A Cure For Heartache - Ruthenia Truelove - 10.08.22
Aug 20, 2022 15:57:22 GMT
Jaezred Vandree, Andy D, and 2 more like this
Post by Ruthenia Truelove on Aug 20, 2022 15:57:22 GMT
“How can you be so uncomfortable to ride? You are literally incorporeal!” Ruthenia shouted to her shadowy steed, who was already dissipating as Ruthenia pushed open the door to her modest tower, if the two storey structure that just barely contained her study-cum-laboratory and her bedroom could be referred to as such. The raven that was resting on her shoulder flew onto its regular perch atop the writing desk tucked into the corner of the small, stone walled room.
Ruthenia gingerly lowered herself down into an armchair on the other side of the room, catching herself in the mirror on the wall.
The realisation hit her like a bolt; the confounded custard creams were still all over her! She raised a hand to cast a spell before remembering that she neglected to prepare Dispel Magic. Breathing a sigh, she clicked her fingers to summon an unseen servant as she leaned back and closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Myrtle, take down my diction- no, pour me some wine, then write this down…”
Adventuring keeps one in coin when one is otherwise jobless, and with the marked abundance of divine casters in this frontier land, that is where I find my current position. No bother, I have provided for myself suitable enough lodgings and my personal expenses are meager enough for me to save the majority for certain objects of interest. No, it is not necessarily the money that draws one to the call, but other materials.
And so this job seemed like the perfect setup; transport of a valuable object between two cities? Not only could one potentially find new bodies on the road, we could be set upon by my most favourite of peoples; bandits! Who would mourn them if they made the mistake of setting upon our carriage? And nobody would even accuse me that hard, I would even offer to bury them if my adventuring party was so inclined. It’s not like they’d remember where they lay, but I would.
Still, it didn’t help that my present company tended more towards ‘upstanding citizen’ than ‘cutthroat renegade’. Amble and Lolli were both my contemporaries in the studies of the arcane, however both took their magic in very different directions than mine, as most tend to. It took me a while to work out but it seemed that Amble was an enchanter, a user of the mental magics. Their utility I understand for sure, but I don’t think I’d ever met one that wasn’t downright sinister before now. He was well adjusted for all intents and purposes, a surprise to be sure.
Lolli reminded me of my younger self, save for all the hot pink and gumdrops, in all the best and worst ways. So cheerful, so full of positivity and life, yet so utterly, painfully, naive. Still, one must allow for the exuberance of youth, even if it comes dusted in sugar and wrapped in far too many bows. Truth be told, I know not of the societal tendencies of the harengon, but if Lolli is an exemplar of their spirit, then I must say that I almost envy them. Almost. I wish this young conjurer the best of luck and I hope she finds whatever it is she’s looking for. I also hope it doesn’t come at personal cost to her.
Felix is a bard. Need I say any more? Helpfully enough it was he that seemed to have the fewest moral qualms with the nature of what we were going to do. Whilst I do have respect for bards and their education, alternative though it may be, I’ve always found that the finest among them keep quiet and let the music speak for itself, as opposed to all the endless pageantry. Oh well, he will learn in time.
Glade seems a charming and pleasant girl, a veritable asset among druids. Their lot doesn’t have it easy in any society save for their own, so I hope she finds her place in it. Druids by and large don’t tend to respect my art, however I find they are much less likely to attempt to oust or outright slay me for it then men of the cloth, and I have to give them some kudos for that.
Speaking of men of the cloth, Tayz was it in one, even down to the literally holier-than-thou moral grandstanding. Yes it was under dubious circumstances that this artefact came to be under Lady Miller’s control and the mechanism by which it would ‘take the widows pain away’ was shady at best but my goodness man, we were there to do a job! You always have the option of declining if you want, but you can’t expect others to go with you. I certainly wouldn’t.
Having known the pain of loss, I’m not sure I would be overly thrilled with having it taken from me. I’ve learnt from it and it has made me stronger than I could ever have been without, but quite frankly, not only is the situation that these women are in none of my business, it would be almost disrespectful for me to tell them how to deal with their grief. In my mind, I had no problem with getting to this strange, unstable bauble that promised them their wish. Or was it Lady Miller’s wish? Again, not my concern.
Not long after setting out in a carriage provided for us by Lady Miller’s estate, we encountered a strange phenomenon; animals that had clearly been magically electrocuted. I didn’t consider that we’d encounter wizard antics during our travels, but another chance encounter led us to an altogether more interesting possibility. We found a shambling mound, or rather, a paladin of Lliira who had been cursed to be a mound after losing her favour.
The gods giveth and taketh away to their hearts desire, even to those who make honest mistakes in discharging their duties, even to their most fervent followers. The paladin already suffers the burden of knowing he slew an innocent, why force him into a form so beneath him on top of that? The gods are capricious and uncaring, for how could eternal beings understand impermanent ones? How could the stars comprehend the earth? This is why we must separate entirely from them. Giving mortals without the gods’ favour the power to resurrect is but the first step.
The good sir mound gave us two facts. The first was that there were followers of Loviatar in the area. The priests at the chapel back home spoke of the Loviatans in hushed whispers. I remember that they were sadists who served a sadist god and certainly went against all that Ilmater stood for. Good then, that the mound wanted to get rid of them. I wonder if he’d leave me their corpses after?
The second was that we had a stowaway. A young girl of no more than nine in one of the barrels we were transporting. Cue panic. We were all very capable of defending ourselves, sure, but we seemed ill equipped for childcare. I eventually hatched a plan borne of my old days looking after the village’s children while their parents went to work the fields; pretend that something is far more fun and exciting than it actually is. Surprisingly, it seemed easy enough to convince her that hiding in a barrel when danger comes would be beneficial to her future career as an adventurer somehow. The conjured ‘magic sword’ that Lolli gave her certainly helped. Tayz reminded us that if the worst were to happen that he would be able to resurrect her and I was reminded at just how indulgent it is to be able to treat life like that.
I must work out how to do it, and soon.
We eventually made it to Port Ffirst, more specifically The Cavernous Seashank, a most deplorable tavern, where the item in question lay. Scanning the crate, which seemed far larger than it needed to be, revealed that it was an abjuration spell on the object. I am no fool however, and I’m very familiar with the ability to cloak an object’s magical aura. I even offered to on the way back but was refused, saying this would release the object’s effect early.
Given that Amble had offered to do so on the way here, for the journey back I had deigned not to prepare Mage Armour, instead opting for some other spells to handle our stowaway issue. Unfortunately Lolli took the charge with that instead, leading me to be covered in magical custard creams to this very moment. Not entirely unpleasant but it hardly fits the aesthetic, no? A whole host of guards and wards were cast, and we sallied forth. I took it upon myself to ride Belladonna, given that the size of the object meant some of us had to get out of the carriage.
About halfway back to Daring Heights, we were stopped. Surely this was it, surely the bandits had arrived and I’d finally have new material to work with!
No. Strange spirits in the guise of animals, but nary a humanoid to be found. Well, it seemed cleanup was in order.
Through our respective mediums we each painted a tapestry of carnage. Amble sliced at the minds of the creatures, Lolli slammed them with an assortment of elemental blasts and candy(?), Felix struck a chord of pure lightning on his lute, Tayz summoned celestial warriors and healed our wounds, and I, atop Belladonna, became as the wind.
I saw Felix attempt Inflict Wounds, a spell I am all too familiar with, to paltry effect, and I realised that I still had my role as an educator. The children must learn.
The pen stopped. Ruthenia sighed, swirling her wine glass around.
“I don’t care that he’s a dwarf and is in all likelihood older than me, Myrtle, they are all still children to me!”
Vampiric Touch seemed like the natural progression. It is not a spell I get to use often but riding Belladonna made getting into and out of range almost trivial. And it felt good. That kind of power is addictive, you know. No wonder some of my contemporaries fall off the track of study and into abject insanity. Riding a phantom horse, draining the life out of my foes, I may have almost resembled a spectre of death itself, were it not for my creamy biscuity exterior.
At some point even the good sir mound joined us and showed us what he could do. I gave him a bit of magical encouragement from one outcast to another and watched him smite away at the spirits with fervor.
Eventually it was done, and we were left… confused. The good sir mound was pretty certain that this had nothing to do with Loviatar, and I could easily tell that these spirits weren’t undead. What was it that these spirits wanted? Was it the box?
We returned to Daring Heights where Lady Miller graciously took the artefact off of our hands. We dropped the child off while we were at it, who was convinced we were the coolest beings alive despite not seeing any of the fight. I’m glad that she was impressionable enough that I didn’t have to hit her with a Suggestion.
I hope the artefact works as intended, but I can’t deny its suspicious nature. That will probably have to be for another day.
Considerations:
Combat situations are so much simpler when riding Belladonna. I must make sure that this is the case whenever possible.
I am still without new material. In future consider taking on missions that guarantee that bodies will be found
There are suspicious happenstances both in and outside of Daring Heights. Maybe I should help the good sir mound in his quest. I wonder if the Loviatans bury their dead?
Ruthenia gingerly lowered herself down into an armchair on the other side of the room, catching herself in the mirror on the wall.
The realisation hit her like a bolt; the confounded custard creams were still all over her! She raised a hand to cast a spell before remembering that she neglected to prepare Dispel Magic. Breathing a sigh, she clicked her fingers to summon an unseen servant as she leaned back and closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Myrtle, take down my diction- no, pour me some wine, then write this down…”
Adventuring keeps one in coin when one is otherwise jobless, and with the marked abundance of divine casters in this frontier land, that is where I find my current position. No bother, I have provided for myself suitable enough lodgings and my personal expenses are meager enough for me to save the majority for certain objects of interest. No, it is not necessarily the money that draws one to the call, but other materials.
And so this job seemed like the perfect setup; transport of a valuable object between two cities? Not only could one potentially find new bodies on the road, we could be set upon by my most favourite of peoples; bandits! Who would mourn them if they made the mistake of setting upon our carriage? And nobody would even accuse me that hard, I would even offer to bury them if my adventuring party was so inclined. It’s not like they’d remember where they lay, but I would.
Still, it didn’t help that my present company tended more towards ‘upstanding citizen’ than ‘cutthroat renegade’. Amble and Lolli were both my contemporaries in the studies of the arcane, however both took their magic in very different directions than mine, as most tend to. It took me a while to work out but it seemed that Amble was an enchanter, a user of the mental magics. Their utility I understand for sure, but I don’t think I’d ever met one that wasn’t downright sinister before now. He was well adjusted for all intents and purposes, a surprise to be sure.
Lolli reminded me of my younger self, save for all the hot pink and gumdrops, in all the best and worst ways. So cheerful, so full of positivity and life, yet so utterly, painfully, naive. Still, one must allow for the exuberance of youth, even if it comes dusted in sugar and wrapped in far too many bows. Truth be told, I know not of the societal tendencies of the harengon, but if Lolli is an exemplar of their spirit, then I must say that I almost envy them. Almost. I wish this young conjurer the best of luck and I hope she finds whatever it is she’s looking for. I also hope it doesn’t come at personal cost to her.
Felix is a bard. Need I say any more? Helpfully enough it was he that seemed to have the fewest moral qualms with the nature of what we were going to do. Whilst I do have respect for bards and their education, alternative though it may be, I’ve always found that the finest among them keep quiet and let the music speak for itself, as opposed to all the endless pageantry. Oh well, he will learn in time.
Glade seems a charming and pleasant girl, a veritable asset among druids. Their lot doesn’t have it easy in any society save for their own, so I hope she finds her place in it. Druids by and large don’t tend to respect my art, however I find they are much less likely to attempt to oust or outright slay me for it then men of the cloth, and I have to give them some kudos for that.
Speaking of men of the cloth, Tayz was it in one, even down to the literally holier-than-thou moral grandstanding. Yes it was under dubious circumstances that this artefact came to be under Lady Miller’s control and the mechanism by which it would ‘take the widows pain away’ was shady at best but my goodness man, we were there to do a job! You always have the option of declining if you want, but you can’t expect others to go with you. I certainly wouldn’t.
Having known the pain of loss, I’m not sure I would be overly thrilled with having it taken from me. I’ve learnt from it and it has made me stronger than I could ever have been without, but quite frankly, not only is the situation that these women are in none of my business, it would be almost disrespectful for me to tell them how to deal with their grief. In my mind, I had no problem with getting to this strange, unstable bauble that promised them their wish. Or was it Lady Miller’s wish? Again, not my concern.
Not long after setting out in a carriage provided for us by Lady Miller’s estate, we encountered a strange phenomenon; animals that had clearly been magically electrocuted. I didn’t consider that we’d encounter wizard antics during our travels, but another chance encounter led us to an altogether more interesting possibility. We found a shambling mound, or rather, a paladin of Lliira who had been cursed to be a mound after losing her favour.
The gods giveth and taketh away to their hearts desire, even to those who make honest mistakes in discharging their duties, even to their most fervent followers. The paladin already suffers the burden of knowing he slew an innocent, why force him into a form so beneath him on top of that? The gods are capricious and uncaring, for how could eternal beings understand impermanent ones? How could the stars comprehend the earth? This is why we must separate entirely from them. Giving mortals without the gods’ favour the power to resurrect is but the first step.
The good sir mound gave us two facts. The first was that there were followers of Loviatar in the area. The priests at the chapel back home spoke of the Loviatans in hushed whispers. I remember that they were sadists who served a sadist god and certainly went against all that Ilmater stood for. Good then, that the mound wanted to get rid of them. I wonder if he’d leave me their corpses after?
The second was that we had a stowaway. A young girl of no more than nine in one of the barrels we were transporting. Cue panic. We were all very capable of defending ourselves, sure, but we seemed ill equipped for childcare. I eventually hatched a plan borne of my old days looking after the village’s children while their parents went to work the fields; pretend that something is far more fun and exciting than it actually is. Surprisingly, it seemed easy enough to convince her that hiding in a barrel when danger comes would be beneficial to her future career as an adventurer somehow. The conjured ‘magic sword’ that Lolli gave her certainly helped. Tayz reminded us that if the worst were to happen that he would be able to resurrect her and I was reminded at just how indulgent it is to be able to treat life like that.
I must work out how to do it, and soon.
We eventually made it to Port Ffirst, more specifically The Cavernous Seashank, a most deplorable tavern, where the item in question lay. Scanning the crate, which seemed far larger than it needed to be, revealed that it was an abjuration spell on the object. I am no fool however, and I’m very familiar with the ability to cloak an object’s magical aura. I even offered to on the way back but was refused, saying this would release the object’s effect early.
Given that Amble had offered to do so on the way here, for the journey back I had deigned not to prepare Mage Armour, instead opting for some other spells to handle our stowaway issue. Unfortunately Lolli took the charge with that instead, leading me to be covered in magical custard creams to this very moment. Not entirely unpleasant but it hardly fits the aesthetic, no? A whole host of guards and wards were cast, and we sallied forth. I took it upon myself to ride Belladonna, given that the size of the object meant some of us had to get out of the carriage.
About halfway back to Daring Heights, we were stopped. Surely this was it, surely the bandits had arrived and I’d finally have new material to work with!
No. Strange spirits in the guise of animals, but nary a humanoid to be found. Well, it seemed cleanup was in order.
Through our respective mediums we each painted a tapestry of carnage. Amble sliced at the minds of the creatures, Lolli slammed them with an assortment of elemental blasts and candy(?), Felix struck a chord of pure lightning on his lute, Tayz summoned celestial warriors and healed our wounds, and I, atop Belladonna, became as the wind.
I saw Felix attempt Inflict Wounds, a spell I am all too familiar with, to paltry effect, and I realised that I still had my role as an educator. The children must learn.
The pen stopped. Ruthenia sighed, swirling her wine glass around.
“I don’t care that he’s a dwarf and is in all likelihood older than me, Myrtle, they are all still children to me!”
Vampiric Touch seemed like the natural progression. It is not a spell I get to use often but riding Belladonna made getting into and out of range almost trivial. And it felt good. That kind of power is addictive, you know. No wonder some of my contemporaries fall off the track of study and into abject insanity. Riding a phantom horse, draining the life out of my foes, I may have almost resembled a spectre of death itself, were it not for my creamy biscuity exterior.
At some point even the good sir mound joined us and showed us what he could do. I gave him a bit of magical encouragement from one outcast to another and watched him smite away at the spirits with fervor.
Eventually it was done, and we were left… confused. The good sir mound was pretty certain that this had nothing to do with Loviatar, and I could easily tell that these spirits weren’t undead. What was it that these spirits wanted? Was it the box?
We returned to Daring Heights where Lady Miller graciously took the artefact off of our hands. We dropped the child off while we were at it, who was convinced we were the coolest beings alive despite not seeing any of the fight. I’m glad that she was impressionable enough that I didn’t have to hit her with a Suggestion.
I hope the artefact works as intended, but I can’t deny its suspicious nature. That will probably have to be for another day.
Considerations:
Combat situations are so much simpler when riding Belladonna. I must make sure that this is the case whenever possible.
I am still without new material. In future consider taking on missions that guarantee that bodies will be found
There are suspicious happenstances both in and outside of Daring Heights. Maybe I should help the good sir mound in his quest. I wonder if the Loviatans bury their dead?
