WHO: Tony Stark, Joselyn Smythe, Richard Dickerson, Wysteria Poppell, Vanadi de Vadarta WHAT: A group of nerds and one cool elf investigate some strange reports coming out of a Free Marches village. WHEN: Second week of August. WHERE: Free Marches NOTES: TBA.
Vanadi does hear those murmurs — easily mistaken for greeting and organizational whispers, if not for the undercurrent of tension he catches from even here. And then of course, to cement it, the unsettling smell that creeps alongside those whispers. Something is here.
A glance over his shoulder is enough to tell him this is nothing he wants anyone sleeping through. He sinks to a crouch next to the nearest sleeping form, reaching easily through the darkness to shake a shoulder — Wysteria's, and Tony's shortly after.
His whisper is the first thing to greet them, low but steady: "Quietly, quietly. We have company."
In half sleeping reply, Wysteria draws tighter into her blanket and bedroll. She buries her face, groggy stubborn, into the crooked of her elbow and mumbles some sound that must mean 'Five minutes more, Mr. de Vadarta' even if it doesn't say so with as many words.
But it's a child's impulse, and she has been with Riftwatch long enough now to be familiar with being gently shaken awake in tents, and so doesn't survive past the few fumbling moments it takes for her to translate the meaning of his greeting. She uncurls, blinking slowly up at his shape in the dark. The loose sleeping plait of her hair is coming undone and it makes her seem even more disordered than is characteristic.
“Not so much as I'd like to volunteer to do it,” which doesn't sound promising. She's a mage in her forties after the war, so she can't be helpless—but there's a vast, vast wasteland in between 'helpless' and 'the person you want fighting a two-headed wolf'. A jerk of her staff, and a hissed, “All this does is smack.”
That isn't fair; there's also a blade on the end of it.
Bough traded from right hand to left, Richard reaches behind his back to ease out the longer dagger he’d lent her previously. No sudden movements, no trace of fear past the chatter of an adrenaline shiver through his teeth.
He presses his luck with a step forward around the fire, keeping the pronged end of his barely-burning branch elevated as a warning between them. Colorful sparks and all.
Tony is slow to rouse under Vanadi's hand, twisting away with an arm slung over his face in grim reluctance at the concept of consciousness. Faint lyrium light, spilling out from the collar of his shirt, and the queasy pulse of his own anchor shard gives off green from one slack hand.
Give him a second.
With the status remaining quo for a few more moments, ears pointed towards the sounds of Joselyn and Richard conspiring, the wolf/wolves roam closer. There is a lurching limp to this stride, but all limbs operate in concert with one another. Another leaf-rustling breeze, another waft of plant rot and gore. It comes closer to that extended burning bough, and the more upright of the two heads stretches its neck to sniff at smoke.
Then, one of its ears swivels around in the direction of Vanadi crouching with Wysteria and Tony.
Movement. The upright head suddenly twists away from Richard and lurches in that direction, while the second drooping head suddenly snaps upwards, mouth yawning wide open, and closing around the bough, flames and all, giving a vicious yank to rip it from Richard's grasp. The momentum of the beast is confused, conflicted, but possibly not for long. The upright head gives a loud barking snarl.
The snarl is enough for him. The two sleepers should be awake enough by now, and Vanadi hasn't the time to be helping anyone to their feet with such a monstrosity at his back. He whirls around to face it instead, his rapier drawing with a whisper of metal.
"Up," he hisses, probably a little uselessly. No one in their right mind rolls back to sleep with a two-headed wolf come to visit. He stands protectively before Wysteria and Tony, blade leveled at the thing and stance defensive.
Wysteria sits abruptly upright, and for a moment gets no further than that - freezing at the sight of slavering creature illuminated by the fire with a certain blank lack of comprehension. And then she is moving, kicking away her blankets and reaching for the shield kept among her belongings.
There's a knife there too - somewhere. In the kit itself, perhaps? Or folded in under a change of clothes? Still in one of her boots? She rummages to find it—
no subject
A glance over his shoulder is enough to tell him this is nothing he wants anyone sleeping through. He sinks to a crouch next to the nearest sleeping form, reaching easily through the darkness to shake a shoulder — Wysteria's, and Tony's shortly after.
His whisper is the first thing to greet them, low but steady: "Quietly, quietly. We have company."
no subject
But it's a child's impulse, and she has been with Riftwatch long enough now to be familiar with being gently shaken awake in tents, and so doesn't survive past the few fumbling moments it takes for her to translate the meaning of his greeting. She uncurls, blinking slowly up at his shape in the dark. The loose sleeping plait of her hair is coming undone and it makes her seem even more disordered than is characteristic.
"Who is it?"
no subject
“Not so much as I'd like to volunteer to do it,” which doesn't sound promising. She's a mage in her forties after the war, so she can't be helpless—but there's a vast, vast wasteland in between 'helpless' and 'the person you want fighting a two-headed wolf'. A jerk of her staff, and a hissed, “All this does is smack.”
That isn't fair; there's also a blade on the end of it.
no subject
Bough traded from right hand to left, Richard reaches behind his back to ease out the longer dagger he’d lent her previously. No sudden movements, no trace of fear past the chatter of an adrenaline shiver through his teeth.
He presses his luck with a step forward around the fire, keeping the pronged end of his barely-burning branch elevated as a warning between them. Colorful sparks and all.
“See if you can raise Vanadi’s crystal.”
no subject
Give him a second.
With the status remaining quo for a few more moments, ears pointed towards the sounds of Joselyn and Richard conspiring, the wolf/wolves roam closer. There is a lurching limp to this stride, but all limbs operate in concert with one another. Another leaf-rustling breeze, another waft of plant rot and gore. It comes closer to that extended burning bough, and the more upright of the two heads stretches its neck to sniff at smoke.
Then, one of its ears swivels around in the direction of Vanadi crouching with Wysteria and Tony.
Movement. The upright head suddenly twists away from Richard and lurches in that direction, while the second drooping head suddenly snaps upwards, mouth yawning wide open, and closing around the bough, flames and all, giving a vicious yank to rip it from Richard's grasp. The momentum of the beast is confused, conflicted, but possibly not for long. The upright head gives a loud barking snarl.
Loud enough that Tony jerks fully awake.
no subject
"Up," he hisses, probably a little uselessly. No one in their right mind rolls back to sleep with a two-headed wolf come to visit. He stands protectively before Wysteria and Tony, blade leveled at the thing and stance defensive.
no subject
There's a knife there too - somewhere. In the kit itself, perhaps? Or folded in under a change of clothes? Still in one of her boots? She rummages to find it—