Post #2 takes place somewhere in the neighborhood of two weeks after Ch'dau and Ara leave Crandel... Puts them on the fringes of Calestra and, thus, in a rather busy part of the world.

There's the possibility of Ch'dau and Ara encountering a Lysoran priest, here, perhaps... or the biological father of a lost adoptive daughter... among other possibilities... just throwing that out there

Created just in case there needed to be discussion or if there happen to be questions.

Meadowbrook NPCs

So, as this has been progressing, I've ended up creating a pretty decent handful of Meadowbrook's population. Figured I'd throw a post up, here, just to keep track of them:

• Brif – A tall, thin human. Early to mid-20s. Part of the town’s militia and frequent gate guard. Wears piece-meal armor and carries a broad bladed spear.


• Osric – Another human member of the militia/gate guard. Frequently partnered with Brif. Shorter and stockier than his counterpart. Carries a sturdy cudgel and wears a mail-shirt that could use some attention.


• Rakiim Ironforge – Meadowbrook’s blacksmith. A curmudgeonly old Khord, perhaps 200 or so years of age, with sooty-gray hair and a beard done up in long plaits. A nasty scar streaks from forehead to cheek over his left eye which is milky and cloudy (presumably caused by the same injury that left the scar). His right eye is a deep green. Drinks heavily but it doesn’t seem to affect him much.


• Simon and Ellaloth “Ella” Cromleon – The Cromleons are Samuel and Sara’s ‘neighbors.’ Simon is a human of about 30 years old with a shaved head and brown eyes; a fisherman by trade (though he has designs on becoming the mayor), and a frequent patron of The Lakeshore Tavern. Ella is a young half-Syl, perhaps in her early to mid 20s, with dark, straight hair and glittering pale blue eyes. She often works for a couple of the larger farms in town but, also, tends her own small gardens when time permits.


• Mhera - An elderly Cidal woman with wispy white hair. The town's apothecary and Sara's current 'mentor'. ((Reralae: Feel free to feed me more details on this one, if/when you see fit... Just took these few details from your last post. ))


• Tuli Ironforge - Rakiim's wife. Not quite as old as Rakiim but still on the elderly side. She has gray-shot auburn hair and dark eyes. Very fond of Samuel, often brings him breakfast from the fish market if he hasn't eaten before coming to work.


• Orangeblossom "Blossom" Nobottle - A Cidal barmaid at the Lakeshore Tavern. She has curly, chestnut colored hair, large green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She's a friendly little thing, some might even say "sweet," but she can give as good as she gets if need be.

Also, if anyone else has ideas for citizens of Meadowbrook and would like them added to this list, feel free to edit them in (if you have the permissions to do so) or shoot me a PM and I'll happily add them for you.

12^th Ternoth Ore, 453 E.R.
The Outskirts of Calestra, Coria

Their route had led them, roughly, along the course of the Thrace river, skirting wide past the Lake of Heroes, the rutted track splitting the land evenly between that lake and the walls of Mycen Castle. As dusk settled over Coria, the kazari driving the cart reined in the mules just as the road crested a hill, providing an expansive view of the eminent trade-city of Calestra, just a few miles distant.

He had vague recollections of the city, of course – Castle Greymonte, the home of his mercenary company, was nestled behind its walls, after all –  but it was not his own memories of the place that gave him pause, now. No, he imagined the Wyverns would take him in, again, should he drive the cart up to the castle and ask sanctuary for Aranwen and himself, especially if Roddric still lived and was posted there. Rather, it was the tales of her own time in the city that Kithran had shared with him that had coaxed him to a stop atop this knoll. He couldn’t help but wonder, as he watched the lamps flicker to life, in window and along walk, if he might find his kibibi’s true father in the market… or, if he might encounter one of the Laughing Maidens on the streets, who might share stories of a dark eyed, dark haired girl who had been such a delight to their company all those years ago…

I will bring her home, he sighed inwardly, vainly hoping that the unspoken words would reach whomsoever may need to hear them.

…Even more than chancing upon Randel Aldeath or one of Shinara’s flock, though, Ch’dau worried at crossing paths with another bladesinger. He didn’t know if word of the happenings in Ertain had made it this far, as yet, of course, but, even in the weeks that had passed, he was sure that Aranwen was not yet ready to face, let alone accept her place in, her order. She didn’t need that kind of scrutiny, just now, he was sure, and he wasn’t prepared to subject her to it no matter how remote the chance.

The skies grew darker and the lights of the city began to flicker like stars as the shadows deepened. The sigh that escaped him, too, stretched out into a yawn, then, and he glanced back into the bed of the cart where Aranwen slept, for a change, curled in a pile of blankets amidst what remained of their supplies. “I think this is as far as we go, tonight, m’penzi,” he purred softly before clucking his tongue and taunting the mules off the road.

He drove the wagon to the fringes of the forest to the left of the track, then, and spent some time setting up a simple camp beneath the canopy. Once he had loosed the mules from the cart and tended their needs, Ch’dau climbed into the back of the wagon, scooped the sleeping Syl up in his arms, and carried her to the small tent at the forest’s edge. As he lay her down on the bedroll, he felt her stir, and her arms went around his neck, keeping him close for a moment.

“Where are we, now,” she asked, her voice weary and still not quite fully awake.

“Calestra,” he purred softly, easing her onto the bedding without breaking her hold on him, “nearly.”

“I don’t want to go into the city,” she moaned, her eyes opening to narrow slits as they peered up into his.

“I know, love,” he nodded, stroking her cheek before lifting a hand to gently pry her grasp loose, “This is why I have made us a camp under the trees, hmm?”

“Diola lle, melamin,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut again at his tender attentions, “I…I just…”

“Shhh,” the kazari purred, “I know… I know…” His hand abandoned her cheek just long enough to draw the tent flaps closed and, then, he lay down beside her, readily accepting her as she scooted closer and nestled into him. “Come the morning, I will go into the city and make sure we have what we need for the rest of our trip, yes?

You can stay here and, when I am finished, we will be on our way, again. We will not even take the road through. We will go around instead.”

“Okay,” she sighed, nuzzling into him as she drifted back into her rest. “Will you… look for her, there?”

“Of course, Ara,” Ch’dau answered, wrapping her in his arms and coaxing her deeper back into her troubled sleep, “as I do wherever we stop, yes?”

“Mmmm…”

“Quel esta, melamin,” he purred, “dawn will be on us soon enough.”

I'm already tempted to draw one!!!

If we have a cub, we have a name, now!

"vyo-vyotay"  is closer to the way it sounded in my mind, really... A glottal stop here and there might be more accurate... "veh'YOH veh'yoh'TAY"? Something like that... but, yeah, a non kazari saying vyo-vyotay would be close enough for a fuzz face to know what you meant, even if they also thought; "You be talkin' funny, t'mbili!"

Aaaand, yeah, I just pulled "Kithvena" outta my pu'nda (that's kazari for ass, bee-tee-dubs)...You're into her enough that we oughta start "shipping" the thing like Brangelina and such, right?

Hope it goes well for you, kibibi!  And, if it doesn't, "F" them! Anybody would be lucky to have you and, if they can't see it, they're not worth your time.

I'm kind of really hoping that Ch'dau will find, at least, his dak'tar in that outbuilding - these leg sleeves are drving him crazy - and, of course, the falcata are preferable to short swords but... you know... v'yo v'yo'te ("whatever" in the kazari). lol

Anyhoo... you finish up whenever you get to it, Kithvena!  We'll be here... and I'll be working on the next installment of the epilogue while I wait.  

P.S. Making up kazari words on the fly is sooooooo much fun!!!

Lovely post, Butterfly!

Have something in mind for Ch'dau's next, as well, but I know Bree has something in the works, so I'll stand by for a bit in order to see what comes of that. 

FWIW - I see the "outbuilding" being a smallish structure (especaially as compared to the manor house. Maybe 20'x20' or so and only a single, low-roofed story (from the outside, anyway), a wide, two-doored entry on the manor-facing wall (much like barn doors) and a single, iron bound door at one side. No windows available to peer inside.

And the assimilation is complete!!!

I LOVE that!!! 

Can confirm!

I'm hyped for the next season to hit on the 27th, actually!

Such a ridiculously funny show!

Also, the actual town of Letterkenny is about a 4 hour drive from where my "roots" are in Northern NY, so I can totally relate to some of the "small town hick" business. For as ridiculous as the show is, it's also pretty accurate.

...Eol doesn't totally get ANYTHING! If he did, by the gods, why would he run around licking people in the face all the time?!?!?

Oooooh, I get it, alright... there's evidence on Bae-vena's sleeve, fer Rrowl's sake!

*ducks out of the way of the pending spray bottle assault*

Just to keep it visible, you know?

Trust me folks, the first installment was an edge of your seat thrill ride! I can only imagine what lies in wait for the next bit! Get in here and join us!

I'm THRILLED that it worked out the way it did, myself... Even more so that it brought you into the mix as Kith!

Slipping out of the comfort zone sometimes brings the best results! 

And Rer taking over Ara!!! *swoons* Never expected Ch'dau to fall in love but....    

... I was just curious. Didn't need details, just kinda wondered.

As to "bread and butter" characters, mine are usually in the vein of rogues or rangers. Ch'dau is the first full-on fighter type I've played in YEEEAAAARRRSSSS. I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did.

In fact, when I signed up for HC, my initial thought was to put on a rogue but I sidelined that when Kith was created... How coincidental is that?

Bringing us a mage next go round, eh?

That should be fun! Any details you wanna share?

Love me some Lindsey!!!

And yeah, the jumping back and forth between KCandK and HC iterations of these characters is tough... especially now... 

...that's a BIG part of the reason I decided to go ahead with the aftermath stuff, Butterfly.

Gives us a peek into what might be transpiring, at least where Ch'dau and Aranwen (or, is it Samuel and Sara) are concerned, in the span of time between the original game and the next installment. 

Besides, I've become addicted to the characters and wanted to keep playing around with them, anyway.

I swear I think Bree posts that crap when she knows I'm taking a drink of anything!

What do you have against my sinuses, woman?!?!?

...you know, throw on the persona of a villager in Meadowbrook or some such, if you like?

Hell, Bree suggested that perhaps Ch'dau might get in touch with ol' Mosic Townes and enlist his aid in getting Aranwen's head right. You're more than welcome to pick that up... Don't want you to feel left out of your own tale, boss, even if it is just a peripheral jaunt.

And, yeah... Ya just gotta LOVE Raven... Gotta love him LOOOOOOOONG time! It's cold in Finland after all. 

Okay, so I put together a little something as an "epilogue" of sorts for Hidden Corruption. A glimpse at what becomes of Ch'dau and Aranwen, in particualr, after escaping the temple... I figure I'll build on this, bit by bit, whilst we wait for the next chapter to get underway/ I hereby extend an open invitation to any of you who would like to contribute to do so as you will.

Hidden Corruption: Aftermath

I suppose I should also note that I took a few liberties with our surviving characters, here... I feel like I've come to know them pretty well over the last year+ but, if any words or actions I put into your mouths don't seem to quite fit, feel free to let me know and I'll be happy to edit.

22nd Pfier (Merday), 453 E.R.
Gates of the village of Crandel

"Tha's tha, then," Captain Malk stated flatly.  "Gods protec' us," The captain made a sign to ward off evil as as spoke, "and ye as well.  Wilf 'ere 'as some provisions fer yer trip; Mort winnae 'ear of takin' a single falchon fer tha lot.  Safe travels to ya."

Ch’dau nodded faintly, his gaze travelling to the wagon upon which a portion of those provisions had been loaded and lingering, for a long moment, on the cloaked form of the broken bladesinger who sat, almost catatonic, on the buckboard. “Our thanks, rrow’ka,” the kazari sighed heavily, turning his eyes back to Malk and resting a paw on the man’s shoulder, “for all that you and the people of this village have done. Thank Mort for me, again, too, yes?”

“I’ll do jus’ tha, Ch’dau,” Malk answered, his own gaze flitting back from his regard of the Syl woman as he smiled, almost sadly, up into the cat-man’s eyes, “an’ if you lot e’er find yerselves back this way, I’ll be sure ta fergit bout th’ beast-tax an’ peace knots, eh?”

“That would be appreciated, Captain,” the kazari chuffed – it was the first time in weeks that even the hint of a chuckle had played in his voice. He glanced over his shoulder, again, taking in the sight of Gib and Cedric standing beside the wagon, a goodly portion of the provisions weighing their packs. “I do not think that Aranwen and I will be back through here any time soon, though.”

“A shame, tha,” Malk sighed, “but I reckon I un’erstand. Ya take care o’ her, aye? An’ yerself?”

“I will,” Ch’dau nodded, “And you continue taking care of Crandel, yes?”

“O’ course. I’ll send word should anythin’ go awry.”

“You do that,” the kazari rumbled, clasping Malk’s forearm and, then, turned to make his way to the wagon. Gib turned as Ch’dau approached, offering a wan smile and a curt nod; Cedric, though, kept his attentions on Aranwen, speaking to the withdrawn Syl in soft tones despite the fact that she didn’t respond.

“You’re sure about this, my friend,” Gib queried, glancing first at the gates and then at where Aranwen was perched before turning his eyes back on his kazari friend, “You would be an asset in our search, I’m sure.”

The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Ch’dau’s mouth, too, but he sighed and nodded. “I am sure, friend Gib,” he replied, gesturing vaguely at where Ara sat, “Our khatun is… broken… by what has happened. I need to be an asset to her, right now. Take her somewhere that she can collect herself and, at last, realize that she has not failed us the way she thinks.”

He offered an uncertain shrug at that and met the war-priest’s moss-colored eyes; “Perhaps, by the time your search bears fruit, she will be ready once again.”

“We can hope,” Gib nodded, “and we will pray.”

“As will I.”

“Where will you go,” the cleric of Therassor asked, then, “do you know?”

Ch’dau nodded. “She has spoken to me, from time to time, of a village to the east of the Three Kingdoms that has long held some charm for her,” he said, “Meadowbrook, she called it. I think we will go there.”

“Then that is where we shall look for you when we have news,” Gib sighed, falling into step beside the kazari as he continued toward the wagon, “By the Honored General’s grace, it shouldn’t be long.”

“I truly hope not,” Ch’dau returned, “Time is not a thing we have an abundance of, now. Any of us.”

“A fact of which I am sorely aware, my friend,” Gib nodded faintly and, as they reached the cart, tapped Cedric lightly on the shoulder, “We’ll be sure not to waste a minute.”

Cedric turned and blinked, his young face showing far more age than it had even two weeks ago, now. “So,” he smiled sadly, “you’re really going, then?”

“We are,” Ch’dau confirmed, his blue-green eyes flicking past the son of Solanis to Aranwen and back, “I believe we have to… for now, at least.”

Cedric’s smile melted into a frown for an instant but, soon enough, he nodded, and the smile returned. “I suppose so,” he said softly, “We’ll miss the both of you, you know?”

A soft purr rumbled in the kazari’s chest and he reached out a paw to haul the young cleric into a crushing embrace. “And we will miss you, v’dogo t’mbili,” he replied, tousling Cedric’s hair before releasing him from the hug, “but I am also sure we will see you soon.”

“You know where you’re going, then?”

“He does,” Gib confirmed as Cedric took a step away from the cart, “we’ll find him easily enough when the time comes.”

“You damn well better,” Ch’dau smirked, reaching out, now, to pull Gib into his arms, “I will be waiting. We will be waiting.”

Gib returned the big cat’s hug and added a few, solid claps on the back before letting go. “Very soon,” he promised. “You mind yourself out in the world, Ch’dau, and take good care of her,” he nodded to where Aranwen hid beneath her cloak, “and the time will pass before you know it.”

Ch’dau nodded, perhaps smiled a bit, and then climbed up onto the buckboard beside Ara. “The two of you mind yourselves, as well,” he said, taking up the reins, “I shall be watching for you.”

The two clerics took a few more steps back, then, and, as the kazari flicked the reins and urged the mules on, lifted hands to bid one more farewell to the Silver Cat of Coria and the Sylvari woman, as the cart clattered away through Crandel’s gates.

As the town receded behind them, Aranwen, her golden eyes almost muddy, now, and rimmed with red, finally turned and peered at Ch’dau from beneath the hood of her cloak. “Where are we going?”

“Meadowbrook,” Ch’dau answered softly, “That is where you have told me you wish to go, is it not?”

She nodded and a shuddering sigh escaped her as she leaned in and buried her face in his fur. “Thank you, melamin,” she shuddered, her voice cracking, “for not forsaking me after… after…”

“Shhhh, m’penzi,” he purred, wrapping an arm around her and cradling her against him as she sobbed anew, “I would never forsake you. Just as you have never forsaken us.”

“She’s… gone…” Aranwen’s wracking sobs were muffled by her face being pressed into Ch’dau’s chest, “I’ve failed her… failed you… all is… lost…”

Her pain was his, as well, but, for Aranwen’s sake, Ch’dau couldn’t let himself wallow in his own perceived failings. Instead, he could only pull her closer and nuzzle her reassuringly as he purred softly. “This is no more your fault than mine, dear one,” he said, stroking her hair where her hood had spilled back, “We will find her, Ara, and bring her home where she belongs. I promise you this, yes?”

Her slender fingers twisted in his fur, at that, and he felt her face twist against his chest as if she were turning her eyes to his. When he looked down to meet them, though, her golden gaze was obscured by the chaotic spill of her oaken hair and a makeshift mask created by the rumpling fabric of her cowl. “You can’t,” she insisted hoarsely, “You can’t promise that! I couldn’t keep her safe and neither could you! How can you promise to bring her home when we don’t even know where she is?!”

Ch’dau had no answer for that. At least, no answer that the broken bladesinger would benefit from hearing, now. He stifled a sigh as he lifted a hand to gently stroke the hair and hood from her face, leaned over a bit to kiss the stream of tears from her cheek, and, then, nestled her still closer to him as his eyes turned back to the road ahead. “I can promise it, my love,” he muttered after a moment, “because Khr’a saw fit to keep me alive to see it happen…”

The last moments he had seen Kithran’s face, detached and disinterested as she had run him through with Aranwen’s own blade, played in his mind, then, and he finished the thought without letting the words fall upon her ears. Even if I have to kill her, he mused, his heart breaking at even having to imagine such a thing, I will bring her home.

…He cradled her head in one massive paw, pressing her back into the scar-streaked fur of his chest, then, and purred softly, evenly. “Rest now, m’penzi,” he rumbled gently over the purring, “we have a long road ahead of us and you need not think of these things for a time.”

Bring on the BOOGALOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

That's a stew I'd rather not imagine!