The Golden Leaf Inn

Quest for the Name of Martin


Cast

Narrator
Eroket Nightblade
Akilya Wisebrook
Kenlock
Cirofléta
Weston
Feverfew
Tarran
Scuzbo

Installment #1: A Dream, with Results

Narrator:
In the early hours of the morning, Weston wakes with a start. He's just had a strange dream...
Weston:
Weston snaps upright in bed with a gasp and a hoarse yell. His paws hit the floor within seconds and he sprints for the door.
Weston:
The abbey in general is roused by the almost-champion dashing through the abbey yelling at the top of his lungs. "My sword! My sword! Where is my sword?"
Feverfew:
Feverfew stirs sleepily in her cot in the infirmiry at the sound of Weston's yelling.
Feverfew:
Immediately assuming that someone is hurt, she bustles down the corridor towards the voices.
Tarran:
Tarran rolls over in his bed, and nervously clutches the hilt of his sword. Assured that his sword is safe, he yawns, and continues to sleep.
Weston:
Weston is dashing about, trying desperately to find the Sword. After a moment of that, he switches to trying to find any sword.
Weston:
Finally, common sense asserts itself, and Weston heads for the belltower. Selecting a short sword from the weapons stockpile there, he thrusts it into the sheath on his back and leaps at the rope, tolling the bells mightily.
Eroket Nightblade:
An amber eyes opens as the pure white ermine stretches forth a blood red claw to grabs his long black cloak. "What in the hells!"
Feverfew:
Rubbing her eyes sleepily, the young hedgehog hears the bells and directs herself towards the tower. "Something must be very wrong," she mutters to herself.
Tarran:
The tolling bells eventually wake Tarran, who gets up and stumbles out of bed, toward the Great Hall. He is not pleased.
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine snarls, placing his clothes on and walks to Great Hall
Narrator:
Redwallers rise sleepily from their beds, grumbling as they dress and head down to the Great Hall...
Eroket Nightblade:
"Why would this concern this one?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro stumbles into Great Hall, rubbing sleep from her eyes and adjusting her tunic. "Does anybeast know what is happening here?"
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine glances at Ciro. "This one has no idea..."
Narrator:
"Nay!" shouts one redwaller. "Who's been ringing the bells?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Irritation crosses on the black-cloaked ermine's face. "I have a guess..."
Kenlock:
"Why, you seem busy," says a voice from behind Weston, in the Belltower.
Weston:
Weston turns to Kenlock. "Busy indeed. Get a weapon. Find every able-bodied beast you can. Now. Quickly."
Feverfew:
Feverfew ambles into the belltower, eyes adjusting to the dimness. "Who's here?"
Kenlock:
"Why would I take orders from you...?" The cloaked otter turns and walks away.
Feverfew:
She walks into the otter. "Scuse me, sir."
Weston:
The squirrel grits his teeth as he drops from the bells. "Feverfew! Get a weapon and meet me in Great Hall."
Kenlock:
"Watch where you're walking.." Kenlock spits on the ground and continues on.
Weston:
Suiting action to words, Weston dashes off.
Feverfew:
"Weapon? What's going on?"
Narrator:
Down in the great hall, Abbess Rosefur has arrived, in equal temperment to the other Redwallers. A usually quiet, levelheaded, and very common-sensical mouse, she was chosen for the Abbess-ship when Ari had declined it.
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya enters the Great Hall, walking quickly and looking none too pleased. "What is all the commotion about?"
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine, looks to the otter. "Some fool was ringing the bells..."
Tarran:
Tarran, who is standing beside Abbess Rosefur, looks slightly embarrassed - he's the only redwaller still in his pyjamas.
Narrator:
"I believe I saw Weston dashing about outside from my window. We shall, I expect, get an explanation from him soon" calmly states the Abbess.
Kenlock:
Kenlock soon makes his way to the Great Hall, where he casually leans against one of the walls, and watches the chaos go about with slight pleasure.
Feverfew:
She decides follows Wes out of the belltower; she doesn't have any weapon being only out of dibbunhood.
Tarran:
"I hope so." Tarran mutters.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's amber eyes flash slightly, he leans back with a hiss of distaste.
Narrator:
"now, everyone, just sit down. I'll get the Friar to start cooking up breakfast..." again says the Abbess.
Weston:
The doors to Great Hall burst open to admit Weston, who is somewhat out of breath. "War... Vermin... Southward... Martinsaid..... harghh..." The squirrel pants.
Eroket Nightblade:
"Talk clearly, squirrel!" Eroket snaps
Feverfew:
Feverfew scrambles in and sits.
Narrator:
"Good morning, Weston." greets the Abbess with a smile.
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya stares for a long moment. "Details, Weston?"
Narrator:
"Care to take a seat?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's mood is anything but pleasant.
Eroket Nightblade:
"I suggest he explains himself first..."
Weston:
"Gmorng, Ladyabs.... huff.."
Tarran:
"He's gone mad." says Tarran.
Eroket Nightblade:
"Must we sit here and quibble or does this squirrel have a reason for acting such?"
Narrator:
"Everyone, hush!" shouts the Abbess. "Let him catch his breath, and then he can describe everything to us in complete and FULL detail."
Weston:
Weston, doubled over from lack of breath, shoots the ermine and the mouse a venomous glare each.
Kenlock:
The otter rubs his fingers along the side of his spear. He slowly gets impatient and annoyed, and decides to leave the abbey as soon as this commotion died down.
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine's own glance goes beyond venemous.
Tarran:
Tarran, in turn, shoots a venemous glare at the Ermine.
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya sniffs in disdain.
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine's cold glare turns into a cold and slightly unnerving smile at Tarran.
Tarran:
Tarran's glare does not.
Eroket Nightblade:
"Keep thy eyes off me, mouse."
Weston:
Slowly catching his breath, the squirrel sits. "Dream. I had.. a dream. Martin said... He said that there was a threat. A threat to the abbey. In the South. He said we had to deal with it. Quickly."
Eroket Nightblade:
"There are always threats to the south..."
Tarran:
Tarran ignores the ermine.
Narrator:
"What sort of threat?" asks the Abbess.
Feverfew:
"And how quickly? Can we get breakfast first?"
Akilya Wisebrook:
"Who has to deal with this threat?"
Kenlock:
At the mention of 'Martin', Kenlock rolls his eyes and gets ever more impatient.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's amber gaze flickers. "What is this blasted threat?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro politely kept silent, but mentally was quite disdainful about anything concerning the spirit of Martin.
Cirofléta:
Maybe it was jealously that the abbey was well protected whereas her family hadn't been all those seasons ago...
Tarran:
"And why haven't I had my breakfast?" asks Tarran.
Kenlock:
A low chuckle suddenly sounds from the otter's throat, and he shields his eyes with his free hand in an attempt to hide his obvious amusement.
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine sighs. He's getting tired with Redwall's superstitious beliefs in this log dead creature.
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya glances over at the otter, one eyebrow raising archly. "You find something amusing, sir?" she says in her most disdainful voice, staring down her nose at him despite the fact that he's taller than she is.
Weston:
"There is a rebellion. In the south. And the vermin claim Martin's name for their cause."
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine snarls at Akilya. "No reason he shouldn't otter..."
Narrator:
"Oh, no..." cries the Abbess.
Cirofléta:
"Well that's something!" she exclaims.
Kenlock:
Kenlock suddenly holds his arm out to Weston, and speaks loudly. "That, is what I find amusing!"
Feverfew:
"A spirit-mouse leader for a troop of vermin, what's next?" Cries Feverfew, amused.
Akilya Wisebrook:
The ottermaid gives him a level stare. "And what is so amusing about Weston?"
Eroket Nightblade:
The emrine's amber gaze holds her unwavering. "Why, this simplicity of course, my dear."
Narrator:
"You may laugh, yes, now. But that laughter won't last long. If vermin have taken upon the name of Martin for their own evil deeds, who knows how long our order will be safe in Southswards? We must do something to stop this..."
Kenlock:
"Letting the dreams of an obvious nut, crack chaos and disorder into this society." His smile disapears and his face shows anger and frustration.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket has been an enigma since arrival, answering few questions about himself...few would even beleive his past if he told them.
Feverfew:
"But why would anyone using Martin as a front want to harm his own life's work?"
Feverfew:
"How are we in danger?"
Feverfew:
The young hedgehog is thouroghly confused.
Tarran:
"So," asks Tarran, dubiously, "we have to go and fight to avenge the sullied name of our glorious departed founder?"
Eroket Nightblade:
"Why must we do that?"
Narrator:
"Tarran, there needs be no fighting."
Eroket Nightblade:
"A name is a name...not worth dying over..."
Narrator:
"A lifestyle is, however, Eroket."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Perhaps we need send a small group to...surbey this threat for themselves, abbess."
Kenlock:
Kenlock returns to his place in the shadows, and waits silently for this debate to end.
Tarran:
Tarran's tone is obviously mocking "And how do you intend to stop them, then, eh? Go up to the nice vermin and say 'Please Mister Vermin, Martin's name is copyrighted. So get your own.' Sure.."
Akilya Wisebrook:
Oddly enough, the ottermaid doesn't seem very upset about the news. If anything she seems excited, the gleam of anticipation in eyes otherwise lit only by superiority. Adventure! Like I've only read about!
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's eyes hold the ottermaid's. "Excited, otter?"
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya allows a small smile to touch her face. "Aye, and who would not be?"
Eroket Nightblade:
"Any wise beast, Akilya...any wise beast."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Obviously, thou has never seen battle...or this 'adventure.' you dream of..."
Narrator:
"Ah! An ounce of sense from the Ermine! A small group...I like the idea." says the Abbess.
Eroket Nightblade:
"If it is alright with the abbess...this one would like to go...I would enjoy seeing this for myself."
Narrator:
"Your initiative, Eroket, is heartening. Who else would like to go with him?" asks the Abbess to the crowd at large.
Weston:
Weston's paw immediately rises into the air. "I shall go."
Cirofléta:
Ciro steps forward, finally allowing herself to become involved in this debate. "I will go if need be. Perhaps my enemy is with these vermin."
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket nods at the red squirrelmaid. "perhaps they are not our enemies at all...but is worth a look."
Akilya Wisebrook:
The ottermaid raises her paw with youthful eagerness that doesn't quite fit the mature scholar image she tries to promote. "I wish to go!"
Tarran:
Tarran rises to his feet. "I'm not staying here and looking after the dibbuns."
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket laughs slightly...laughing at Akilya.
Weston:
Weston leans over to whisper in Tarran's ear. "Mayhap another sword will come your way, sirrah."
Cirofléta:
Ciro glances at the ermine. "Perhaps not our enemies, but I must find out for sure."
Feverfew:
"You'd be lonely without us, Tarran."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She glares the ermine. "What do you find funny, stoat?"
Kenlock:
"I will not go," says the otter as he steps out of the shadows. "This is not my abbey, nor my problem. However, if south is the road you must take, then I will accompany you for some time."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Why you, Akilya...your youthful eagerness to experience adventure and possible battle."
Tarran:
"Wot do you mean another sword?" Tarran folds his arms crossly "And I'm never lonely."
Feverfew:
"You wouldn't miss us?" She pouts.
Weston:
Weston glares at the ermine. "Pray, sirrah, leave the maid be. Adventure may not be all that it claims, but all should be free to discover it for themselves."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She sniffs, disdain clear in the gesture, and decides to ignore both mouse and ermine.
Tarran:
"I'd miss you 'cause then they'd make me look after the little brats all by myself."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Let me do as I wish, Weston."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Prissy brat..." The ermine growls slightly.
Tarran:
"Stupid vermin." Tarran growls slighty.
Eroket Nightblade:
"If you want a fight, Tarran. This one'll be happy to oblige!"
Feverfew:
"Well, then, I guess I should come after all. Besides, I bet none of you know an ounce about healing."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She glares at him once and sets her jaw, forcing herself to ignore the foolish vermin.
Narrator:
"Well, then. We shall get you prepared to leave this very day, to go out, and to convince these rebels that Martin's way is a way of peace, not of pillaging or war!" says the Abbess.
Weston:
Weston steps between the mouse and the ermine. "Fighting is forbidden on abbey grounds, sirrah. You are a guest here. Pray calm thyself down."
Tarran:
"You'd be laying in little bits before too long, anyway." Tarran Mutters
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket smiles at the ottermaid again. "You'll see a difference between reality and your precious books, shortly...ever see a beast die, otter?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro, new to the Abbey and not all familiar with their rules, draws her dirk and shouts at the ermine and mouse. "Will you both just shut up? Especially you, stoat!"
Kenlock:
"Calm yourself 'friend', she will see the ways of the outside soon enough," Kenlock says quietly to Eroket.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's anger overtakes him as he jumps up. "Dinnae draw steel if you don't think to use it!"
Eroket Nightblade:
"If you can use it even..."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She pointedly ignores Eroket.
Cirofléta:
"You want to try me?!"
Narrator:
"Don't draw anything but a very, very happy self portrait, or you won't go ANYWHERE!" screams the Abbess.
Tarran:
Tarran immediately begins to like Ciro.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's amber eyes seem to flash at her anger. "Temper, temper..."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Why so upset?"
Narrator:
"Because you are being irrational, and angry. Now calm down, and don't provoke creatures. 'tis not kind."
Weston:
Weston steps toward the abbess, 'accidentally' shoving an elbow towards Eroket's stomach as he does so. "I am ready to go, lady Abbess."
Eroket Nightblade:
"This one is perfectly calm...twas she who drew her blade on me."
Cirofléta:
Ciro brings the dirk up in anger, but slams it point-first into a tabletop. "I'll be sure to keep my eye on you, vermin!" she spits.
Narrator:
"Good. Wes, would you gather up some supplies while I drag Ciro and Eroket to the side for a moment?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's calm demeanor is back as he replies evenly. "Vermin?"
Weston:
"As you command, lady abbess." The squirrel bows and heads for the kitchen.
Eroket Nightblade:
"A term deemed by the ignorant...when have you seem such 'evil' acts from my kind?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's tone is even, his manner eserved, completely calm...a sign he's enraged.
Tarran:
"I'm ready too," says Tarran, who 'accidentally' steps on the vermin's foot as he follows Weston to the kitchen. "but I want some breakfast first."
Narrator:
The abbess cuts off the Ermine by reaching up, grabbing his ear, and Ciro's, and shuffling them off to the side.
Cirofléta:
"Ouch!"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket grins at her discomfort.
Cirofléta:
Ciro glares venomously past her facepaint. "Stoats helped kill my family, you....you...."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Apologies...and I'm an ermine."
Narrator:
"Now, you two, quit your bickering. You're going to be walking and talking together for a long while, and I don't want you to do the Rebels work for them in destroying your peaceful mission. So you two will be kind, and you will be generous, despite whatever has predisposed each of you against each other. Understood?"
Kenlock:
Kenlock takes after Weston--greatly needing to have a small word with him.
Akilya Wisebrook:
The ottermaid heads off to the dorms to go pack.
Cirofléta:
"Same thing."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Those were evil deeds by evil stoats...but I am not those stoats."
Narrator:
The abbess twists both of their ears. "Understood?"
Eroket Nightblade:
"And it was your own species that slaughtered my family." He doesn't add 'thanks to me.' however.
Tarran:
Tarran emerges from the kitchen, with a bowl of candied chessnuts in his paws, on his way to get dressed.
Cirofléta:
"Ow..." normally Ciro is polite, but now her temper has been flared and she wrenches away from the Abbess.
Cirofléta:
"I am not an Abbeybeast and neither is he! I will co-exist, but if he puts a paw wrong....!"
Eroket Nightblade:
"I will not do anything to harm you, Ciro...nor the others."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Ciro...I sympathize with you and your family...my own met a similar fate."
Narrator:
"Good, then. You may not be an Abbeybeast, but you are in the Abbey, and you will be helping us out, so I'd appreciate your kindness, and a few bits of forgiveness. It's this sort of behavior which has angered those rebels so..."
Cirofléta:
"You don't know what happened to my family!" Ciro stalks off, pulling her dirk out of the table and sitting well away from the ermine.
Eroket Nightblade:
"Were they butchered? Tortured? overwhelmed? Caught off guard perhaps?"
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya returns downstairs with a fairly large and bulky pack on her broad shoulders. She carries it as if it weighs nothing, however--she may be a scholar but she still has an otter's strength.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket carries only his weapons, cloak, clothes and food.
Eroket Nightblade:
Plus several books
Eroket Nightblade:
The ermine glances at Ciro. "Were they caught off guard? Tortured? ButchereD? Overwhelmed?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro does her best to ignore the ermine and all the painful memories his words bring.
Eroket Nightblade:
"It happened to me as well."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Does my species make it right for genocide? Were the 'goodbeasts' justified in slaying the 'vermin'?
Tarran:
"Course not." says Tarran, slightly shocked. "I break too many, so they don't let me wash them anymore."
Scuzbo:
"Abbess Rosefur, what's going on?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro finally shoots up and aims a strike at the ermine's face. "Shut up! Shut up!!!"
Kenlock:
"Weston was it?" The broad otter calls out to the squirell, as they go down to the kitchens.
Weston:
Weston turns. "That is my name, sir. I do not believe I know you, however?"
Kenlock:
"And my affairs and I are none of your business... However, you may call me Kenlock."
Weston:
Weston continues towards the kitchen. "What is it you require, sir Kenlock?"
Kenlock:
Kenlock pulls Weston to the side. "Listen... The only reason I am going with you on this.. 'quest' is so that I may have some protection. Right now half of the mercenaries in all of Mossflower are looking for me."
Kenlock:
"So, I will only travel with you for some time. And then I shall depart and go my own path."
Weston:
Weston's eyebrow quirks up. "Will not a larger party attract more attention? And it is not in my nature to perform the task of bodyguard for those who are not my friends."
Kenlock:
"Nay, I agree with you. But I will be a great help for if you need it."
Weston:
Weston, entering the kitchen, begins to fill some handy haversacks with food.
Kenlock:
The otter follows Weston into the kitchens.
Scuzbo:
"Going on a picnic Mr. Wes?"
Weston:
Weston turns. "Nay, sirrah. A journey. The abbess should be able to tell thee more. Excuse me."
Kenlock:
Kenlock places his hand on Weston's shoulder. "I do not ask for protection, but for cover. Mercenaries would not expect me to be going anywhere with goodbeasts."
Weston:
The squirrel turns back to his task, tossing a handful of sacks to Kenlock. "If you wish my help, you shall have to return the favor. Fill these."
Kenlock:
Kenlock grins and goes about his task.
Tarran:
Moments later Tarran arrives back in the kitchen, with his bowls of chessnuts, now half empty, still in his paws.
Feverfew:
Feverfew has popped up to the infirmiry to throw together a makeshift medicine bag, her one prominant talent being healing. She comes back down to the kitchen fully dressed and ready to leave. She looks around and sees Tarran. "Mmm, chestnuts!"
Tarran:
"You want some?"
Feverfew:
"If you don't mind sharing," she says, popping a pawful into her mouth.
Tarran:
"Actually," says Tarran, "I don't normally share. But I'm stuffed."
Feverfew:
"How can you be? Been raiding the kitchens at night?"
Tarran:
"Nah. I raid them just after dinner, when th' cooks are eating and before somebeast comes in to wash the dishes."
Feverfew:
"But you don't wash the dishes while you're here?"
Feverfew:
Feverfew hops up onto the counter and start tossing loaves of bread to Kenlock.
Feverfew:
"Hmm, I should try that," she says, grinning, to Tarran.
Kenlock:
In a split second, Kenlock swings his spear over, knocking one of the loaves across the room.
Akilya Wisebrook:
Akilya wanders around with her bulky pack until she comes within earshot of Tarran and Feverfew. A smile quirks at her mouth. "So that's how you manage it!" she says with a laugh. "Clever."
Narrator:
"Hello, Scuzbo...We are preparing Wes and everyone else for their journey to Southsward, to try to stop the rebels there"
Kenlock:
"Erm... uh... Sorry."
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket grabs her paw. "Aswer me! Is it justified because we are the 'vemrin' you hate so?"
Tarran:
"I know, aren't I?" says Tarran.
Scuzbo:
"Oh, what's Eroket and Ciro bickering about?"
Akilya Wisebrook:
She smirks. "Only on very rare occasions. Usually you are simply an idiot."
Weston:
Weston chuckles at Akilya's remark and hefts a pair of packs. Putting one on his own back, he throws the other at Tarran. "You shall want this, knave."
Cirofléta:
She glares. "Is is justified to kill my kind because they weren't vermin?"
Eroket Nightblade:
"Why were they killed, Ciro?"
Eroket Nightblade:
"A random group of bandits? Seeking to appease only themselves?"
Cirofléta:
"Because the vermin leader wanted some fun! That's why! Now let me go!"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket's grip stays "First let me say one thing."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Don't judge me for the acts of my species. I will not judge you for the acts of your own."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Your own race butchered innocents...as mine have. Remember that." Eroket's paw opens as he releases her arm
Narrator:
"Grr...They're arguing about stupid things again...one moment."
Kenlock:
The otter picks up the loaf and sets it in a sack. "These past days... I have been, tense--ever on my guard."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She eyes the packs. "I do not have to carry one of those, do I?" The ottermaid hefts her own pack, an overfull thing that's almost dwarfing her powerful frame.
Tarran:
Tarran glares at Akilya. The pack of food lands on the floor beside him.
Weston:
Weston eyes the ottermaid. "What is in thy pack, milady? Books? I think mayhap you shall want food, instead."
Narrator:
Calling down to the kitchens, Abbess Rosefur asked, "Are we all ready?"
Scuzbo:
"Scuse me Wes, but It's kinda boring to stay in the abbey while all of you are off adventuring, may i join the party?"
Akilya Wisebrook:
She offers him a sheepish grin. "Well... a couple books. Several blank scrolls, some inks, a few quill pens, some clothes, a few herbs, some maps..."
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket nods. "Quite ready...
Eroket Nightblade:
He looks to Akilya. "You really need all that, Akilya?"
Feverfew:
"Some of us are, anyway, Mother."
Weston:
Weston smiles lightly and gestures at one of the food packs. "You can take what you can carry, milady- remember that you cannot eat scrolls, nor drink ink."
Kenlock:
Kenlock's eyes suddenly stare into space, and his mind wanders to the past. He grips his spear tightly, and then moves his other hand down to the war hammer hanging from his belt.
Kenlock:
At the that motion, all seems resolved and the otter relaxes.
Narrator:
"Good." The Abbess smiles. "When you are all set, please meet us all on the Abbey Grounds!"
Weston:
Weston turns to Scuzbo. "As you will, milord, as you will. Bring a pack if you are coming."
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket smiles. "Akilya...is taking all that necessary?"
Narrator:
with that, the Abbess glides out of the Great Hall.
Akilya Wisebrook:
She nods. "Oh, yes! I am the recorder's apprentice, am I not? I shall be recording our journey. And the maps will be useful... and I will still need to study..."
Kenlock:
Kenlock then makes his way quickly back to where the others were preparing.
Eroket Nightblade:
"Best just take a few scrolls and some ink..."
Scuzbo:
Scuzbo picks a pack of food off the kitchen floor and follows everyone outside.
Tarran:
Tarran yawns, "I hate studying."
Eroket Nightblade:
"Want me to carry any of that, Akilya?"
Cirofléta:
Ciro takes up her own pack that she had constantly prepared in case of emergencies. "Some food, fresh paint and a whetstone. All I need."
Weston:
Weston, shifting his pack so it rides more comfortably, heads up towards the abbey grounds, calling back over his shoulder, "Very well, then, Akilya, but I hope that you can live on knowledge."
Feverfew:
Feverfew shrugs on a pack and follows the others.
Tarran:
Tarran follows Feverfew, but without shrugging on a pack.
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket replies. "akilya...want me to carry any of that for you?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket waits outside with the others as he says. that.
Akilya Wisebrook:
"I do not need help from the likes of you," she says with a disdainful sniff.
Eroket Nightblade:
"May I be given a fair chance? I apologize for earlier."
Kenlock:
Holding his spear with his right hand, Kenlock pulls his hood over his head with the other. His face is that of a slab of cold stone as he stares at the others. "Lets go."
Scuzbo:
"Where are we heading again?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket picks up his small packs, donning his black cloak. "At leadt give me a chance, otter...don't judge on what you knpoow in books..."
Akilya Wisebrook:
She hmphs and shoves past him, stalking outside without waiting for the others.
Narrator:
"I wish all of you good luck on your journey, and hope that these rebels will be persuaded by your arguments. Best of luck to all of you!" says the Abbess. With that having been said, the Questors go off, on a journey sure to be filled with peril.
Weston:
Weston looks to the Abbess. "This appears to be all of them. May we go?"
Eroket Nightblade:
Eroket smiles and exits the gates, his fangs bared in a cold, unnerving grin.