I've no preference one way or the other myself. I'm pretty sure I have a good grasp on Aranwen's current state regardless of knowledge she is not privy to  

Aranwen is aware of Kithran's past, as we did establish. In a sense it is something of a wish fulfillment on her part, and Aranwen knows it. Both a desire to make right the wrong caused by another Syl woman, and a desire for family. It's one of those things she'd never admit, because she knows the reality is that is not the case.

A personal perspective, a fantasy held in the mind of the individual that influences their actions and feelings. 

“Ara,” he growls, using the foreshortening of her name for the first time in this company, “give me the fore and I swear by Rrowl’s tooth and claw that nothing will stop me until we find her…” his narrow gaze flicks briefly to Garn, then, and back to Aranwen just as quickly and he amends… “THEM…” Still blocked by Gib’s shield, the Silver Cat’s features soften (if only a bit) from demanding to imploring. “Please, Khatun,” he growls, a fraction softer now, “I promised her… you know this…”

Aranwen looked back to Ch'dau, her face unreadable for a moment. Just a moment. Internally, she wanted to hold the front. Was it pride? Perhaps a little; it took no more than a second look inward to know why. But that moment passed, and her eyes softened around the edges as she nodded, "Of course," She managed a smile.

"While we certainly cannot afford to tarry long, rushing forward blindly will not serve anyone but the enemy," Gib offered

Aranwen felt her jaw clench. Every moment that passed was another which could be spent searching for her daughter and Davena. Not that she'd ever admit aloud to seeing herself in the place of Kithran's mother, especially not to Kithran. A Syl mother had failed her once already; Kithran had no need for a second.

"Allow me to implore the Battle Lord to give insight into potential traps in our path. We've already encountered one and been ambushed despite our best defenses. Let's not fail our companions by falling prey to more," Gib continued.

The sound reasoning tempered Aranwen's haste, and once more she relented, taking measured breaths and holding the fear back, "Yes, you are right, Gib," She nodded, "We can't afford to fail them. Especially not here. Please, do what you can."

As she walked to Gib to let Ch'dau forward, she added, "And Gib? Thank you."

“I fight with whatever I have, Aranwen,” the big cat answered, something that looked like I might be a smile tugging at the corners of his feline mouth. “This blade,” he continued, lifting the dagger Kith had gifted to him, “is a bit smaller than those I am accustomed to, and I prefer a pair when possible, but I have not seen my own blades in…” He offered an uncertain shrug, “…I do not know how long.

As to style; mine is not as graceful and elegant as I have seen in your kind,” Ch’dau offered with another chuffing chuckle. “I had a friend in the Wyverns who described it as… how did he say… ‘scream and leap,’ yes? They liked to put me at the front where I could tear holes in the enemy’s lines; cause panic and disorder, and diminish their numbers as best I could.” If it was possible for a kazari face to emote such things, the expression that flitted across the feline features in that moment might have been seen as disappointment or, perhaps, sadness. “It was a tactic that served us well until recently…”

As Ch'dau shared, Aranwen's eyes were drawn to his. She could see the flames in them sparking stronger as he talked of his ability in battle. A fire that burned strong in spite of the wounds he still had, strong enough to see him awaken fighting, though it faded a bit as his voice trailed off.

Aranwen gave a solemn nod. She didn't need to ask; that Ch'dau was the only one here of the 'us' he spoke of was enough for her to know, and she thought she recognized in him a familiar feeling. One that haunted her for the past thirty years.

"You did everything you could," she replied, her voice gentle as she lifted a hand to place upon Ch'dau's uninjured shoulder, "We can't ask of ourselves any more than that."

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

"The way you describe it, it sounds as though in battle I should weave the song in a way that leaves you room to maneuver and strike. Unrelenting, unpredictable," Aranwen mused, before she offered a smile, "Your reputation is definitely well earned, Ch'dau."

* * *

“Old bread and cheese for the lady, and a very large pair of trousers for the r-raw-r’kah? The best Sendria has to offer!”

Aranwen shook her head, "When last have you two eaten?" she asked, before she withdrew a few leaf folded parcels from her bag, a couple bearing dried meat and others dried fruit, and the water skin she had, "Here," she offered, "This should help for the moment."

“Our path is rather . . . terrifying. I am grateful for your offer to help us, and in turn would be happy to lend my assistance in your task,” Kithran had shared, "Anyway, Aranwen, I’ve only been here for a day or two, but I can point us in the direction of almost anything we might need in order to prepare. Any suggestions?”

"Tell me more of the owner of that estate. I presume it was they who brought forth the skeletons that were so prevalent there," Aranwen asked, "As to our own preparations, we should certainly see about getting a full meal. That assortment of food is suitable for the road, and will hold you over until we eat proper, but it will not sustain you through healing and the battles ahead," Aranwen observed, "On the topic of healing, we may need to see a cleric about our injuries, as well as pick up more medical supplies. If we can enlist the aid of a cleric for the upcoming battles, that would be even better. Devotees of Kith-Jora or Falloes might be our best options there."

Aranwen paused, "Two days?" she asked Kithran, before she considered, "It's unrelated to anything else, but if you've seen a mask or antique store, I'd like to know of those as well."

I would have loved to exchange notes with her... Get on the same pages, and then see what we could share in developing more of the would-become-bladesinger's small world in Megilindar Nost. What life there looks like, and other details that don't truly leave the keep but are still interesting to know

“Oh,” Kith jumped to her feet, “That’s me. I mean it's one of the names I . . . I’ll be right back. Don’t talk about me when I’m gone,”

Aranwen continued to watch her until she was out of sight, her eyes a bit distant, "She wears different personae like clothing as a seasoned performer, and her skills with her daggers are also no small feat," Aranwen mused, "And she is so young..." she paused, "Hmm, perhaps that is unfair. In my eyes, she appears as a child, but... I have no knowledge on how quickly a half-Syl grows," Aranwen gave a wry smile, "Probably too quickly."

Aranwen looked to Ch'dau, "I've a black cloak in my bag I wore while I was travelling," she considered, "I fear you'd find its size lacking, however. It's tailored to the shape of a Sylvari."

"Can you tell me more of yourself, Ch'dau?" she asked, "I fear you have me at a disadvantage if you already know of bladesingers, and if we are to find ourselves with blades ready side by side, I'd like to know of your blade's style. Or do you fight by claws?" 

In the worst ending, if they broke her mind, Aranwen may replace the woman in the last silver screen

There's a particularly chilling thought

She isn't oblivious to the danger, especially to herself given the enemy's tactics. But we've no searcher now, and her goal is to recover both Davena and Kithran. The only two options that seem to be visible are continue down the corridor, or turn back and try the other path.

Aranwen also remembers the spellcasting seeming to come from ahead. 

Aranwen's golden eyes were cold as the steel she wielded as she cut down the ghoul before her, ending her song with a sharp cry. She looked down at her left forearm and grimaced. But the lingering pain was soon forgotten.

At Garn's cry she turned, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the hall at the middle of the group. No ghoul, no Davena. 

No Kithran. 

The bladesinger lost her composure in that moment, her lips twisted in a soundless snarl, hardly paying attention to the blood dripping from her arm as she clenched her fingers white. She could have screamed. But she clenched her jaw. 

"Not. Again." 

Aranwen walked up to beside Cedric, motioning him to step back, before she brought the flat of her blade against both walls beside her, one then the other. Lastly she considered the floor, blade pointed down and quivering in her hand. But she stepped back. 

Taking a breath, Aranwen turned, looking down the passage once more, forcing herself to calm her breathing. She kept her sword drawn.

"We move," she told the others, "No point in trying to hide our movements now. We will catch up with them. Be ready to fight."

Not this time. Not if I can help it. 

Yet as Aranwen steeled herself once more, she heard a chilling voice from a distant memory echo forward through time, Always looking forward, like good wooden soldiers lined up in a child's toy army. Never do you look at what you want to protect.

"I couldn't see," she grit her teeth, muttering under her breath, "This doesn't count."

Hmm... 

I think it's time to break things

That's going to hit Aranwen hard... I can actually feel her fury.

Any sounds of footsteps echoing through the corridor? 

"I'm Midge's third cousin once removed on his mother's side, and his first cousin twice removed."

I seem to be remembering Dravnor does hold a temple/grove for Kith-Jora due to the architect of the city being a devotee of his. That would be something Aranwen would point to as a possible location to receive healing. Perhaps convince an acolyte to roam with us briefly... Or at least be closer by  

Things that she can see we need:

• Medical supplies 


• Food


• Perhaps some healing as by a cleric

As you've seen, I've been substituting conventional recovery and healing with taking time to treat injuries via medical satchel. Aranwen only had traveling supplies, which she spread as best she could between Ch'dau and Kithran; she's not exactly hiding the injuries she's received from the skeletons she fought the other day, but she does still have them

As to delays, don't worry about it. We've been going at a very rapid clip so far, but RL happens. Can't be helped  

... I'd play a half-SylZari

But I'm very partial to kitsune-like species sooooo... no surprise there

Pass the lines to me. I do colour for some other things  

Just picturing a young Aranwen with a black lace dress, veil, and eyeshadow...

 or more like trying to, I just keep seeing Saeriel objecting at how silly Aranwen looks and convincing her that she just can't pull the look off

So is Aranwen the singer, or the conductor?

PS you can't hide the gold in the heart there Kithran

"Kithran! Oh no... I told you to stay behind, not try to flank. I know you're a rogue but..."

Wide, rapid swinging can't hurt any ally

The sight of the giggling ghoul normally would be a sight to be afraid. But here, now, Aranwen's fear faded away to certainty. The enemy was visible. She could do something about it. 

"Behind me, Kithran!" Aranwen called at the sight of the giggling ghoul, taking front and center while drawing her blade. 

Hearing Ch'dau behind them, she swore under her breath - cut off. Not ideal. 

And then darkness. Another giggle. A scream.

Aranwen gripped the hilt of her blade tighter, her knuckles white with anger. 

"Focus!" she called, "Recall the hall in your mind - feel the slope! Cedric, face down the slope and step to your right. Garn, turn up the slope and stay to your right - help Davena! Gib, Ch'dau, keep the back ghoul from us. Get ready to move."

Aranwen focused; she listened for the giggling specifically in front of her. Then she swung, giving voice to a wordless song that scaled higher and lower as she swung from left to right, right to left. She advanced forward as she swung, a step at a time. 

(( Aranwen will try to push the ghoul back with wide swings as she advances. If she's successful, she'll call the party to advance with her to push them out of the darkness)) 

Just goth "teen" Sylvari

Aranwen perusing Kithran's closet with a bemused smile  "Wow, this brings back memories. Looks like my wardrobe in my dark 50s phase. Ah, some things don't change, do they? Kithran is growing up well."

Kithran is tall for a half-Sylvari 

Aranwen is a bit short for a Sylvari 

They're about the same size as a result. Wouldn't be surprised if they could exchange clothing. More reason why she initially assumed Kithran was Sylvari

"I'd give you my cloak, but I fear you'd find its size lacking."

Aranwen was wearing a black cloak, which she put in her bag after discovering imminent combat, buuuut wrong sizes 

... you are playing in that world