a cracked and fallen tree, a victim of recent storms. "No, I just..." He paused, unsure how to broach the subject, then with a heavy sigh decided not to beat around the bush. "What did you see? After the glade?"
Mace's eyes flicked quickly between the ground and Milo. "Oh, nothing much. A vision of a Three Headed Ettin stomping about, familiar faces perched on its shoulders - Feywild hallucinations, of course. You cant trust what they show you. It is all a rouse, a dream. And dreams aren't real..." He trailed off, eyes wandering to faraway thoughts and memories once more.
"I saw the Ettin too." Milo smiled at the memory of the creature, versions of Markas, Baine and others sitting in branches that grew from it and from each other. "And that post-woman, Wendy?" She had seemed unchanged, but as Mace said, you couldn't necessarily trust the Feywild.
"I meant more... Was there anything that felt like it was just for you?" Milo interrupted himself before Mace could respond, "Please tell me if that's too personal a question!"
"Oh, not at all!" Mace replied with a short-lived laugh. "I did see someone from my past. Someone I owed an apology to. It was a dream, I know it wasn't real..." His eyes lost focus once more, reliving the memory, "...but it felt right nontheless. Some words remain unspoken, lives that could have been forever cut short. Dreams are all we have to see how things could have been different." Something in the way it was said spoke of pain and regret, hope and redemption. Some things are just not conveyed in words.
"What of you Milo? What did the Feywild show you?" Mace said, looking at Milo, black eyes full of curiosity, the spark returned.
"I believe I saw my fears made real." The dwarf went quiet as he manoeuvred around a large, knotted root, before continuing. "Old friends turned against me. My decisions based on lies and my own hubris. My way home forever closed." He met Mace's inscrutable black eyes briefly before turning away. "Or perhaps it was showing me truths I refuse to see."
"Or the dream simply meant to test your resolve to press on regardless. For if your purpose waivers, could you have done what needed to be done, and saved the Phoenix? You cannot know what is happening in places far away. All you know for certain is the task in front of you. So tell me friend", the Tiefling asked, "were you successful? Because in the end, that is all that matters."
"I was." Milo smiled. "I saw through the lies, and I fought to make a path home. I believe the phoenix even helped me, at points. As for the task in front of me, something needs to be done about the Order of the Pyre. I'd be very grateful for your help, though I would understand if you were reluctant. I have no idea how far this thing goes."
"Milo", Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, pleased that for once he didn't have to reach up or awkwardly pad someone's flank or arm, "dearest of all my friends. I would be delighted to assist you in this matter." The sparkle had stolen back into his eyes and he flashed his best toothy grin. "I expect it will be quite profitable as well, and what really is life, if not the pursuit of profit?"
"I can't say that's really my approach, but I'll be glad to have you with me." The dwarf looked forward suddenly and exclaimed "Ah! You were right about the journey, that can't have been more than half an hour!"
A short way before them the dappled shade of the forest thinned, and quickly gave way to open ground. The evening was drawing in, and Daring Heights was visible as distant clusters of lights scattered across the hillside.
(Set during the return journey from A Test of Compre-hen-sion)
The walk through the Feythorn Forest had been quiet so far, each individual in their own heads. The sole exception had been the newcomer Imp who had chattered and made enquiries for a good hour, undeterred by the lacklustre responses.
Milo had been perhaps the most silent. The weight of the knowledge he had gained, the existence of the Order of the Eternal Pyre, weighed heavily on him, but in some ways that was a problem for the future. He could do nothing about it in the middle of a forest. What occupied his mind most was not the future but the past. The visions he had seen while racing to the mountain, the obstacles he had pushed through in that verdant, unreal Daring, troubled him. Something had dug into his mind and had revealed his fears to him, and the quiet walk through the trees was an opportunity to process what it had all meant. He looked around at the rest of the group that had helped him fight off the Pyre and defend the phoenix Kaefaerion, and wondered.
Wil was a stranger to him, and Milo's impression of him so far had been of a man trustworthy, though volatile. Bubbles was having a moment and had been insisting on going by 'Lilith'. Milo had no wish to pry into whatever was going on there. And of course there was Imp... No, the only one here that Milo felt might yield some helpful insight was Mace. He tromped over to where the slight tiefling was picking his way genteelly between low hanging branches.
"Mace."
The Tiefling looked up, as if stirred from his own deep thoughts. It had been a while since they had met in Daring the last time, practising the dwarven language, and while Mace had seemed jovial yet reserved then, something clearly had changed about him in the last few months. Battle scars no doubt, as the adventuring life and the recent war in Kul'Goran had likely left, but something in the Tiefling's silence, pregnant with contemplation, was nonetheless new.
"Yes Milo? Anything I can help you with? By my reckoning, we still have a good hour before we will reach the edge of the forest - as far as one can be sure of such things when returning from the Feywild." A brief chuckle, more dutiful than heartfelt.
"Well, quite." The dwarf fell in step besides Mace, picking his way under a cracked and fallen tree, a victim of recent storms. "No, I just..." He paused, unsure how to broach the subject, then with a heavy sigh decided not to beat around the bush. "What did you see? After the glade?"
Mace's eyes flicked quickly between the ground and Milo. "Oh, nothing much. A vision of a Three Headed Ettin stomping about, familiar faces perched on its shoulders - Feywild hallucinations, of course. You cant trust what they show you. It is all a rouse, a dream. And dreams aren't real..." He trailed off, eyes wandering to faraway thoughts and memories once more.
"I saw the Ettin too." Milo smiled at the memory of the creature, versions of Markas, Baine and others sitting in branches that grew from it and from each other. "And that post-woman, Wendy?" She had seemed unchanged, but as Mace said, you couldn't necessarily trust the Feywild.
"I meant more... Was there anything that felt like it was just for you?" Milo interrupted himself before Mace could respond, "Please tell me if that's too personal a question!"
"Oh, not at all!" Mace replied with a short-lived laugh. "I did see someone from my past. Someone I owed an apology to. It was a dream, I know it wasn't real..." His eyes lost focus once more, reliving the memory, "...but it felt right nontheless. Some words remain unspoken, lives that could have been forever cut short. Dreams are all we have to see how things could have been different." Something in the way it was said spoke of pain and regret, hope and redemption. Some things are just not conveyed in words.
"What of you Milo? What did the Feywild show you?" Mace said, looking at Milo, black eyes full of curiosity, the spark returned.
"I believe I saw my fears made real." The dwarf went quiet as he manoeuvred around a large, knotted root, before continuing. "Old friends turned against me. My decisions based on lies and my own hubris. My way home forever closed." He met Mace's inscrutable black eyes briefly before turning away. "Or perhaps it was showing me truths I refuse to see."
"Or the dream simply meant to test your resolve to press on regardless. For if your purpose waivers, could you have done what needed to be done, and saved the Phoenix? You cannot know what is happening in places far away. All you know for certain is the task in front of you. So tell me friend", the Tiefling asked, "were you successful? Because in the end, that is all that matters."
"I was." Milo smiled. "I saw through the lies, and I fought to make a path home. I believe the phoenix even helped me, at points. As for the task in front of me, something needs to be done about the Order of the Pyre. I'd be very grateful for your help, though I would understand if you were reluctant. I have no idea how far this thing goes."
"Milo", Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, pleased that for once he didn't have to reach up or awkwardly pad someone's flank or arm, "dearest of all my friends. I would be delighted to assist you in this matter." The sparkle had stolen back into his eyes and he flashed his best toothy grin. "I expect it will be quite profitable as well, and what really is life, if not the pursuit of profit?"
"I can't say that's really my approach, but I'll be glad to have you with me." The dwarf looked forward suddenly and exclaimed "Ah! You were right about the journey, that can't have been more than half an hour!"
A short way before them the dappled shade of the forest thinned, and quickly gave way to open ground. The evening was drawing in, and Daring Heights was visible as distant clusters of lights scattered across the hillside.
