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]

Asking Jone to complain? That's the way to her heart, it is. She grins. "Our glorious employers don't pay in real money, take bloody everybody, and don't bloody train them."

Yes, she is in charge of training Forces recruits. She's mostly complaining about dear Ben.

"Patrons mostly think 'cos I'm working for 'em we're due for a shag, think they know how to do my job, and the fucking dogs."

[clawings]

"Whaddya mean they don't pay in real money?" This is the first Erik is hearing about anything like that. Does she just mean that they don't pay enough, because he has suspicions in that regard.

Poor Bene though. He does seem a little ill-suited for... All of this. Except for the partying part, he's got that down.

"You ain't a dog person? What about cats?"

[poleaxed]

"They pay in suplimented wages. Enough to make you feel good. The real pay's in room and board, which is fine enough if you like living in a crowded bloody tower, eating whatever slop the kitchens serve up."

It sounds like she doesn't.

"I like horses," Jone clarifies, not pointing out the irony of a Fereldan in a dog mask who doesn't like dogs. It's all about image, okay. "I like animals that put a little effort in."

[clawings]

"Ahhh." Has Erik minded the closeness? Not much, not exactly, and there's a blessing to be found, in his mind, of not having to decide what to eat. But it's gonna be different for everybody and Jone knows what the fuck she's doing here.

Erik? Doesn't always.

"Yeah that's fair." Horses have a lot of personality and do work, so, he can see it. "Never had pets, personally. Never rode a horse before coming here neither."

[poleaxed]

"Good beasts," she says, thinking of Gabranth and his lack of experience. "They got horses where you're from?"

[clawings]

"They do, yeah, but it's either where people ain't got much else, or where they don't want for anythin'." Erik weighs his hands. "Wasn't really somethin' I was exposed to."

[poleaxed]

"Hmm," Jone murmurs, stalling because she isn't entirely sure what he means, due to her own lack of imagination.

"You caught up, didn't you? Not like you need to use a battle horse. Any old nag will carry you from place to place."

[clawings]

"Yeah 'cuz I'm stubborn and don't like to lose at anything." Not that not learning to ride a horse would've meant he lost something in particular, but it was a goal and he crushed it. Good job him.

"Swords, also different. Like I can use 'em. But they ain't what I learned first, yanno?" He shrugs. "I plan on fuckin' thrivin' here, if I can. That means learning a lot of new shit."

[poleaxed]

Jone nods in slow approval. "I've a friend in similar straits to you," she says, "good to see it can be done. And, you ought to know, I'm tasked with helping train recruits. If you've a need of it, I'm by the training ground most every day. A sword ain't right for every bloke with two hands."

She taps the poleaxe at her side, a long, cruel weapon with several points of sharpness, to illustrate her point.