Adventuring Requires Quality Time (VikingWitch & Breezi)

[VikingWitch]

To be a part of a guild is not so special, especially when you were just the bodies going out and doing the jobs that others would rather not. The adventurers knew this but if the gold was good and if they could get a few pints in the meantime, well, it would be worth it. This group was just doing a simple extermination job. Giant rats had taken up residence in a marshy village. Usually, the typical traps would work on them, but they were becoming wise and the infestation was too overwhelming to deal with, especially since a baby had been snatched from its crib. So they took the job, not their first and not their last.

The party rode on a near-deserted road, only a few other carts and horsemen past them on the way to their destination. Two people rode ahead of a gypsy wagon, one of them was a paladin, Finnian Ralle, decked in her silver armor and red cape with her family crest emblazoned in the center. She kept her long blonde hair out of her face in a tight braid. Her normally stern face was set in a calm expression, except for a blush that spread across her cheeks and nose. Behind them, the other women had the luxury of not getting aching thighs thanks to the gift that was given to the tiefling that drove the wagon.

They rode in the driver’s seat of the wagon, which was a trusty place of shelter and transportation. As if a succubus made flesh, the driver sat proud and bright, a quite striking sight, holding the reins with clawed hands to pull the two cart horses. Her skin was a bright red, her head was topped with wild, long, and dark waves of hair and ram horns that looped around her pointed ears. At the moment, she smiled and sang with a toothy smile, fangs on the top and bottom rows of her teeth. She also had her tail that she kept tucked behind her, but it waved excitedly as the two played around, though she was careful to keep the three bony spikes away from them both. The last prominent feature was her vivid green eyes that looked almost ethereal to look at. This was Absinthe Novrun, named after her strange eyes, and she took after her strange name in more ways than one.

Her passenger was a young faun woman who lazily played the violin next to her. She had shorter reddish brown hair, smaller horns that poked from her bouncy russet curls, and doe eyes that charmed most anyone. She tapped her cloven feet against the boards of the wagon with the song she was playing. The faun's lower half was covered in caramel-colored fur, and a short, tufted tail twitched and bounced behind her. This was Hollia Faurvus, a gifted bard who enjoyed playing and playing more than just her violin.

The two had been childhood friends, well, more like teenage friends. The two met in different gypsy caravans that soon met up and stuck together ever since. The two were a bit different from each other, Absinthe preferring the indulgences of the world, and Hollia just wanting to have fun and keep close to her friend. They met up with the two others a while ago, had it been a few months already? They couldn’t remember, but they enjoyed their company and they loved teasing their two serious party members when possible. Such as now as they sang a rather raunchy bar song, the wagon seeming to jingle in celebration with them.

“Saber had her lovers, they came in at every door.
You could even say that she was really quite a whore,
but when she needs some pleasing, she knows just where to go.
I grab my good friend Madam Rouge and we go down below!
And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai!
Twiddle ee ai dee ei!
It's often times a man will leave you broken with dismay!
And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai!
Twiddle ee ai dee ei!
There's other things to twiddle when the men have sailed away!”

The two couldn’t stop themselves from laughing, even as they rocked along the road. They continued to loudly sing and play, not minding the odd looks or the reprimanding glances from the two that led the way.

 

[Breezi]

Another passenger found himself thankful the party did not have to travel by foot, being perhaps the least suited to the outsider, adventurer's life. He was built for the wizard's tower, reading magical tomes and only leaving when he had a teleportation spell on hand to safely return from whatever quest went his way. But, alas, he was a novice, a mage with powerful magic but not the decades of experience needed to achieve a tower of his own. An education that bordered on the theoretical more than the practical, a mind that was often distracted by the possibilities rather than the reality of the situation, and a body that was trained for leisure more than it was for challenge.

Sitting next to Finnian was someone decidedly slighter, short for an elf perhaps, though not at all uncommon for a human. Light strawberry blond hair that dropped down, threatening to cover his rounded spectacles if he failed to brush it away. It framed a soft, rather feminine face with piercing yellow eyes, only marred by a slight scar on his lip. Like many elves, he had a lithe build, and he wore a noble's uniform, a blue coat with gold detailing on the arms and chest, white pants and brown boots. And his expression was one of a calm, pleasant smile as he read through his book, which read The History of Devilry by Horkind Veril. This was Lysanthir Verinas Martias Fenasti Highwater IV. He preferred just 'Lysanthir' or 'Lysanthir Highwater' if he had to use a more formal name.

He had made that first step into becoming an adventurer, even though it was not a simple task. The books made it seem easy, a hero destined for greatness had a call to action, a mentor to guide him, friends to rely on. And the reality was that instead he found himself amongst strangers, kind as they may be, with no mentor in sight beyond the words of his father and tens of teachers throughout his decades of study.

They were a good set of strangers, however, and he part of him thought they were nearly friends, though he still knew little of them in the months they traveled together. They knew each other's names, their general personality types, their appearances, digging in deeper, however, eluded him.

Then the two others began to sing a song and he bobbed his head along. Until he listened to the lyrics and his face turned a bright red. It was such a bawdy song to be singing at a time like this! It was not, however, as if he hadn't read any tomes of questionable material in his time. But to be singing such words on the road? Scandalous!

"C-Could you p-please stop... stop singing songs like that right now?" Lysanthir called out, his voice strained and somewhat deeper than one would expect considering his looks. What was most apparent about him was his tendency to stammer and stutter. It was something that he was working on, though when flustered or surprised it would come out more. "This... is hardly the time for something like-like that! You d-d-don't know who could hear us! We're on the road!"

 

[VikingWitch]

“So next time you’re with a lady
And she take you to her bed.
Be sure to treat her well
And remember what we’ve said!
For if you do not treat her right
And know that this is true
Us ladies all can have our fun
Without involving you!

And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai!
Twiddle ee ai dee ei!
It's often times a man will leave you broken with dismay!
And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai!
Twiddle ee ai dee ei!
There's other things to twiddle when the men have sailed away!”

They broke out into raucous laughter as they finally finished their song, and Finnian sighed in relief. “Honestly, do you two have to be so vulgar?!” she called over her shoulder.

Absinthe lightly tossed a scrap of bread at Finni’s head and snorted as it bounced off and onto the road. “Don’t be such a wet blanket,” Absinthe teased and munched on the bread that was left.

Hollia snorted next to her and started to idly saw at her violin, trying to find the next song that hopefully wouldn’t ruffle feathers this time. Absinthe turned her gaze to Lysanthir and her eyes narrowed in their wicked predatory way. “What’s so fascinating about that book, anyway?” she asked. “What sort of salacious knowledge could be so enticing?”

She giggled and stood up on the bench to try to get a better look, failing that she would cast a spell to look through his eyes. Out of everyone, Absinthe was the oldest and most likely the most powerful. At the age of twenty-five, she had been a witch for almost ten years, and as such, was more in tune with her magic and nature. Despite not knowing her patron’s full identity, she knew well enough what he stood for and what he would allow. Her being a little shit now and then was encouraged.

She peered through his eyes at the passage he lingered on and while it was an interesting read, she couldn’t help but note the subject. “Learning a bit more about your comrades, dearie?” she asked as the pupils came back into focus. “If you had questions, all you have to do is ask.”

She sat back down and lounged in such a way to emphasize her form. As she was, Absinthe was more accustomed to dressing in the nomad fashions of flashy, layered skirts and cropped tunics such as today. There was plenty of skin to view since it was a beautiful day and her clothes accentuated her form. She batted her eyelashes at him and giggled cooly at his embarrassment.

 

[Breezi]

Lysanthir opened his mouth to voice his objection but couldn't get out, merely letting a squeak leave his lips. She looked through his eyes without his permission! He should have been angrier at Absinthe, though his expression was more embarrassed than anything. Normally he would have snapped at someone using their magic to see through him. But for whatever reason, he couldn't stay angry at her. Maybe it was that he knew that she wasn't a threat. Much more likely was the fact she was a beautiful woman, he wasn't blind after all.

His eyes turned to the tiefling and he looked away again, his blush growing even brighter. He cleared his throat, pausing and thinking about what he would say next. It had to be something good. Some witty retort and some coherent denial of what she insinuated.

"N-no! That is not at all what-what I..." Lysanthir's voice cracked out, a wince followed. He spoke, he might as well commit to it. "I-I hope to never meet a full devil, I just figured it was good to-to know just in case. I should really learn the banishment spell so I could just send it b-back to its plane... but that's besides the point! I am n-not trying to... learn more about y-you. I would ask if I w-was..."

He almost melted into his seat, he knew he was digging himself deeper but he couldn't help but take the bait. He had to correct the record, it was in his nature to do so. "Y-you knew that was g-g-g-going to get a reaction out of me! That's unfair!"

 

[VikingWitch]

He was so cute when he got like this. It was practically an impulse at this point for Absinthe to poke and prod at their only male party member. He was so innocent and delicious. "It's hardly unfair if you continue to rise to the occasion, darling," Absinthe purred and placed her head in her hand as she looked on at him.

She let the subject drop and turned to the dhamphir. "Fin," she called. "How much longer?"

Finnian rolled her eyes and pulled out a map. She folded it over a few times and ran her finger along their trail. Her riding wasn't all that affected since she had perfect balance, a product of her vampire blood most likely "A few hours, perhaps," she said. "Most likely be there by early evening."

Absinthe groaned and leaned her back against the wagon. She looked up at the sky and the late afternoon sun. No clouds and a lovely breeze at their back, a perfect late summer day, and they were out to hunt rats. There were so many other things she would rather do: getting a frosty pint, swimming in a lake, or getting pampered by men, also lounging by the lake. Hollia only smirked and continued to play. "Any requests to pass the time?" she asked.

Hollia was usually the one to keep spirits high, and while her colorful friend was always up for fun, there was only so much the faun could do to keep her entertained. The others were more amenable to her tunes and jigs. Absinthe found more entertainment, making others squirm or rise, as it were.

Absinthe secured the reins around her wrists to steady the horses, and she closed her eyes to perhaps nap before reaching their destination. "How 'bout it, sweetheart?" Absinthe called to Lysanthir. "Since you were so keen on something else."

"He wasn't the only one," Finnian called back to them as she put away her map.

 

[Breezi]

Truth be told, even though she gave him a heart attack, there was a part of Lysanthir that liked Absinthe's attention. Perhaps it was because she showed any interest in him, as sad as that was. His social skills were poor, and his ability to talk to women was even more so, especially those flirting with him, seriously or not. And even then, perhaps he was reading into it too much but maybe she was being genuine. It was a nice thought, at the very least, and it comforted the elf. His eyes turned towards the tiefling, then they went straight to Hollia.

"D-do you have any folktales t-that were turned into songs? M-maybe something from where you grew up. I don't know much of what t-the-the-the common folk think." Lysanthir called out before rubbing the back of his head. "Don't choose a lewd one, you and Absinthe have h-had enough fun for today."

He flashed a smile in the direction of the tiefling, even though it wasn't much of a jab, he wanted to see her expression. Or more accurately, he just wanted to see more of her face. Or the rest of her.

He shook his head. He was an academic, he shouldn't think like that. But that nagging feeling hit him as always. What if she wasn't joking? He kept holding onto that thought. She was his teammate as of now, nothing more, maybe a friend if one stretched the definition enough. Finnian was probably closer to his friend at this point, just as serious as elves were trained to be. But Hollia was rather nice as well, even if she was prone to going along with whatever Absinthe did. Really, no one in the party was a bad time to be around.

Maybe they were his friends...

 

[VikingWitch]

Absinthe lifted her eyelids for a second to look at Lysanthir as he explained what he wanted. When his eyes fell on hers, she gave a smirk and winked at him before she settled back down. Hollia thoughtfully threaded the bow over the strings as she pondered what would be a song that they knew from their time in the nomad caravans. “Oh, I know!” she cried and fiddled a familiar tune to Absinthe’s ears. “I’ll need some help on this one.”

Absinthe rolled her eyes as she looked at her old friend. “You needed help on the last one,” she said. “You’re just determined that I don’t get my beauty rest.”

Hollia stuck out her tongue and played the tune again for Absinthe. The first verse and a few interspersed verses were in the Sylvan tongue, language of the fey, a language that only Absinthe knew. The rest was in common, so the tone was easy to follow. It was still an upbeat melody to keep spirits high, but the lyrics were more haunting than the last song.

“Come my love our world’s may part
The gods will guide us across the dark
Come with me and be mine my love
Stay and break my heart

From the shores through the ancient mist
You bear the mark of my faery kiss
Clear the way, I will take you home
To eternal bliss”

This song made it clear that Absinthe was still a talented singer. The other one had been a bar song, not necessary to sing well, but this one demanded a level of effort. With the additional language as well, it might’ve been difficult, but Absinthe handled it with ease.

“Far away from the land you knew
The dawn of day reaches out to you
Though it feels like a fairy tale
All of this is true

Run with me, have a look around
We built our life over sacred ground
Come my love, our world’s may part
We’ll be safe and sound.”

 

[Breezi]

The song enthralled the elf, his head swaying in tune with Absinthe's voice. The lyrics were beautiful, even a bit haunting and yet he could only focus on the tiefling's delightful singing voice. He couldn't help but let a smile appear on his face, a genuine one as he started to hum along with the tune. His tone, although not the worst, was clearly untrained. He was having a bit of fun, though he kept his voice down. He was much better at playing the violin than singing. It had been several decades, however, and it was not like he had one around.

He waited to respond, once he was certain that she was done, he began to clap his hands. "Brava, b-brava! Y-your voice w-w-was wonderful!" Lysanthir said, talking slow. He stuttered less, he thought at least. He could get used to music like this. He would have to ask for its name so that he could write it down and listen to it again. Perhaps even see if anyone else could compare to how Absinthe sang the melody. "S-see, I-I-I can do more than just complain... that was a lovely song."

He paused and then took out another book, his spellbook and flipped to a blank page. The good thing about a spellbook was that one would never use all of the pages, giving him plenty of blank space to write or draw whatever he wanted. His eyes glanced in the direction of Absinthe before he found his quill and began to flick his wrist. It was hard to tell what he was doing from that angle, the elf wanting to keep it private, though his blushing face and refusal to make eye contact might have given an onlooker some idea of what he was doing...