Meds got the better of me yesterday and I was unable to string together much of a coherent thought, let alone a post. Feeling better enough today that I've forgone any muscle relaxers and am operating solely on ibuprofen. That said, I'll get a post going for Cas in just a bit.

Also - it's fine with me if it's just assumed that Cas meets the rest at the gate should you want to bump things up before I'm finished, I'll just cover the rest "backpost style."

Meds got the better of me yesterday and I was unable to string together much of a coherent thought, let alone a post. Feeling better enough today that I've forgone any muscle relaxers and am operating solely on ibuprofen, soooooo... I'm working on a post now. Should have it ready soon.

Sorry, gang... been a horrendous couple of weeks. Busy, busy, busy and then blew out my back. I'll have a post up today.

Yep... and here I am still holding things up.

I'll get a post up, today.

Been busy with work and "working for the wife," lately. Hiopefully, I'll get an update of my own in, today.

What about a rust monster? Those are always fun!

Last week was busy and stressful (lots of gov't bureaucracy and other such nonsense that I won't bore you with) and, sadly, it's carried over into this week, too. Will do my best to get caught up and posted soon.

Last week was busy and stressful (lots of gov't bureaucracy and other such nonsense that I won't bore you with) and, sadly, it's carried over into this week, too. Will do my best to get caught up and posted soon.

We finally got some decent weather, here, and, as a result, I've been "playing in the yard" since Friday. Hoping to get back to it, this morning.

Lady Dark wanted me to inform you all that she won't be able to post for a day or two as her screen is shattered. Once she gets that situation resolved, she'll be back in full force.

I went ahead and posted the little bit I had in order to keep things moving. I also have a bit of a post worked up for the following morning wherein Fin and company are looking for their ride to Barbados but I'm reserving that until we get everyone else caught up where the Captain's counsel and such is concerned.

Now then - Heard from Lady Dark last night and, apparently, she's got screen issues which she won't be able to resolve for a day or two, thus, she won't be able to post until her screen is fixed.

Nursing his ale, Fin watches as, in the hush that has descended over their little table, Anastasia stares at the worn surface for a moment. He could almost hear the woman’s mind at work, weighing options, information, and possibilities in order to get her bearings and determine the ebb or flow of the tides of their fate. 

“We’re too new t’ these waters t’ make brash decisions,” she counsels, her gaze lifting from the tabletop to frame the faces of her officers, once more, “So, we’re not going t’ tie ourselves off t’ either boat jus’ yet.”

 Turning her steely-eyed gaze to her quartermaster, Captain Cole begins to give orders. “Crowe’ll put together a small crew from the Dog—one tha’ includes Maggie. You lot’ll complete the task set t’ you by Davenport. This’ll put us even on the scale while I ‘sess out which tide we’re gonna sail. Goncalvo, you can ‘elp me with the task. Cracker’d make a good addition t’ yer crew, Mr. Crowe. Any questions?”

“None from me, Capt’n,” Crowe rasps, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table for a moment. His own gaze pans from Maggie to Cracker and back again as a faint smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “I don’ reckon I’ll be needin’ none but these two, neither,” he offers, glancing at Anna, once more, “it’s naught but th’ one man we’re after an’, per’aps a competin’ crew er two ta handle should it come ta tha’.”

Shrugging his shoulders, the quartermaster lifts his mug and drains the remainder of its contents in a single swallow. As he rises out of his seat, he wipes his mouth on the back of his forearm and eyes Maggie and Cracker, again. “Take th’ night ta get yer s#y^e t’gether,” he suggests, “I reckon we’ll be gone ‘bout a week. Less if fortune favors us, savvy? Come sun-up, we go ashore an’ find us a float ta Barbados. Ye wanna know more ‘bout this hunt afore then, ye c’n find me in me cabin.”

Okay... I've got one started. Should have it ready this afternoon... unless Lady D and/or Nomad want to collab.

EDIT: Well, what I've got so far isn't much but, what I do have, I sent off to Lady Dark and Nomad in the form of a PM in case one or both of you would like to contribute/collaborate on a larger, group post.

...to have a post by this evening. Tomorrow, at latest.

...to keep the dialogue flowing.

Cas' response to Aymani's question about the secrecy is based solely on what he's learned and/or surmised, so far, given his conversation with Lys, her letter, etc. He's not liable to mention anything about Lya's death or many more details just yet... especially with an Arcaren in the room.

After Girta’a had lit the lamps in the cellar, she bade the company to sit and acquaint themselves with one another while she excused herself to fetch food and drink. Castien didn’t sit immediately, though; instead, he paced slowly around the table, his gaze travelling between the assembled group and the maps on the table as the others began to introduce themselves.

“I’m guessing we are all here for the same reason,” the gnome said, unhesitant to spring into a chair and address the party, “Our lovely young hostess urged us to introduce ourselves, so let me begin.  I am Borborybodboddynock...”

Cas grinned at the gnome’s enthusiasm and, admittedly, the little fellow’s name. He’d heard many times in his years that elven names could often be tongue-tanglingly complicated but, he figured, gnomes had elves beaten in that regard.

 “…I will leave it short and spare you the rest of it for now,” the gnome laughed,  “But you can call me Bory.” 

When Bory had finished his introduction, the Lioness spoke next. “I’m Aymani,” she said, a faint smile on her lips as her eyes skimmed the table, “Lady Lys asked me to show up for this meeting. Any guesses as to why all the secrecy?”

The half-orc’s gaze chanced past his at that instant and he nodded faintly as his fingers came down lightly on one of the maps. “The situation in Ghostwood is complicated,” he offered, “there are things that are known and others that are only rumor. I imagine that it is these rumors that urge our secrecy. Should they spread farther than they have, already, panic may ensue,” the elf shrugged, then, his eyes panning from one face to the next as a cordial smile formed on his lips. “I am Castien,” he said, then, “a Blade of Astryliene. You may call me Cas, if you prefer.”

Lady Dark asked me to let everyone know that she would be updating on Sunday. She had her eyes dilated today (And, thus, can't really see to post tonight) and has family function stuff tomorrow. 

Hope the damage isn't too severe... and that the winds leave you alone for a while.

And there's a post for Cas... Special thanks to Chess for contributing to the conversation between Cas and Soren.

I figured that was a decent place to stop for the time being... give the rest of you room to open things up to further interaction, etc... if any of you need me to contribute/collab anything from Cas, you know where to find me! I'll try to be quick in my responses.

Halfred’s Bake Shoppe; shortly after midnight

The span of time between when he’d left Halfred’s, this morning, and the hour at which he’d been asked to return might have been an extensive and restless gap but, once he had talked himself out of returning to the temple to steal a bit more time with Silva, Castien had managed to fill the hours well enough that he’d scarcely noticed. He had spent the morning wandering the streets, rather aimlessly, at first, while he pondered on the presence of the Arcaren who had been surveilling the bake shoppe; however, direction (and distraction from his musings over the Salvager) had found him soon enough when people began to recognize him as being a disciple of Astryliene. When that happened, the elf found his hours quickly filled with requests for aid in matters great and small – a plea for a blessing and a handful of coppers spilled into a beggar’s cup, here, assistance in fixing a broken cart wheel and the rounding up of a spooked team of horses, there – and, when the sun had climbed to its zenith, the afternoon found him quite hungry.

The elf made his way to a small park, just off one of the city’s squares, and made a lunch of the one remaining sweet apple loaf from the box Girta’a had given him earlier (the others had been given away to a pair of urchins who looked to be in desperate need of food). Following that repast, more time was spent in meditation and sword forms before Castien coaxed himself away from the park and back onto Watertown’s thoroughfares. The remainder of the afternoon and a good portion of the evening, too, had lapsed in much the same manner as the morning and, by the time the city found itself shrouded in the darkest hours of night, the Blade’s steps led him, again, to the little bakery in the Market District.

Standing before the shop, now, the elf’s eyes lifted to the heavens, gauging the time by where the stars hung in the sky. Then, he reached out a hand, rapped lightly on the door, and waited.

 “Hello again, Girta’a,” Castien smiled softly as the door opened, “I hope I’ve not arrived too early or too late.” He noted the rigidness in her shoulders and the apprehensive yet determined set of her features that had dampened the bright smile he’d been greeted with this morning.

“Please, come in, come in. It’s good to see you again,” the half-orc girl said, waving him in as her eyes skipped past him to scour the darkness outside, “Both of you.”

Both? Castien glanced back over his shoulder and was, honestly, more than a little surprised to see the Arcaren from this morning emerging from the dark. His smile flattened a bit and, he was sure, that puzzlement was replacing it on his features.

“Diola lle,” he said, turning his now suspicious gaze away from the Salvager and stepping through the door. “Is all well? I cannot help but sense some small bit of trepidation.” His eyes lingered on the girl for a moment and, with the Arcaren present, he realized it must have sounded like a stupid question.

“A long day, is all,” Girta’a lied rather unconvincingly, already backing herself toward the stairway, “Please, wait here while I get the others. I will only be a moment.”

“Of course,” Castien nodded.

He watched as the girl whirled away and bounded up the stairs. When she was gone from sight, he turned to regard the man who had followed him in. His expression wasn’t precisely friendly but neither was it disrespectful and he even managed a fractional bow. “Well met, Arcaren,” the elf said dryly, unaware that his hand had come to rest on the hilt of the scimitar hanging at his hip.

Soren briefly glances at the hand now resting on the scimitar's hilt, then meets Castien's gaze. His expression neutral, he replies, "Well met indeed, Storm-chaser." He waits just a moment. "Be at ease. There is no need to fight here."

The elf's brow knitted in confusion for an instant. Then, his gaze tracking where the human's had just gone, realizing where his hand sits, the confused expression morphs into one more closely resembling embarrassment (and perhaps disappointment in himself). "Apologies," he murmured as his fingers loosen and his hand falls from the hilt of his blade, "I meant no offense or assumption. I... I just wasn't expecting an agent of the Authority to have been summoned." He offered a more proper bow of acknowledgement at that and, his eyes meeting the Salvager's, again, said; "I am Castien Mithretaryl, Blade of Astryliene."

Soren nods. "I am Soren, Salvager of the Arcaren. Your apology is accepted, and your surprise understandable. I did not expect to be here myself." He looks around, before meeting Castien's eye again. "If your concern is for the inhabitants of this delightful bakery, then let me assure you; the Arcaren has no interest in bread-makers."

“I should hope not,” Castien replied with a faint grin, letting the else there would be need to fight here bit go unspoken, “If I might ask, Soren, what interest might the Arcaren have here, at all? It’s an exceedingly rare thing that your ilk involves itself in the affairs of my Temple.”

Soren pauses a moment, clearly considering, then nods slightly to himself. "I know little myself. I was directed here via a letter from my superiors, who had gotten word that another of your number was here on some sort of mission. I am directed to find her, and offer what aid I may."

Aid? Castien found himself only barely able to choke back the chuckle of disbelief that forced it’s way from his lungs but got dammed behind his teeth. He found it hard to believe that the Arcaren Authority would so much as consider aiding the Sisters of Astryliene let alone actually offer any up. He chewed Soren’s words carefully and, in doing so, couldn’t help but be suspicious that, regardless of what this man said, that there weren’t ulterior motives at play. If not from Soren, himself, than from his superiors. Is this part of my trials? He didn’t think overlong on the matter, though. Instead, he swallowed the sticky lump that his thoughts had become and offered a nod of his own in return. “In that case, Soren, Salvager of the Arcaren,” he said, “I welcome whatever assistance you can offer.”

Soren offered nothing more than a simple, silent nod in response, then, and, had either of the pair had anything else to say, it was forestalled by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. Girta’a had returned and, following her, were a small, orange-haired gnome whom Castien didn’t recognize and another human whose appearance was all too familiar to the elf…

“Karos!” Castien’s smile returned, full and friendly, at the sight of the young rogue and he stepped forward to greet his friend as they reached the bottom of the steps. “Nae saian lumme’, mellonamin, (It has been too long, my friend)” he grinned, clasping Karos’ forearm in greeting, “You look well.”

The reunion between Cas and his longtime friend, much like whatever words were set to fall from Girta’a’s lips, was interrupted by a strong, clear knock at the door then. As the half-orc girl skirted the assembled company, all eyes followed her as she wordlessly opened the door to admit another of her kind… There was something more imposing about this one, though... fierce and strong and… Castien’s eyebrows raised as recognition dawned on him; this was one of Sister Lys’ favorite fighters from the arena, Aymani Aset!

The elf grinned at the sight of her and he offered a respectful nod of acknowledgement and greeting as the Lucky Lioness’ eyes met his. There was little time for further talk at that moment, though, as Girta’a beckoned them all to follow her through the kitchen and, then, down a flight of roughly constructed steps which led to Halfred’s “wine cellar.” This is quite the company you’ve called together, dear Sister, Castien mused, following along with the others as they were led into the large, cluttered storeroom, My trials will certainly be interesting if nothing else.

...but it seems that, right about in the middle of it, Cas has found himself alone with Soren, soooooooo, Chess, check your PMs.

I really do need to dig my sketchbook out from beneath the work clutter on my desk! I have in progress pictures of both Bory and Karos in there that need to be finished aaand some conceptualization doodles of the Temple at Watertown, Soren, and Lys, as well... I'll certainly see what I can do about adding Girta'a into that mix.

Taking advantage of a quiet lunch break to get a post going, now. Once I've got that taken care of (and, assuming work stays quiet for a bit) I'll see about excavating that sketchbook.

Unfortunately, this one fizzled out before it really got going. Some of us are still holding out hope for a revival, I think, but, for now, this one is in limbo.

Got the beginning of a post in mind, at least. Given emails over the weekend, tomorrow looks to be a busy day at work but I'll try and get something going soon.

Love, I say... LOVE!