A sensation like the kind Willow felt in her visions washed over her, but this time there was nothing to see. Instead, there was just a tickling sensation over her synapses as she finished the rest of the drink. Curie dutifully took the cup from her and flew it back to her wagon. Properly settled she floated back over to the Allomancer.
“Definitely the bugwood,” confirmed Curie, “I infuse the syrup with the bark. Bugwood comes from the edge of the Forest of Vengeance, it’s said the trees are from a time older than time itself! But who’s to say? The only person older than time is the Father.”
Another distant screech cut the silence of the ruffed woodlands, and Curie spun. The construct looked to be concentrating, before she whirled again, “You know. I could send a message from Dyrnwyn. That would buy me time. Then I could see this stand off with the Foreman! My curiosity hasn’t steered me wrong so far.”
Curie wiggled with a peppery sense of anticipation, “And, maybe I do want to save the world, a little.”
[The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“That’s great! Who doesn’t wanna save the world from time to time!” Willow said with a lackadaisy cheer, before thinking to herself, “Next just need to figure a way to get the contraband moved over without arousing suspicions. That’d just make things awkward.”
Planting a hand on her hip, Willow pointed with exaggerated motions down the slope toward the busted cart. “Jus’ down this’a’way. Follow me.”
Losing track of how many times she’d gone back and forth at this point, the Brit began to saunter down the road toward where she’d left her gaggle of attachés. She found herself actually huffing a bit, much to her chagrin. That two week long nap really took it out of her; or possibly it was the race across the city earlier that day coupled with getting punched in the chest by a golem. Nope, definitely the nap, although her ribs were still mighty tender.
Planting a hand on her hip, Willow pointed with exaggerated motions down the slope toward the busted cart. “Jus’ down this’a’way. Follow me.”
Losing track of how many times she’d gone back and forth at this point, the Brit began to saunter down the road toward where she’d left her gaggle of attachés. She found herself actually huffing a bit, much to her chagrin. That two week long nap really took it out of her; or possibly it was the race across the city earlier that day coupled with getting punched in the chest by a golem. Nope, definitely the nap, although her ribs were still mighty tender.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
The sundered cart still sat where it was in the clearing with Willow’s cohorts idling in varying levels of despondence. Helen shivered next to her cart, her glowing eyes staring into the middle distance with no sense of guidance. The sergeant and the berserker were sitting at opposite ends of the road, with various bruises and a couple of cuts. Bjorn stood above them all, wiping his blade on the tarp covering the cargo.
“Oh thank the Captain,” sighed Phyllis in relief, looking in Willow’s way.
“Hello!” greeted Curie, her enthusiasm draining at the sight of the others, “Willow told me you all might need–...”
“DELIVERANCE!” roared Ghyslain, ambling under Helen’s cart and hoisting it above his head with unnatural strength. He wobbled over and immediately emptied the contents of Helen’s cart into Curies with no ceremony whatsoever. Lumber and a glint of hope went tumbling into whatever free spaces remained in the construct’s wagon. Curie dove into her transport as soon as the lumber settled.
Bjorn, flung into the air, glided down with his wounded wing on to Willow’s shoulder.
“DELIVERANCE!” repeated Ghyslain, his job done, before bodily throwing Helen’s carts into the woods. It didn’t make it far, catching on a couple of trees and shattering.
“DELIVERANCE!” chanted the berseker, throwing his arms up into the air.
Helen, who had struggled to get her words out before, was now stricken dumb, her stony fingers reaching out to where her precious cart had been, to where it was, to where it currently lay. She looked at the pile of timbers that was her mode of transportation, before looking back at Willow, then Ghyslain, and then back at the pile.
“Good news!” announced Curie, bubbly as ever, “Nothing I own has been irreversibly damaged! What luck!”
“Oh thank the Captain,” sighed Phyllis in relief, looking in Willow’s way.
“Hello!” greeted Curie, her enthusiasm draining at the sight of the others, “Willow told me you all might need–...”
“DELIVERANCE!” roared Ghyslain, ambling under Helen’s cart and hoisting it above his head with unnatural strength. He wobbled over and immediately emptied the contents of Helen’s cart into Curies with no ceremony whatsoever. Lumber and a glint of hope went tumbling into whatever free spaces remained in the construct’s wagon. Curie dove into her transport as soon as the lumber settled.
Bjorn, flung into the air, glided down with his wounded wing on to Willow’s shoulder.
“DELIVERANCE!” repeated Ghyslain, his job done, before bodily throwing Helen’s carts into the woods. It didn’t make it far, catching on a couple of trees and shattering.
“DELIVERANCE!” chanted the berseker, throwing his arms up into the air.
Helen, who had struggled to get her words out before, was now stricken dumb, her stony fingers reaching out to where her precious cart had been, to where it was, to where it currently lay. She looked at the pile of timbers that was her mode of transportation, before looking back at Willow, then Ghyslain, and then back at the pile.
“Good news!” announced Curie, bubbly as ever, “Nothing I own has been irreversibly damaged! What luck!”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
The Brit stood dumbfounded at the display, half-heartedly gesturing one way then the other as she determined what to do. At a loss beyond giving Ghyslain a light round of applause, Willow eventually cleared her throat before speaking.
“Y’all, uh, this is Curie. Curie these are m’ traveling companions. Everyone, Curie has agreed to help us out… thankfully, otherwise this would somehow have been even more awkward,” Willow’s tone sounded uneven, as she was still getting used to this group’s dynamic. She took a few steps of to Helen and patted the golem on the head. “I’ll… uh… get you a new one. Just tell Clever that Metal-Eater sent ya.”
Moving up the hill a bit to the front of the pack, she turned to address the group.
“’Kay! We’re all squared here, so let’s get this show rolling. Lotta ground to cover still. Ghyslain! Over here,” Willow had focused herself, and her call to the berserker was followed by her pointing to the spot beside her; not unlike trying to get a dog to heel. “Oh, and Curie, Ah don’ ‘spose ya have a length of rope?”
“Y’all, uh, this is Curie. Curie these are m’ traveling companions. Everyone, Curie has agreed to help us out… thankfully, otherwise this would somehow have been even more awkward,” Willow’s tone sounded uneven, as she was still getting used to this group’s dynamic. She took a few steps of to Helen and patted the golem on the head. “I’ll… uh… get you a new one. Just tell Clever that Metal-Eater sent ya.”
Moving up the hill a bit to the front of the pack, she turned to address the group.
“’Kay! We’re all squared here, so let’s get this show rolling. Lotta ground to cover still. Ghyslain! Over here,” Willow had focused herself, and her call to the berserker was followed by her pointing to the spot beside her; not unlike trying to get a dog to heel. “Oh, and Curie, Ah don’ ‘spose ya have a length of rope?”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Ghyslain, not one to distrust Willow, yet, came over as beckoned and stood patiently at where she had requested. After that short period of exertion, the berseker seemed sated in his pursuits and proceeded to whisper to himself.
“All paths lead to the same place,” he said, murmuring, “the clown waits for her gift far away.”
“Wow! Your friends are unique,” was the nicest thing Curie could say about Willow’s entourage, “and I do have rope, but I am super cautious in handing it over to you.”
The construct stared at her, before diving into her cart and fishing out a length of rope. Her little aperture arms carried one end snaking out of the wagon, “But, what’s the worse that could happen? You can’t tie me up. So here you go!”
Helen, still a little shell-shocked at the loss of most of her worldly possessions, was struggling her way up into Curie’s cart, if not just to sit. Phyllis, feeling sympathetic for the smuggler for once, hoisted the golem up onto the bench. The pitbull hybrid carried herself to the fore with Willow, still nursing fresh bruises, looking as tired as Willow felt.
“All paths lead to the same place,” he said, murmuring, “the clown waits for her gift far away.”
“Wow! Your friends are unique,” was the nicest thing Curie could say about Willow’s entourage, “and I do have rope, but I am super cautious in handing it over to you.”
The construct stared at her, before diving into her cart and fishing out a length of rope. Her little aperture arms carried one end snaking out of the wagon, “But, what’s the worse that could happen? You can’t tie me up. So here you go!”
Helen, still a little shell-shocked at the loss of most of her worldly possessions, was struggling her way up into Curie’s cart, if not just to sit. Phyllis, feeling sympathetic for the smuggler for once, hoisted the golem up onto the bench. The pitbull hybrid carried herself to the fore with Willow, still nursing fresh bruises, looking as tired as Willow felt.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Nothing to worry about with the rope,” Willow proclaimed, but in such a way that either Curie or Ghyslain could think she was speaking to them. Taking the coil of rope, she carefully tied a lasso knot into it just as Miss Smith had demonstrated during her first month of ranch work. Satisfied, she tightened the coil before briefly searching on her belt for a clasp to fix it to. Sure enough, there was one right where she’d hoped one would be, almost as though she’d had this outfit for ages. “When Smart fixed me up with this ensemble, she neglected to also provide me with a shiny Wonder Woman lasso. Been wanting to get my hands on one for a hot minute. Add it to my tab.”
Once she was sure everyone was situated, Willow beckoned Bjorn to her shoulder once more before starting up the road, hopefully for the last time this afternoon. With her off hand she massaged her ribs and rolled her shoulders, showing a wince that hopefully none but Bjorn could see. She’d gone and done it again. Overconfidence coupled with a bad call made her think she could go toe to toe with a large sized golem wraith without her Pewter. Just like throwing herself at a tree. Just like rushing Drysi when she was possessed and almost dying in a dreamscape. No, those last two were simply overconfidence. Both had been to save Drysi, and she wasn’t going to consider those bad calls; no matter what injuries she walked away with.
Lifting her hand from her ribs, Willow reached into one of her pouches and withdrew one of her Pewter nuggets. With a stolid look she examined the lump of metal while turning it over in her palm. Pewter, more than the other metals she’d discovered, made her feel like a hero. It let her get impaled without flinching so she could go and haymaker an eldritch abomination. Everything she needed to be Willow Metal-Eater was encapsulated in the palm of her hand. Right? She didn’t want to read into Pewter being the metal that let her burn the brightest, also being the metal that burnt out the fastest.
The leather of Willow’s glove creaked as she gripped the nugget tightly. Dismissing any shadows of doubt from her face, if not her mind, she raised her hand and plopped the Pewter into her mouth and swallowed. She welcomed the familiar well of heat that blossomed in her stomach as her Pewter reserve filled up. Starting the burn, she kept it as low as she could manage. Just enough to dispel some of her fatigue and take the edge off her bruised ribs. A nugget of that size would probably net her a few hours at minimal burn, a couple minutes at mid-line burn, and possibly even twenty seconds of Flare. Taking a deep breath, she bumped her fists together as she nodded to herself.
“Are we there yet?” Willow sighed with tone full of mirth .
Once she was sure everyone was situated, Willow beckoned Bjorn to her shoulder once more before starting up the road, hopefully for the last time this afternoon. With her off hand she massaged her ribs and rolled her shoulders, showing a wince that hopefully none but Bjorn could see. She’d gone and done it again. Overconfidence coupled with a bad call made her think she could go toe to toe with a large sized golem wraith without her Pewter. Just like throwing herself at a tree. Just like rushing Drysi when she was possessed and almost dying in a dreamscape. No, those last two were simply overconfidence. Both had been to save Drysi, and she wasn’t going to consider those bad calls; no matter what injuries she walked away with.
Lifting her hand from her ribs, Willow reached into one of her pouches and withdrew one of her Pewter nuggets. With a stolid look she examined the lump of metal while turning it over in her palm. Pewter, more than the other metals she’d discovered, made her feel like a hero. It let her get impaled without flinching so she could go and haymaker an eldritch abomination. Everything she needed to be Willow Metal-Eater was encapsulated in the palm of her hand. Right? She didn’t want to read into Pewter being the metal that let her burn the brightest, also being the metal that burnt out the fastest.
The leather of Willow’s glove creaked as she gripped the nugget tightly. Dismissing any shadows of doubt from her face, if not her mind, she raised her hand and plopped the Pewter into her mouth and swallowed. She welcomed the familiar well of heat that blossomed in her stomach as her Pewter reserve filled up. Starting the burn, she kept it as low as she could manage. Just enough to dispel some of her fatigue and take the edge off her bruised ribs. A nugget of that size would probably net her a few hours at minimal burn, a couple minutes at mid-line burn, and possibly even twenty seconds of Flare. Taking a deep breath, she bumped her fists together as she nodded to herself.
“Are we there yet?” Willow sighed with tone full of mirth .
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Phyllis opened her mouth to speak, but Curie chirped before the words could form.
“Only if you feel like giving up!” she answered cheerily, bouncing over a sullen Helen. The two bounced together on the bench, though Curie didn’t need to, and only Curie seemed to speak in their conversations. The rest fanned themselves out with Ghyslain trailing behind Willow and Phyllis watching the rear. Like this, they were formidable, even with the wraiths screaming in the distance.
The troupe marched on, as trees became thinner and rocks became higher. Slowly, but surely they began to see more quarrids. The locals would work and watch the cart go by, but never felt drawn enough from their tasks or lives to say anything. Each small hamlet of stone or village of rock seemed to be preparing for something. Some would be building walls, some would be forging metalworks, others spinning cloth, a few mending roads, and many repairing homes.
“This is a land that lives in the shadow of Vengeance,” explained Bjorn, watching a pair of quarrid children play a game that looked more like more work, “There are no absolutes in the Land of Dreams and Mist, except that the wraith’s forest is always attached to the land of the Yormundyaws.”
Occasionally there would be a patrol of quarrids, laden in heavy metal that would stop them, ask their purpose, see the berserker, and go on their way. As they rose higher and higher into the mountains, the towns became more sparse, and the patrols more frequent. Travelers and merchants like them were rarer and rarer.
Then, as they rose over another hill, cresting another tiring rise, they found a small town at the base of a sheer wall. The rise was like a citadel, resting at the base of the peak, but watching over the settlement. Busy citizens had little time for them, but a couple having lunch on a bench just off the main gate pointed them along to the Hall of Dyrnwyn, the home of Diligence.
“The Grand Foreman is taking guests, but he is busy!” said one of the quarrids on break as they started back, “The hall is open to serving anyone passing through.”
The architecture of the quarrids was practical, but precise. There were rarely ornamental touches carved into the stone or wood, but when it was, it was pristine. Despite their rough and rowdy nature, the quarrids were pathologically focused, either on tasks or small details. Willow could see this in the gate to the hall, which was likely the most ornate of all the things she had seen so far. The doors depicted a young woman shrouded in a cloak and wielding a mighty, fiery sword.
A brighter glow within, growing more inviting as the sun began to settle in the sky, invited the group into the hall. Inside, tall pillars of stone supported a high ceiling in a cavernous room, wide and glamorous in size alone. Among the walls were more carved in buildings with streets at their bases, running veins of life through the deeper parts of the mountain. In the center a few yards ahead was a large, open space with tables and a menagerie of different smallfolk eating, drinking and conversing. Despite the quarrid’s insistence on work, this area was raised and central to this entryway, a place of loud merry-making.
“Oh! I could destroy a meat pie right about now,” Curie chimed aloud.
“We dinnae’ have time for pasties--,” started Phyllis, before the audible sound of her stomach forced her silence. Her reddened face slowly dipped towards the floor, “--... We’ve important things tae do…”
“Is that a Gordalisk?” asked Bjorn, leveling his gaze with Willow’s. Tracing his eyes, she could see the same kind of creature that had emerged from the waters to snap at her in Jotungard weeks ago, lounging near one of the benches. It was sleeping, rather peacefully, next to a group of smallfolk laughing and drinking. Among them was one of the few spriggans Willow could recognize in this world. He wore an unmistakably familiar hood and green, leafy cloak.
On his back was a satchel, with a small, manila folder jutting out under the flap.
“Only if you feel like giving up!” she answered cheerily, bouncing over a sullen Helen. The two bounced together on the bench, though Curie didn’t need to, and only Curie seemed to speak in their conversations. The rest fanned themselves out with Ghyslain trailing behind Willow and Phyllis watching the rear. Like this, they were formidable, even with the wraiths screaming in the distance.
The troupe marched on, as trees became thinner and rocks became higher. Slowly, but surely they began to see more quarrids. The locals would work and watch the cart go by, but never felt drawn enough from their tasks or lives to say anything. Each small hamlet of stone or village of rock seemed to be preparing for something. Some would be building walls, some would be forging metalworks, others spinning cloth, a few mending roads, and many repairing homes.
“This is a land that lives in the shadow of Vengeance,” explained Bjorn, watching a pair of quarrid children play a game that looked more like more work, “There are no absolutes in the Land of Dreams and Mist, except that the wraith’s forest is always attached to the land of the Yormundyaws.”
Occasionally there would be a patrol of quarrids, laden in heavy metal that would stop them, ask their purpose, see the berserker, and go on their way. As they rose higher and higher into the mountains, the towns became more sparse, and the patrols more frequent. Travelers and merchants like them were rarer and rarer.
Then, as they rose over another hill, cresting another tiring rise, they found a small town at the base of a sheer wall. The rise was like a citadel, resting at the base of the peak, but watching over the settlement. Busy citizens had little time for them, but a couple having lunch on a bench just off the main gate pointed them along to the Hall of Dyrnwyn, the home of Diligence.
“The Grand Foreman is taking guests, but he is busy!” said one of the quarrids on break as they started back, “The hall is open to serving anyone passing through.”
The architecture of the quarrids was practical, but precise. There were rarely ornamental touches carved into the stone or wood, but when it was, it was pristine. Despite their rough and rowdy nature, the quarrids were pathologically focused, either on tasks or small details. Willow could see this in the gate to the hall, which was likely the most ornate of all the things she had seen so far. The doors depicted a young woman shrouded in a cloak and wielding a mighty, fiery sword.
A brighter glow within, growing more inviting as the sun began to settle in the sky, invited the group into the hall. Inside, tall pillars of stone supported a high ceiling in a cavernous room, wide and glamorous in size alone. Among the walls were more carved in buildings with streets at their bases, running veins of life through the deeper parts of the mountain. In the center a few yards ahead was a large, open space with tables and a menagerie of different smallfolk eating, drinking and conversing. Despite the quarrid’s insistence on work, this area was raised and central to this entryway, a place of loud merry-making.
“Oh! I could destroy a meat pie right about now,” Curie chimed aloud.
“We dinnae’ have time for pasties--,” started Phyllis, before the audible sound of her stomach forced her silence. Her reddened face slowly dipped towards the floor, “--... We’ve important things tae do…”
“Is that a Gordalisk?” asked Bjorn, leveling his gaze with Willow’s. Tracing his eyes, she could see the same kind of creature that had emerged from the waters to snap at her in Jotungard weeks ago, lounging near one of the benches. It was sleeping, rather peacefully, next to a group of smallfolk laughing and drinking. Among them was one of the few spriggans Willow could recognize in this world. He wore an unmistakably familiar hood and green, leafy cloak.
On his back was a satchel, with a small, manila folder jutting out under the flap.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Willow knew just what Curie was saying. If memory served, she had consciously eaten a single square meal since getting to these lands; plus a cabbage. The smell of wafting food made her stomach growl with carnivorous intent, but her attention snapped away from the smell of food at the mention of the gordalisk. Finding the creature, she immediately looked for… yes, there they were. The spriggan responsible for drawing her away from her one day off and its morning cup of tea. The spriggan responsible for drawing her into a mess that she had no business getting tangled in. The spriggan responsible for stealing something precious from Manon.
“Phyllis, cover me and make sure that spriggan in the cloak doesn’t get away. Ghyslain… don’t kill anyone, I don’t want this negotiation starting off on a bad foot; well, worse foot, seeing as I’m a human about to accost a guest in a Lord’s hall. Fun times,” Willow said to the others as she withdrew the coiled rope from her hip. Unspooling it with her back to to the spriggan to make sure none of them saw or suspected anything, she eventually spun, burned what she had left of Pewter to help guide her aim, and loosed the lasso at the cloaked spriggan.
“I name you Thief, little varmint, and I’ll be taking back what you stole from my room,” Willow announced, making it clear to the spriggan and the other witnesses nearby, that she was executing a lawful action.
“Phyllis, cover me and make sure that spriggan in the cloak doesn’t get away. Ghyslain… don’t kill anyone, I don’t want this negotiation starting off on a bad foot; well, worse foot, seeing as I’m a human about to accost a guest in a Lord’s hall. Fun times,” Willow said to the others as she withdrew the coiled rope from her hip. Unspooling it with her back to to the spriggan to make sure none of them saw or suspected anything, she eventually spun, burned what she had left of Pewter to help guide her aim, and loosed the lasso at the cloaked spriggan.
“I name you Thief, little varmint, and I’ll be taking back what you stole from my room,” Willow announced, making it clear to the spriggan and the other witnesses nearby, that she was executing a lawful action.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
A warping noise of rope flying died in the sounds of merry voices cheerily speaking back and forth. Then, when Willow’s lasso caught, she heard noisome cursing bring an end to the merriment. Her target rolled, kicked and rattled loudly.
“Oi oi oi! Who’s the farkin’--,” roared the Spriggan as other smallkin came to their feet around him, or gawked from their benches, “-- Pazura! Help me out, stop loafin’ about and help me.”
The gordalisk snapped up from its resting pose, and met the situation with a degree of confusion. Its intelligence was limited, and it appeared to lack the cognitive ability to grasp what it needed to do. Willow’s target began pointing fiercely at the rope. Slowly, but surely, the beast seemed to be coming to a realization of what it should do.
Before it could seize upon the taut rope with its teeth, a blur of armor and orange hair surged forth. Like a dog on the kill, Phyllis dove onto the spriggan right as Pazura bit into the rope. Then, weighted down, but still agile, she returned to Willow’s feet.
“Farkin’ – Hell! My back! Argh! Lemme go you bitch! I’ve got no–...” the Spriggan slid to a stop under Willow’s gaze, and the recognition on his wooden face was palpable, his glowing eyes growing in a way that strained his firm, wooden face, “--oh–, no. No no no.”
A few quarrids rose from the tables, as well as a pair of golems with whirring maces. Pazura padded forth like a bulldozer with teeth, but Phyllis picked up her polearm to hold the creature off. Ghyslain hobbled forward, deterring only the bravest and most foolish with his gaze.
“Tallkin,” growled the biggest of the quarrids, a broad, bearded lavaling, “you’ve got some steel in your gut to come rousing trouble in the Hall of Diligence, with a dog of the fop at your feet. You better have a reason, and a good one for offending the peace.”
“Can we please go anywhere without getting into trouble?” shrieked Helen finally from the wagon.
“Oi oi oi! Who’s the farkin’--,” roared the Spriggan as other smallkin came to their feet around him, or gawked from their benches, “-- Pazura! Help me out, stop loafin’ about and help me.”
The gordalisk snapped up from its resting pose, and met the situation with a degree of confusion. Its intelligence was limited, and it appeared to lack the cognitive ability to grasp what it needed to do. Willow’s target began pointing fiercely at the rope. Slowly, but surely, the beast seemed to be coming to a realization of what it should do.
Before it could seize upon the taut rope with its teeth, a blur of armor and orange hair surged forth. Like a dog on the kill, Phyllis dove onto the spriggan right as Pazura bit into the rope. Then, weighted down, but still agile, she returned to Willow’s feet.
“Farkin’ – Hell! My back! Argh! Lemme go you bitch! I’ve got no–...” the Spriggan slid to a stop under Willow’s gaze, and the recognition on his wooden face was palpable, his glowing eyes growing in a way that strained his firm, wooden face, “--oh–, no. No no no.”
A few quarrids rose from the tables, as well as a pair of golems with whirring maces. Pazura padded forth like a bulldozer with teeth, but Phyllis picked up her polearm to hold the creature off. Ghyslain hobbled forward, deterring only the bravest and most foolish with his gaze.
“Tallkin,” growled the biggest of the quarrids, a broad, bearded lavaling, “you’ve got some steel in your gut to come rousing trouble in the Hall of Diligence, with a dog of the fop at your feet. You better have a reason, and a good one for offending the peace.”
“Can we please go anywhere without getting into trouble?” shrieked Helen finally from the wagon.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Pewter, actually, no Steel at the moment,” Willow answered with a wry smile as she bent down and picked up the spriggan. She, for probably the first time, found herself wishing she had some Zinc to burn as it would make this next part even more fun. Making do, she flared Brass and Soothed suspicion, aggression, and whatever the opposite of inspired might be. Hoisting the spriggan high by its restraint, Willow pivoted and stomped her metal capped boot against the stone in a percussive call to attention. Coattails fluttering behind her as she turned she set her eyes onto the large quarrid and stared him down. While she wasn’t in the wrong here, she was sure, she still felt that for these next few moments to go smoothly she would need to convince this big quarrid; the rest would fall into line.
“I am Willow Metal-Eater! Word-bearer, and envoy for the Artisans as well as the Lord of all these lands!” Willow roared. Her words belted out with every ounce of authority and certainty she possessed. “I have come to this Hall to speak with Diligence on official matters, and each and every companion with me bears my protection! As for offending the peace, I do genuinely apologize, but this spriggan offended my peace a fortnight ago when it broke into my home and stole from my guest. I am exacting lawful retribution by taking back what was stolen and turning this spriggan and its companion into this land’s authority. Do not interfere if you don’t intend to assist me.”
Perhaps it was the new clothes, but she felt good right now. Exuding confidence and determination, the Brit stared down the quarrids and waited to see how they would respond. Actually, yeah, it was definitely the clothes. If she tried doing this in pug pajamas there was zero chance this would work.
“I am Willow Metal-Eater! Word-bearer, and envoy for the Artisans as well as the Lord of all these lands!” Willow roared. Her words belted out with every ounce of authority and certainty she possessed. “I have come to this Hall to speak with Diligence on official matters, and each and every companion with me bears my protection! As for offending the peace, I do genuinely apologize, but this spriggan offended my peace a fortnight ago when it broke into my home and stole from my guest. I am exacting lawful retribution by taking back what was stolen and turning this spriggan and its companion into this land’s authority. Do not interfere if you don’t intend to assist me.”
Perhaps it was the new clothes, but she felt good right now. Exuding confidence and determination, the Brit stared down the quarrids and waited to see how they would respond. Actually, yeah, it was definitely the clothes. If she tried doing this in pug pajamas there was zero chance this would work.