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

[clawings]

Shaking his head, Erik crosses his arms over his chest. "What the fuck are y'all fightin' about anyways? Other than hygiene. The whole fuckin' trip y'all been at it like teenagers who just started fuckin' other people."

...Yep. Sure did say that.

lol forever love you Erik

[muckspout]

Well, Edgard does not like that.

"What's it to you?" He huffs.

"I suggest asking the dick over there." Edgard picks up one of the spare ointments on the shelf and chucks it at Benedict.

[altusimperius]

"Ew," is all Benedict intones, shooting a glance Erik's way. How crass.

He's in the middle of reacting when the ointment bottle hits him in the head, resulting in a hiss of dismay as he clutches at the spot where it impacted.

"Edgard!"

I aim to please and entertain

[clawings]

"I've had to put up with y'all the whole fuckin' way out here, I feel like I'm owed some information."

He doesn't care if it's crass, clearly. Was he wrong?

The bottle bounces off of Benedict's head and Erik sighs loudly through his nose before bending over to pick it up. "Do y'all need to fight or what?"

[muckspout]

Rather than answer Erik's question--what a busybody! Edgard grabs another bottle and chucks it at Erik's head.

"Want to be clean so bad? Here!" He grumps. He chucks a bar of soap at Benedict for good measure.

[altusimperius]

"UGH."

As the soap thunks into his shoulder, Benedict stands abruptly with a look of disgust. Without another word to either of them, he storms away to sit somewhere else and continue his routine.

[clawings]

Erik catches the bottle thrown at his head, thank you very much, and watches Benedict storm out.

"Piss off our only healer, sounds like a great idea Edgard."

[muckspout]

"He was already angry." Edgard grumps. "Got him out though, didn't I?"

He gestures broadly with his hands.

"All yours now."

[clawings]

Erik snorts; he didn't need the room, but whatever.

"Seriously though, why the fuck are y'all fightin'?"

[muckspout]

Edgard shrugs and folds his arms.

"He lied. Then lied about lying. and then he was a dick."

And that's the whole story, Erik.

[clawings]

Yeah, sure it is. Erik raises a single eyebrow before he sighs, and shrugs. "Guess asking you what he lied about would be a step too far, huh? What are you gonna do if they don't wanna let you into the party?"

Because Erik suspects that is a real threat, honestly. Not in the 'threat to one's safety' kind of way but in the 'rich people are dicks and don't like obviously poor people' kind of way.

[muckspout]

Edgard doesn't answer the question about Benedict. He rolls his eyes a little and shrugs at the second.

"Do all of us need to be at the party? Would I be a lot of help even if I was clean?"

Edgard knows why he's here and it's not on behalf of diplomacy.

[clawings]

"Yeah probably not." To both of those questions, honestly. "What're you gonna do instead?"

[muckspout]

Edgard shrugs.

"If I can't get in, I'll just--take care of our things while everyone is gone. It will be fine. It's all yours now."

He gives Erik a nod and then walks out the door.