Kitty cudds!

Aaaaand Kith has converted. That sounds. Bad ass. Praise Rrowl.

FWIW: Kith meant the hells of Adedre's pandemonium, and maybe a little bit of life in general, but not the literal hells.

P.S. Good morning back!

If the show is as perfect as that man's gravely ass voice, I am ready!

Haha, in all honesty, I hope it does well! Visually it looks incredible, just hoping the writing and pacing align.

See you December 20th!

Then Kith is is about to re-find religion lol

Unsurprisingly, Kith doesn't have much to offer in these situations.

Mosic narrowed his eyes at the thief, "I would very much appreciate that not happening again," He noted, "We who follow the Right Hand carry little that isn't for the benefit of others less fortunate than ourselves."

"I shall try my best, priest, as I have been unfortunately blessed with good fortune."

"If you will use my full name," the bladesinger began, pulling Kith's attention back to the woman in front of her, "I won't do that again," she offered.

“Agreed, Aranwen,” Kithran nodded at the bladesinger’s request, and watched as she revealed her new and old wounds to their cleric. The half-Syl couldn’t help but be impressed with her. She didn’t know many Sylvari, but she knew that they could live lifetimes and more on any human or half-Sylvari, and she wondered just how many this one had behind her. Were they all the life of a bladesinger, or did they vary until she landed there? The woman could have been around Kithran’s age, if not a few years older, or have centuries on her, and yet here they all were.

The name bit was interesting. Kithran also preferred her full name out of strangers, but she would take a “Kith” over a touch any day. Perhaps their lines were drawn for similar reasons. Perhaps “Ara” was too much of a reminder of something she’d had that she had lost in one of those past lifetimes, that she did not want or was not ready to receive from anyone else.

Of course, someone touching Kithran unwantedly was also a sign that that someone needed to be stabbed, so that was probably a little different from the bladesinger’s name thing.

"That cloak... Is that yours?"

“What? Oh, no,” Kith replied as the Falloes cleric took her out of her reverie, “No, the Kazari is using the one I usually use, since it is quite large and offers him some form of discretion.” She holds out one of the sides of the cloak and strokes it, “This is actually Aranwen’s, though I may need to hold on to it. I think it looks rather nice on me. Don't you think so, Ar . . . .” Kithran stops, looking back at the Sylvari who had once more fallen into her pained, fragile air.

Mosic nodded solemnly, "I think I understand, I am sorry for your loss."

Kithran’s eyes flit back and forth from the suddenly solemn Mosic to the stoic bladesinger, unable to hide the concern on her face as the formidable woman began to break down in front of her. She took a step toward her, “Aranwen?”

Mosic looked to the confused thief and Kazari, "That cloak... I wasn't sure until I saw it closer in better light, but I've seen its like before," He offered as an explanation, "As a priest, how could I have not? The pattern stitched into the fabric marks it a cloak worn by a Syl in mourning."

Mosic gently placed a small hand on Aranwen's arm, "This is, indeed, a deep wound that will not heal easily."

“Oh . . . no,” realization hit her and her fingers fumbled as she tugged at the cloak’s knots, but she managed after a moment, yanking it off of her. She crouched before the bladesinger and placed it on her lap, “I am sorry I insisted, Aranwen. I . . . I apologize for persuading you to lend me your . . . this cloak. But,” she took a moment trying to find her words before this woman shedding herself before them, knowing that her voice would sound more filled with cold than the warmth she wish she knew how to offer, “I cannot go into the hells before us carrying your ghosts on my shoulders. I won’t do that to you, regardless of how naked I feel without a cloak.” She stood then and stepped away, allowing the others to offer the comfort she was not capable of giving.

I am generally proud of my puns, in fact I have a "Sun's Out, Puns Out" shirt I love ^____^ sometimes I just really scrape though lol

Working on a response post and now I can fill in some blanks since we're back online!

Eol: yes, it was that very bad pun I could not stop myself from using. I am still ashamed.

Reralae: warn a woman before you punch her in the emotions like that. Oh man, Kithran and I are in a predicament after that. Excellent post, and I again just want to hug Ara *huuugs*

Thanks! Hope you noms were tasty! I just mowed down on some burgers myself. I am a happy, full kibibi.

And it was a fairly recent interaction she had had with one of the Kith-jora flock after she had insulted them. In response, after all of her slights against them, one of them made one harmless "Kith" turn-of-phrase joke after she had endured years of them because of her name's similarity to their god, and in her irritation she just stabbed him a little bit. Like, just a tiny amount.

She of course is not allowed to go back.

Sorryyyyy, she'll love Ara somedaaaay *poke poke*.

Today is just not that day *stab stab*.

"Dear Adaron,” Aranwen breathed in the wake of Ch’dau’s fascinating story, “I was curious of the story of the Silver Cat we had heard about in Megilindor Nost, but never would I have guessed you hail from beyond the Titan's Walk . . . “

Have I heard of this Silver Cat before? Kith wondered from her post at the door. The Wyverns had never served any purpose for her, and so, like the bladesingers, she had never given their news any mind. And people were always wont to embellish anyway, so even if she had heard of a massive cat-man among their ranks, she could see herself rolling her eyes at the story and continuing on her way.

“. . . as long as I am here,” the Kazari was now saying, “I have hopes of seeing Capasha, again; though, unless the same strange magicks claim me, once more, I know not how that might happen.”

“I know of an evil tome filled with some strange magicks,” Kith winked at the cat-beast, “Perhaps there will be some hope for you in there.”

“Fascinating,” Mosic said, too enthralled with Ch’dau’s tale to give any notice to the shady thief, “I thank you for sharing your story with me, Ch’dau.”

“Mm,” the kazari grunted in reply, offering a nod of his shaggy head, “It is not one that I tell often, little Mosic.”

The Cidal completed his work by placing a tiny hand on the massive Kazari’s chest, repeating his chant quietly, and ushering in a golden glow that washed over his body. It had been a while since Kithran had seen such a blessing--since she had lightly stabbed that Kith-jora acolyte, in fact. The cleric-types never seemed to enjoy her company for very long, despite how much coin she happened to find to give them.

"That sees to our silver furred friend's injuries,” the tiny one said as he completed his work, “but what of your wounds?"

"I don't have any; none that require attention anyhow,” the bladesinger returned, “Few bruises and cuts from last even that have more or less healed."

Mosic looked skeptical. "I can generally get a sense for when someone is in need or in pain,” he smiled gently, “and you seem to be in a lot more pain than you show. Are you sure there is nothing that can be done for you?"

"I... I don't know," Aranwen confessed and Kith rolled her eyes at her back. Such hesitation from such a fierce warrior. It was the second time in one morning that haze of weary enigmatic energy surrounded the Sylvari, and she sighed silently to herself. All that matters is her ability to accomplish my--our---task, she reminded herself.

The Cid glanced at Kithran, then, and raised a brow; “And what of you, young miss?”

Kithran pushed herself off the door, waving the others away so that she could sit near the priest and present her arm. Through the slashing in the material there, Mosic could spot the awkward bandage work Kithran had managed on her own in the cellar, as well as the spots of blood still seeping through, “This is probably the worst of it, but,” she points to the clear dark finger marks around her neck, “I am rather sore in this bit as well. And my side hurts from when a large cat-beast tackled me through a two-story window.”

Her eyes danced, watching the priest’s silent reaction before helping her roll up her sleeve, “I may have been able to sense the need in you three as soon as you walked into the inn, but,” he shook his head, disrupting those two ponytails, “to such a degree, I could not imagine.”

“Back out while you still can,” Kith teased with a grin before wincing as his needle pierced her skin, “or join us, in the next of our unimaginable follies. We are obviously in need of some assistance, none of which includes someone unable to keep themselves together in the face of a couple . . . monsters.” Her eyes flit very briefly to the golden-eyed Sylvari’s before wincing once more at the needle and trying not to jerk her arm away from his small hands.

“As I have told you, I go where the Right Hand leads me,” he says determinedly, focusing on the last of the stitching before tying it off, “I will not fail you because I will not fail Him.”

Kithran smiled sweetly despite herself, until he suddenly moved to touch her neck and her side. Her reflexive jolt did not go unnoticed.

Aranwen offered her a gentle smile, "I know of your aversion to touch, so I know it is not easy. But it is not a Syl's touch, at least. Come on, you might not be nearing complete collapse as Ch'dau was, but you will still need your strength."

Kithran’s attempt not to glare at the woman trying to help her while the Cidal once again pressed his hands to her resulted in a strange mixture of expressions that felt strange even on her face, and she tried to focus on something she had at least some modicum of control over.

“Stealth, priest,” she said, looking up and away from him and the others, “will be vital in our mission. You are small of course, so that should help, but your cape is rather, ostentatious, to say the least. Do you need it or can we stash it for now?” The blessing began to wash over her, and with the pain and discomfort of some of her injuries, so went a slight portion of her anxiety, “I can likely find another for you if you need one, though you may not approve of my means.”

Mosic chuckled and felt relief as he sensed the half-Syl relax just a little with the healing, “I may doff the cape for now, Kithran.” he sat back, “Have you any other concerns about my abilities while we are here?”

“Your abilities, no,” she jumped up next to Aranwen and bounced for a moment, tilting her neck from side to side before landing and twisting at her waist, “I feel much better, thank you. I do have some more questions, but I will let you take care of our mighty bladesinger first.”

"Now Kithran,” Aranwen said in reply, turning to the thief, “give the good priest back his medallion," she poked the bouncing thief in the side quite suddenly and Kithran nearly hopped back into the wall at the feeling, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were making a game of what I can see in my periphery."

Kith did glare at the Syl this time, though a smile played at the corner of her mouth. She took a step forward so that she was in front of her accuser, “First of all, Ara, please do not do that again. Second of all,” and now her grin widened much too fully, “you are right, Syl. Incredible,” she turned to the Cidal, handing him back his medallion, “She really is too good at this, but I’ll get her. And,” she shrugged, “I am sorry, I suppose.”

She gestured to the bed beside Mosic, “Go on now Ara, you stoic, golden-eyed, terror. Even gods need a little assistance sometimes.” And I need you in perfect form for my--our--task ahead.

I'll go!

First I have to get out of this massive cozy bed, BUT ONCE I DO, then I'm going to eat breakfast, BUT AFTER THAT, I'm gonna go to the dog cafe and get coffee, BUT WHILE I'M THERE, I'll write

Morning friendos!

When I first read Mosic's reaction to seeing Ch'dau finally I was like, "psh, Kith would tell that dude to calm down" and then I read Kith's reaction and it was perfect lol nice job!

I think I will hold off for now--he's asking Ch'dau about his past, I gave you Kithy's concerns, so atm all I have is some of her thoughts about what's going on and I'm sure everyone can guess what those are haha so yeah, I'll wait.

Sidenote: the pre-prequel part I'm working on is at 10 gd pages right now, so I'm suuuuuuper trying to trim it down. It's not even the sads part. That'll be the next part. This is basically just adventures time. You know, establishing characters that probably nothing bad will ever happen to ever, and because they'll be fine forever it def won't turn kid Kith from a super cuddly, trusting, trouble-maker into a don't-you-ever-fucking-touch-me, stabby-stab, trouble-maker. Good times.

"What are they doing?!"

Kith: *siiiiiiiigh* keep up, losers *pew pew pew*

That's why every Kith needs an Ara

That s t r a t e g yyyyy

Other than 5e, 3.5 is the only other der und der system I've played IRL, so I don't mind switching to that. I will say that when Olan gave me Kith's stats, he let me switch some of her points around as I saw fit, and then I sent him my revisions and haven't gotten anything back since. I'd just need to get that all from him first, so lemme know if yous wanna go forward with converting to 3.5!

And yeah, those answers are all fine with me, just stuff Kithy would have on her mind when recruiting someone for their mission. I don't imagine clerics are ever very stealthy, she'd be a little irritated with that, but what can ya dooooo?

And again, probably no post from me today, but I'll be able to check back for PMs throughout the night!

They just catch everything!

I saw your PM earlier Eol, and there are some q's Kith would want to ask that I was going to send you. I'm pretty busy today so I probably won't be writing much, but Kith would want to know, as the convo lead that way, about his thoughts and experience with the undead, if he had a means to deal with them, his combat prowess in general, if he could be sneaky sneaky, if he'd want any kind of reward for dealing with Adedre, if he had heard of her, and she may try to steal something from him to see if he'd catch her, but of COURSE would give it back . . . When Ara caught her.

Sorry if that's a lot! Haha you can add or cut adds you see fit. I trust ya!

"If I tell you, you will go find your parents then, won't you?" Aranwen coaxes the persistent little girl and Kithran notices she’s already nearly out of quail eggs. She still has her nut bread and pears, but the quail eggs are the best part.

Saina looked upset by the terms of the strange compromise Aranwen offered, but conceded, "O-kaaaay"

"Aranwen," she said, and Kithran swiped one of the ignored, cooling eggs off of the Bladesinger’s plate, grinning to herself as she popped it into her mouth.

"Aran- Aran- uhhhh Aran-" the girl attempted before giving up, "Can I just call you Ara?" she asked, and Kithran could understand. Very small children often had trouble with the middle of her name which tended to result in them calling her “Kitten” instead, much to her dismay. She glared at Ch’dau for a moment as he munched on the pile of meatballs.

"Yay! I'm Saina! Call me Sai! I'll be off now, Ara!" Kith waved the girl off without looking up from her plate and continued in her devouring.

"I-I'm sorry about that," the Syl woman offered and Kith waved her off too.

“Not to worry, Ara,” she grinned, before finally looking up from her plate. Her smile slipped as she regarded the Bladesinger. She couldn’t discern what it was other than a small shift in the air about her, and if it didn’t affect her ability to help them slay a slitch, it shouldn’t matter. And yet . . . .

Aranwen continued to share the conversation she’d had with the Falloes priest before returning to picking at her meal and Kithran suddenly regretted taking that egg. However, she was delighted that she wouldn’t have to hear another “Kith” joke from another Kith-jora clergyman. The last one to bother her, she flat out told the man she did not care for his god. To which one of his flock responded, “You cannot Kith-run away forever.”

She had stabbed him very little and yet still they banished her from their temple. Not that she cared about their temple, it was just warm.

“Are you unwell, Aranwen?” Ch’dau broke her concentration, and she looked from the large Kazari in the cloak, to the distracted Syl.

"It's just a ghost," she offers in her poetic way, "Something of the past I thought I left behind. Names I never thought I'd hear again, even if they're not the same," Kithran takes a mouthful of her remaining nut bread just as Aranwen looks back at her, lingering longer than Kith knows what to do with, so she looks away and continues chewing.

"I must remember that I am not in the past," she says, and Kithran is finding she has taken much too large a bite, "Forgive me, that is not a topic best talked about over a much needed meal," Her mood and the air around her seemed to lighten again, and Kithran is grateful, if only in hopes that she would not be distracted in their tasks ahead.

"Thank you for keeping me grounded.” She says to Ch’dau before turning back to the half-Syl, “And Kithran?" She gave her a smirk, "Yes, I did see you take one of the eggs from my plate."

Kithran’s eyes go wide and she chews faster, swallowing hard, “What? Me? Heavens no, I  . . . that was Samuel, Ara, that’s who you must be thinking of.” Her smirk reflected Aranwen’s own and she held out her pear, “Your lovely eyes are too perceptive, Bladesinger. I’m sorry, this is all I have left.” She looks over at Ch’dau regretfully, then back to Aranwen and sighs heavily, holding out her other hand, “I actually also have this meatball, if you’re interested.”

How did Ara catch that?!

Hmmmm, those perceptive Bladesingers . . . . 

Been planning on writing up another reaction-esque post as well, and also trying to finish up a pre-prequel examining a bit more of her sticky--fingered education

Works for me Eol, looking forward to it!

*Ara huuuuuugsss*

Also lol, Saina trying to pronounce Ara's name was so spot on. I'm usually "Bran" to little kids instead of "Breann", those vowels really get them

Haha awesome! I may never want kiddos, but as an Auntie to a horde of them, I have so much experience in being hangry and appeasing inquisitive kids.

I'm a level 20 Aunt over here!

PS OH! What was the girl's name? I looked back at the first post she was in and didn't see it but may have missed it :3

Packing my bags and using the RDINN Amazon link to purchase tarot cards!

For $5 a minute, I'll tell you your fortune!

Haha, if I'm being honest, the original name was "Gary" because I thought it was funnier, but I didn't think there would be many Gary's in Audalis.

Samuel WAS the first name that came to mind afterward though, so I'll def read your palms in exchange for some chili.

"It seems he has noticed us too," Aranwen smiles as she stares over at the priest, "I'll find out more of him."

Their server interrupts their interactions then, welcoming the group and requesting their orders. Kith’s stomach begins rumbling again at the list, combined with the warm smells around the room, and she can hardly wait for Ch’dau and Aranwen to finish ordering before she lists hers, “Lots of quail eggs, please. And pears. And I will have some nut bread as well. Thank you.”

Aranwen then makes to move up from the table when a small voice reaches out to her.

"Are you hide and seeking?"

A chill runs down Kith’s spine as she jerks away from the sound and draws her dagger before seeing the strange child at the Bladesinger’s side.

Aranwen visibly relaxes when she sees her, "Dear goodness, don't scare people like that," she sighed and Kithran resheaths her blade, keeping her hand on the handle, "Did you find your parents, little one?"

"Yep! They said you pro-teckd them and we went inside like you said. I saw you and wanted to say thanks!" the girl grinned aggressively at the Bladesinger.

Uninterested, Kithran looks back toward the kitchen. Their server walked out with arms full of food and the hungry thief sat up straight, excited for it to be laid in front of her, but the woman walks right by their table and she slumps back in her seat, crossing her arms in frustration. She turns back to their group to find the sandy-haired ragdoll looking back at her instead of Aranwen.

"Are you her friends?" the girl asks, and Kithran looks to Ch’dau, clearly attempting to hide his physique as much as possible.

“We are,” the cat-man replies in his low rumbling tone, “though we are not good company for little ones.”

Kithran grins at his unintentionally ominous reply and turns to the girl, leaning forward conspiratorially, “That’s right, kid, we’re not so good for little children like yourself,” she puts her hood up too, casting the top half of her face in shadow, “so you better watch out.” She glances to the kitchen from which her food has still not come.

“What are you doing?” the child asks, bringing her attention back.

“I’m . . . trying to . . .” she throws her hood down, “don’t you have some parents to go bother or something?”

“Oh, am I bothering you?”

Kithran watched as the messy-haired girl’s face suddenly changed. Whether upset that Kith may not want her around, or offended at the idea that she could be bothering them, Kith could not tell. She glanced back at the table where Aranwen was taking her time with the Cidal priest, to the kitchen once more where they were taking time with her food, and back to the girl.

She sighed, Aranwen had saved their lives, the least she could do was placate a child, “No, of course not.”

The girl relaxed and a smile reformed on her face, “Who are you?”

“I’m Kithran, this here is . . .” Kith looked to Ch’dau, unsure and unable to ask whether his name was compromising while still in this city, “Samuel.“

She giggled, “He doesn’t look like a Samuel.”

“Oh, he's a Samuel.” She felt her stomach rumble, the beginning of the storm, and tried to distract herself with this useless conversation, “Dooooo, you have a name?”

“Yes!” The girl beamed.

“Great.”

“Wanna know what it is?”

“I definitely do.”

((OOC: name?))

“That name is far better than Samuel. ” Kithran slipped further down in her chair, her hands on her stomach.

The girl leaned forward to follow Kith's movement as she slumped, “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Coria, Samuel is from . . . also Coria.”

Her eyes widened, “Oh wow! Have you been to Calstra?! I heard that you can find everything in Calstra!”

“Calestra," she corrected, "And you can find all of that and more, if either you try hard enough or don’t pay enough attention.” The little girl cast a quizzical look at her reply and Kith tilted her head back, how much longerrrrr?! She saw Aranwen stand up from the other table then and righted her head, sitting back up quickly.

As if the gods had finally deemed her trials worthy, the food finally arrived, and Kithran was grateful to Aranwen for now weathering the attention of the child while she popped the quail eggs into her mouth.

Yeeesss, Kith will probably be more awkward with her than mean, though kids can ask some questions. Ara might just come back to Kith being irritated and haaangry.