CLOSED | the perfect stormrider.

[poleaxed]

WHO: Erik Stephens, Gabranth, Diana, Benedict, Edgard, Tiffany, Dick & Jone.
WHAT: The Gang Fights A Dragon.
WHEN: Cloudreach.
WHERE: The Thenuviet estate on the Exalted Planes.
NOTES: if something looks wonky or is misspelled, please know I’m typing this on mobile & have mercy.

GETTING THERE isn’t a short journey, and they’re hardly traveling in comfort. Most of the horses are carrying equipment, armor, weaponry, and anything else those volunteered for this expedition thought to include. And there’s camping equiptment. Anyone who said the travel overland involved staying at inns was lying. Inns are notoriously stuffed with murderers, anyway.

Every night, there’s a campfire and food. Sometimes it’s fresh caught, but if it is, Jone certainly didn’t catch it. Just as likely that it’s rations, salt pork and jerky and whatever dried fruits and nuts Riftwatch can spare.

There’s a STOP AT A BATHHOUSE in the town near the Thenuviet estate, however. It’s stupid, they’re just going to dirty themselves up later, but presentation is important to these people.

Surely all of you brought fancy dress and masks, because IT’S TIME TO SCHMOOZE. There’s a small party of Orlesians dressed to their finest, having a cozy little soirée on the edge of a cliff. Literally on the edge. Don’t indulge too much in the fine wines and cheeses, because there’s a dragon waiting, but for now? It’s never a bad idea to look good in front of rich people of influence. At least, not these days.

Eventually, it’s time to move forward, which means PREPARING FOR BATTLE. Climbing down the cliff is easy stuff, if you’re good with rope or have basic upper body strength. But now is probably the time to set up any traps, get in good positions... because it’s not long before the party on the cliff above begins to cheer.

...Because a few dead swine are unceremoniously kicked off the cliff to fall into the ravine now filled with you and yours.

The cheers from the cliff face only increase as loud thrashing, howling sounds start and become increasingly closer. How long have they been feeding the dragon like this?

But then it’s DRAGON KILLING TIME. You probably know how that goes. Stormriders are huge, dark scaled, and shoot thunder instead of fire. This one is angry you’ve interrupted lunch time.

AFTERWARD, it’s time to heal, take a breath, poke around the dragon bits for fancy heirlooms, and climb back up that cliff.

Comments

[poleaxed]

"Mm, he is," Jone says, maybe a little too quickly. "His whole world is like that, proper knights and all. Try and be your best for him, and you won't lose him."

And then she pokes his shoulder, a bit hard. "And when you can't be your best, explain why and sodding apologize. Nobody's perfect, but the real twats are the ones who hurt folk without a thought."

[altusimperius]

"Ow," he breathes, clapping a hand to the spot to rub where she poked him, "I know."
There's a bit of a sulk lingering there in the set of his brow, but it's still too soon after his dressing-down for a proper attitude.

"I'll try."

[poleaxed]

"That's a good lad," she says, feeling as though she may be giving him too much credit, but... there's only so much she can do for a person, and Benedict's well past the point of being a child. If she ever thought about it, she'd be angry-- why does he get so many second chances when she never got any?

But that's the way of it, so she endures. And it's easier, when people smile and laugh. "Thank you for coming on this trip with us, lad," she says, "even if you didn't want to."

[altusimperius]

If ever she were to voice that anger, she might find that he feels similarly; there's a source for all the guilt suddenly welling in him, and a not insignificant amount of it can be chalked up to that lag.

"I'm glad I did," he says quietly, relaxing again, "...I'm glad you asked me." At the moment, all he wants to do is go smoke himself into a blissful sleep, but there's a long foot journey ahead of them and that's not going to happen anytime soon.
"...it's nice to get out of the Gallows, sometimes."

[poleaxed]

She laughs. "Remember that, next time you're scared. That it were good. That everybody lived. That's me big advice, one fighter to another."

[altusimperius]

Bene nods, smiling a bit more in response to Jone's laugh. It's a good feeling, and it's begun to seep a little deeper into the anxiety gripping him.

He's silent for a few moments, as they walk. But then, with trepidation, "...can I ask a favor?"

[poleaxed]

"You can try," Jone says, voice sly. She thinks better of it almost immediately. "I'll do what I can, but I haven't much influence, truly."

[altusimperius]

He laughs weakly; it's hardly anything so lofty.

"Can you just..." He's speaking entirely to his shoes at this point, "...can you hug me again?"

[poleaxed]

Jone grabs him, hands around his chest, and uses considerable strength to spin him around as she holds him near in a bone crushing embrace. It's meant to be the most embarrassing thing possible; he can take it.

[altusimperius]

It's funny, and a little alarming, so he laughs again; but he also reciprocates, putting his arms around Jone's back with a grip as needy and childlike as... well, as he feels.
Far from embarrassed, Benedict feels a wash of relief and gratitude as he rests his head against Jone's shoulder. It's amazing, the difference a little physical touch can make.

[poleaxed]

Which is of course when she drops him, expecting his coltish legs to keep him up. She's much better at affection, true affection, when she's not thinking about it. Anything else requires a grandiose display to put lie to the truth hidden within it.

"Odd bird, you are," Jone says, dusting herself off a little. A smile is still stuck on her face. "But who bloody isn't, these days."

[altusimperius]

"Sorry." Bene's own smile is lopsided, belying the weight that's been lifted from his mind, however temporarily (he'll manage to ruminate himself back into a hole later, but that's his problem to solve).

"..thanks."

He keeps walking, knowing she won't want to linger on it any further than that.