[Ashrien: I think… Ash was told to TAKE THE GODDAMN DAY OFF and get some rest, they aren’t that short of healers and it’s good to let em recharge. Did Netha lurk with him or did she go do kite flyi— er Mogu-shootin’?
Jelleneth: Hmmmm… I think she opted to lurk. She could use some rest too. And lazy day of snuggling sounds grand.]
Civ lolsob via Cracked — Net says many things from this Cracked feature are on the horrible (rapey/sexist/homophobic/whatever) end of the internet spectrum, but this one was funny. And sad.
Pallas cat fluffiness + lion cub being chatty - WEIT cattiness
Daily Blink: Hearthstone Cards We’d Like to See - there was another later one on the two people in the world who don’t like Hearthstone, also worth a peek!
Oatmeal comic: Tipping and Tooting - Why yes, yes this did make me think of Amy…
Chemistry of Kibble - nonsciency treatment but surprisingly entertaining. And now I know why greenies are KITTY CRACK.
Phenomena on Epigenetics of the Placenta - this seemed a lot less sensationalistic than many things I’ve read on epigenetics. But neat!
PLEASE SAY YOU WILL, IT WILL BE AWESOME. - Don’t worry, I’m not proposing to you.
One of the earliest natural history books about China. Jesuit Missionary author. (obviously includes some non-Chinese {and non-floral}species). This image: Fenghoang (Avis regia) and the “forest chicken”. (1656)
Torian is leaning on the railing, staring out at the sea.
Ashrien approaches silently — then, again, a conscious bit of noise-making. He stays where he is, near the rigging, and waits.
Torian doesn’t turn though his ear flicks in that direction. “Good evening, Sir Dawnforged.”
Ashrien mmfs. “Evening, Lord Dawnsinger. Is everything well with you?”
Torian does turn his head a bit now, sardonic smile on his lips. “The nausea has passed. I am merely taking in the view.”
Ashrien nods. “I’m glad you’re settling in.” And he does sound pleased. “Still, I’ll keep helpful potions stocked for a while yet. No telling if we’ll hit some rough seas.”
Torian huffs. “I think it might well please our orcish friends if we did. With the winds as slack as they have been these past few days… I have been learning all manner of new phrases I’d never encountered before in polite conversation.”
Ashrien laughs. “Yes, I suppose this has been rather an education for you.” He walks a bit closer to laze against the railing himself.
Torian says, “It has,” but quietly and with an expression as though the taste of the admission is foul on his tongue.
Ashrien chuckles. He’s looking out at the waters, but the other paladin’s well within his side vision. “I suppose once we get back to civilization, you can compose a little phrase-book for the edification of others who have til now mostly been kept in polite society.” There’s a little smile playing about his lips and he glances Torian-ward. “The kid can do illustrations for it, I’m sure.”
Torian grimaces and straightens a bit, hands running across the rail absently. “I don’t know how wide an audience such a book would find. There cannot be too many of us left, can there, who were able to stay so sheltered?”
Ashrien thinks it over. “I’m sure there’s still some. There were officers serving in Dalaran alongside you… no telling where they ended up once the war was over. Must be some in Silvermoon who never left…”
Torian is silent for a long moment, staring at the water, thoughts far away.
Ashrien stretches and resettles against the railing. He’s not going anywhere, it seems.
Torian: [Thalassian] I wasn’t told. Anything. I don’t know if they said anything at all to Aethas. But I doubt it. They left us working in the dark in Dalaran.
Ashrien thinks this over for a bit.
Torian shakes his head, disgustedly. “I only found out what had happened when the city suddenly turned on us. They didn’t throw us out, or attack us, thank the Light. But suddenly everything was cold. And all the work we’d done to build relations… shattered.”
Torian: [Thalassian] I had to return to Silvermoon to even find out why.
Ashrien watches the waters. “And what did you think when you returned, hmm?”
Torian’s hand on the railing clenches a bit before relaxing again, slowly, as he speaks. “I didn’t really have time to process it properly. There were already orders coming across my desk, demanding all the ships under my purview be sent orders to engage Alliance vessels near Tol Barad or Tanaris. My thoughts were otherwise occupied, as you can imagine.”
Ashrien nods. “Horde war machine eats everythin’ like it did Azshara,” he says. “I suppose now you’ve had some time to think, however.”
Torian nods. “I’ve had little else to occupy my time with.”
Ashrien: And what do you think now, your grace?
Torian’s shoulders stiffen at the title, and do not relax again as he speaks, the tone bitter and angry. “It would seem that perhaps Ilthus had the right of it all along. And I have spent the past decade building paper houses in a world that no longer exists.”
Ashrien lets out his breath. “Easy now, I meant no offense by that. Light’s truth. Most nobles prefer bein’ reminded that I remember their position — I just feel bad calling you Dawnsinger, seeing as there’s two others here who answer to it as well…” His voice is soft and apologetic, and his ears flick back uneasily. But he takes another deep breath and moves on. “I won’t tell Ilthus you said that, of course. And I wouldn’t necessarily say your time was wasted, even if now you feel your goals were misjudged.”
Torian: [Thalassian] And what good does a bit of it do? Having rank and authority among a servant race? And that is what we have become in this ‘New Horde’ make no mistake.
Torian’s anger is still quite hot. But it isn’t really being directed at Ash.
Ashrien stares back out at the water. “Well, I’m speaking purely from self-interest here, but it gave your sister this ship… though at the moment I’ll understand f’ you can’t see that as a positive. But yes, that is how they see us, how they use us.”
Ashrien …mmfs, shoulders slumping a bit. “I suppose I never thought much of it, since it’s more or less — I never had expectations of it bein’ different.”
Torian softens a bit. “She’s doing well. Better than I expected, all things considered. As lax as her reports made the running of the ship seem…”
Torian: [Thalassian] Well, I’ve been pleasantly surpised by how efficient the crew has been. And how devoted.
Ashrien smiles faintly. “I’m glad it was a pleasant surprise, I suppose. But think on it, you gave Ilthus a safe place to — expend his energy. And Quel’wythar’s got away from Quel’thalas, which can only do him good in my mind.”
Ashrien: Your work in the city accomplished this.
Torian quirks a brow, amused it would seem. “You know, when I first sent them to the ship as crew I’d intended for them to act as my eyes here. I suppose I underestimated Jelleneth’s ability to foster loyalties. Or overestimated Lord Quel’wythar’s bitterness at being spurned.”
Ashrien doesn’t laugh. Nope. “Expecting Ilthus to side with you over her was… well, I don’t know how they were in those days, but you honestly expected him to keep her out of trouble?”
Torian: [Thalassian] I expected him to keep her safe. And I thought that perhaps… given time, she and Jessian would…
Torian shakes his head. “I miscalculated many things. It hardly matters now.”
Ashrien considers this. “I think they might have, given time. If I hadn’t…” He gestures, expression unreadable for a moment. Then it clears and he offers another wry smile.
Torian loks back out to sea again. “Quel’wythar puts no blame on you for that. Nor shall I. It is not my place to determine who my sister should love.”
Ashrien turns to lean back against the railing. “She still might, you know. I’d understand f’ she did… but that’s not here nor there.”
Torian turns to give the other elf a long looking over.
Ashrien raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”
Torian looks away again, something very like pain behind his eyes. “You’re stronger then than I.” It’s a murmur, but audible.
Ashrien is silent for a bit. He glances to Torian, then away, then turns to look back to sea again.
Torian is equally silent, watching the waves, lost in memories that do not look to be pleasant ones.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I dunno it has to do with strength. More like an understanding that nothin’ ever lasts, good or bad. I mean, fel, all loves come to an end eventually. Death f’ nothin’ else. And I can’t bear the thought of tryin’ to trap her with me if she…
Ashrien shrugs and looks back at Torian, but he doesn’t finish that thought.
Torian’s eyes squeeze shut for a moment. When he opens them again, the emotion seems to have passed. “She chose well,” he says softly.
Ashrien shrugs again. “I hope so. Try to make it so. Not much else I know of I can do.”
Torian: [Thalassian] I can take some comfort, I suppose, from my apparent legacy. Even if the comfort is a bit cold.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Legacy? You’re a bit, ah, alive to be thinkin’ in those terms yet.
Torian: [Thalassian] I cannot say how long that will last when we reach Tanaris. I’m not much use in sailing the vessel, but as a marine I could, at least, help to keep an enemy from boarding. I’ll be with the orcs, it seems, when the time comes.
Ashrien straightens, jaw tightening and eyes hardening. “That their idea?” he asks, and his voice is still soft but there’s a coldness there now.
Torian nods. “Durok has all but said as much. And he has a point. I really do not serve much of a purpose here outside of combat. But I -can- fight. I am almost looking forward to his expression when the time comes to prove it.”
Ashrien looks back to the water, silent for a few beats. “I suppose I envy you that,” he murmurs at last.
Torian quirks a brow. “Envy what, exactly?”
Ashrien hesitates. “I still — I don’t know where I’ll be, come any actual fighting. D’you know, I’ve never been a healer somewhere I was supposed to want living men to die? In Icecrown, if it was theoretically alive…” He shrugs and isn’t able to meet Torian’s eyes.
Torian’s eyes soften, and he shakes his head. “And that is what I meant, Sir Dawnforged, when I said that your hands are cleaner than mine.”
Ashrien has to laugh at that, but it’s quiet and sad. “You forget how late I came to the Light, sir. I was in plenty of fights before that, but things are different now.”
Torian: [Thalassian] And these fights. Did they end in death? Elven death? I was not often on the ground in the war in Northrend. But I served in Outland. And on Quel’danas. I was a Blood Knight, in the days before the meaning of that changed.
Torian sighs and turns back to the water. “I do not know what I am now.”
Ashrien doesn’t answer right away again. “There were times I would have killed an elf and considered it well justified. Once I would have except some mates stopped me — he was a noble, it was ill-advised. Far as I know, he survived.” There’s a note of bitterness there, old anger not quite forgotten after all these years. “But, see, whenever I fought someone — it was on my own will, my own terms. Much as I could, I arranged my life so I was never called on to murder on the whims of another. And to me this…”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] This war is exactly that. Whims of another, a war-crazed orc at that.
Torian nods. “Just so. And we are dragged along in his wake. I do not know if any of us will survive it.”
Ashrien almost reaches out toward him, perhaps for a friendly arm-clasp or shoulder-clap, but he pulls himself back. “And this, my friend, is why we move into survival mode. Wait it out. Focus on not dyin’ today, nor tomorrow, nor tomorrow. It is survivable.”
Torian turns to look at him, studying again. “And this, I take it, is my sister’s plan? Simply to survive?”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I can’t speak for her. But I’m fairly certain this is part of our long-term goal, yes. It’s a bit hard to have a house in the country, breedin’ hippogryphs and dragonhawks an’ havin’ babies of our own if we’re dead.
Ashrien pauses. “Well, I suppose there’s always being part of the solution to the problem of the Forsaken, but safe to say we’d both prefer not to go there.”
Torian actually winces at that and is silent for a long moment.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] D’you have a bigger plan in mind?
Torian sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Sadly, no. Though I would favor having the whole of our nation survive this current crisis. And with our heart intact.”
Ashrien nods. “I’d prefer that as well, but there’s precious little we can do for it here. Look — if you want to get back to Quel’thalas, I’m sure once we reach Tanaris somethin’ could be arranged…”
Torian falls silent for a long moment, words seeming to form behind his lips before being swallowed back down again.
Ashrien waits. He’s patient.
Torian finally manages words, though they’re spoken softly, and seem to pain him coming out. “There’s nothing for me there.”
Ashrien doesn’t hold himself back this time. He reaches out to give the other knight’s arm a gentle squeeze.
Torian shrugs out of the healer’s grip, though not with any force or anger in the movement. “Nothing I was attempting to accomplish before Theramore has any purpose now. There would simply be an empty house, and worry over my family.”
Ashrien lets him go. His hand settles back on the railing. “If only we could trade the orcs for Dori, hmm?”
Torian sighs. “Seldorin, at least, I know to be safe. And trust in young Keenblaze’s ingenuity to keep him so, whatever dangers may descend on Ratchet.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Hah, well, the kid is good at survivin’ and he has his priorities pretty straight. You jus’ need to make sure your other baby brother an’ sister are in one piece?
Torian laughs with more than a bit of irony. “A thing they seem to have been managing better in my absence than ever they could have done under my direction. But yes.”
Ashrien looks back at the water. He’s smiling a bit, more pleased than amused. “Has it ever occurred to you that they might want to make sure you’re in one piece too?”
Torian shakes his head, still chuckling. “And this is what it takes, I suppose. To make us behave like a family again.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Ain’t so strange. Took the Lich King to make the Alliance an’ Horde act like it…
Torian snorts. “And then only barely. Trying to shoot one another from the skies around the very Citadel. Stupidity.”
Ashrien nods. “Well, you expect Ilthus to leave you entirely alone?” He’s not smiling now.
Torian smiles, a fleeting, fragile little thing, but genuine. “No. Never. But if ever either of us were in real danger… I know where he would stand.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Which gets us… right back on that boarding party.
Torian gives him a reassuring smile. “I’ve survived many fights in my day. I’ll survive a few more. Though I may find myself under your tender ministrations more often than either of us would prefer.”
Ashrien mnfs. “Maybe I should jus’ get it over with. Be right there with the lot of you. I ain’t bad with a blade.”
Torian: [Thalassian] Not the most sound of tactics. Sending our lone medic into the heart of the fray. Who’s going to patch you up if they get in a lucky shot, hmm?
Ashrien shrugs. “The troll?”
Torian looks confused for a moment. “But the troll is not…” Click click click go the wheels behind Torian’s eyes. “… a shaman?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Then Duruk is not merely paranoid. These winds are more than unseasonable. They are unnatural.”
Ashrien earquirks. “F’ he’s gettin’ suspicious of us we best find a new fork to stick in his cogs, as the kid would say. Or does he have other things to blame?”
Torian is grinning now like a schoolboy watching a prank about to unfold. “Oh, you know orcs. They’ll fashion an Alliance conspiracy to blame for every time they stub their toe.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Plainly it’s some Alliance… sea-witch, hm? Prob’ly the worgen, you heard what they did to their own Gilneas.
Ashrien is managing a straight face.
Torian shakes his head again, still smiling, but looking a bit dazed. “Stall and survive…”
Ashrien nods. “Yes. Exactly. With as little danger to us as possible. Be a different matter entirely if it was a, you know. War worth… worth it.”
Torian: [Thalassian] And used sparingly this tact could last us quite some time.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Til we find somethin’ better to do, or our guests decide to try a different vessel in hopes it ain’t cursed… say, maybe they need to hear about what happened to some former crew. Might give em ideas.
Torian frowns darkly. “Oh, I’m sure the orcs could find use for a ‘Cursed Ship.’ If we’re lucky they’d only send us out with a crew of Forsaken marines and a few buckets full of plague to find the Alliance fleet.”
Ashrien thinks this over. “I suppose so. Ain’t so sure it’d be worse than a crew of orcs… though orcs are easier to…” He gestures, puppetmaster.
Torian: [Thalassian] Ad the orcs do place some value on their own lives. Less than they place on their ‘honor’, of course. But enough to avoid truly suicidal risks.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Their honor is such a queer thing. Ain’t like honor as Ilthus’d understand it from the Row, nor as you’d know it as a nob…
Ashrien leans over the railing, thoughtful now.
Torian joins him, watching the water lap against the ship. “I’m not sure if the orcs themselves really understand just what they mean when they day the word. I think that may be part of the problem.”
Ashrien mms. “I wonder if it’s because of how much they’ve lost of their own, you know, culture. I wonder f’ our kids an’ grandkids will be so confused over what it is to be an elf.”
Torian smiles with that same hint of irony in it. “That’s a thing you’ll need to worry on. I doubt that I ever will.”
Ashrien glances back at him. “You’ve so little concern for your nieces an’ nephews then?”
Torian returns the gaze levelly. “I have a strange suspicion that were I ever to declare any intention to insure that my future nieces and nephews grew up with a proper knowledge of elven culture I would suddenly find myself with very limited access to them.”
Torian: [Thalassian] Or am I wrong in that assumption?
Ashrien …doesn’t quite know how to answer that. “I s’pose your intentions would matter rather a lot. Things have changed much this past while. Would you want to prepare em for a life at court? Buildin’, as you said, paper houses?”
Torian sighs and turns back to the water again. “I honestly cannot answer that. Who’s to say what being an elf will even mean to those of us still living by the time you get round to trying to teach that lesson to new ones.”
Ashrien nods, but it’s more to himself than to Torian. “That you’re thinkin’ on it… Don’t think so harshly of yourself. I feel by the time it matters… well. There ought to be no reason to keep you apart from fillin’ an uncle’s place. No reason at all.”
Torian quirks a brow. “And this is a thing yu have discussed with my sister?”
Ashrien shakes his head. “We’ve had our hands full with other matters, you understand.” His lips quirk. “An’ as I said, I can’t speak for her, but I can tell you what I feel. Would you have me discuss it with her?”
Torian: [Thalassian] This hardly seems the time for such a discussion. Nor does the proper time seem to be approaching with any pressing urgency.
Ashrien shakes his head again. “Won’t til we’re… settled, you know. An’ she decides she wants to. But Torian, d’you really think if you go on actin’ as family… she could wish to cut you out?”
Torian’s gaze drops again. “Her definition of that… does not always mesh well with mine.”
Ashrien nods. “I s’pose it doesn’t. I might be an over-optimistic fool.”
Torian tentatively reaches a hand out towards Ash’s shoulder for a slightly awkward pat. “I am… less optimistic than I could be. It seems the story of my sister and I for quite some years now has been one of pulling away.”
Ashrien doesn’t pull away. He offers the younger knight an almost playful smile. “Ah, but right now neither of you can pull away anywhere. You’re stuck. S’ the perfect time to come to terms.”
Torian laughs. “Perfect is not the word I would have used. But perhaps I can see the opportunity to do so as a silver lining to this mess.”
Ashrien offers a playful shoulder-punch, much as he would to Chryseth… though a bit less carefully restrained. “I hope you’ll forgive me for bein’ a bit grateful you’re here.”
Torian seems surprised at that. “Grateful, how?”
Ashrien earquirks and raises an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re solid with a blade. But there’s also — this. Wartime makes things different. Being able to talk to you like this — Ilthus and Netha will feel it too.”
Torian smirks. “Nothing to bring a family together like a common enemy. Perhaps that’s why the orcs are always on the lookout for one, hmm?”
Ashrien laughs bitterly. “Tis. Else what becomes of the clans? What becomes of the Horde with nothin’ to hold it together? There go the trolls, there go the Forsaken…” He lifts a hand, fingers fluttering in the air.
Torian: [Thalassian] I wonder sometimes if the orcs would mind that so much. Having a Horde that was only themselves and the Tauren. Of course… they’d have to wipe the rest of us out as well.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Maybe they’ll get it into their heads. We’ll see, I s’pose. They’d like well enough to be without -us-…
Torian nods. “And the Forsaken as well, I’d imagine. Though they’re a stronger force than we are, in terms of military potential. According to orcish tactics, at least.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Well, there’s more of em. An’ they’re breeding.
Ashrien makes a bit of a face.
Torian: [Thalassian] Garrosh may have bitten off more than he can chew in this war. Sending the Forsaken into battle will only swell their numbers. And when they’re strong enough to rout the orcs…
Ashrien nods. “If she decides to move against him. An’ she might, if she felt provoked.”
Torian frowns. “I don’t think provocation is even needed. Sylvanas does not keep her people in the Horde out of loyalty.”
Ashrien shakes his head. “No, but — movin’ against the orcs might be less pressing than moving against… other people.”
Torian: [Thalassian] I suppose it would depend on how far gone she is. How much elf remains in her, if any. Not a thing I am happy depending on for our continued safety. And we are, sadly, a very soft target. If she should ever decide to ‘reclaim’ her former people.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Exactly so. Mnnf. Survive, outlast, endure…
Torian nods. “And so we shall. One day at a time.”
Ashrien smiles. “Exactly so,” he says again, quiet and pleased. “You’ll be all right, Sir Dawnsinger.”
Jelleneth sits, staring off into space and working her dragonhawk pendant between her thumb and forefinger. Her attention flicks to the door as Ash enters, but she says nothing, just watches him, almost anxiously.
Ashrien pauses on the threshold and watches her back for a moment, ears flicking forward as he studies her face. He looks tired, nothing more, but offers a little smile.
Jelleneth lets the pendant fall back to it’s usual place, not bothering to tuck it back into her shirt and rises to greet him, hand outstretched.
Ashrien moves in, taking her hand and leaning down to give it a quick kiss. “S’ all right, Netha?” he murmurs.
Jelleneth shakes her head, leaning past him to nudge the door closed. She lets out a slow breath into the blessed silence that falls after the click. “No. It isn’t. But you know that already.”
Ashrien nods. His eyes haven’t left her face. “We’ll get by,” he says, voice still low.
Jelleneth nods, eyes still closed. Something like a smile flickers across her lips before she leans in to rest her head against his chest. “Don’t suppose we could convince Duruk and all his men to serve as the boarding party on our first engagement…”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] And then just sail away quick like once they’re off the ship?
Ashrien pulls her close and wraps his arms around her. He’s moving slowly, almost lazily. Be easy to evade if she wanted. “I dunno if I’d wish em on the Alliance,” he says. “We could drug em and toss em overboard though.”
Jelleneth huffs out a breath, almost a laugh. “Don’t tempt me. I’d have already had you brewing something up if I thought we could get away with it.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] An’ what makes you think we couldn’t, hm?
Ashrien brushes a hand through her hair.
Jelleneth looks up at him, eyes tired and sad. “And where would we go? After. Higher ups in the Horde know we had troops sent aboard. We’d be writing our own death warrants showing back up in any Horde territory after those men just.. vanished.”
Ashrien nibbles his lip. He looks thoughtful — these are problems but they’re not insurmountable. “Depends on what sort of story and evidence trail we make to explain what happened to em. Accidents happen at sea all the time. I — I wouldn’ expect you to want to wreck the Sapphire over this, mind.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] If it’s a choice between that or sailing her into a pointless war and watching my family die over it, I’ll run her onto the rocks myself.
Ashrien hugs her close again. He doesn’t speak for several moments. “I don’t want anyone to die over any of this, not even a handful of orcs. But it ain’t as if they’ll listen to me.”
Jelleneth relaxes into his arms with a sigh that’s only mildy frustrated. “Not bloody likely to listen to any of us, I imagine. Have a bit of sway with his Duruk on account of his brother. But that won’t last if I start acting too ‘elfy’ and ‘soft’ for his liking.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] You know orcs better’n I do by far. They didn’ have much use for the Argents.
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Peaceful cooperation is a foreign concept to most of them. Fel… I think if they ever did manage to achieve their goals and just took the whole of the world for themselves they’d have to find a new one to conquer the next week.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Or work on their infightin’. Different clans and all… they wouldn’t keep peace long amongst themselves.
Jelleneth nods, frowning. “I wonder sometimes, what they were like in the days before the Legion found them. I suppose only the draenei would remember that anymore.”
Ashrien shrugs. “As many draenei as were left alive by them, hm? Even if they were kinder an’ gentler then, it does us little good now.”
Jelleneth sighs and steps back a pace. “I know. I’ve mostly been… reacting, today. Caught me off guard. And I didn’t want to -plan- anything without being able to run it past you. Would like to put it to everyone, but that sort of meeting would be a bit much.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] F’ you need things planned, I can catch the others as time permits. If we have time.
Ashrien studies her face.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] What d’ you intend?
Jelleneth runs a hand through her hair. “A bit stuck, truth be told. If it were just us with orders to join the fight, or else.. we could just ride it out. Hit a few supply ships, maybe. Harass the humans without butchering any of them..”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] And then conveniently run aground on an island someplace to wait it out. Bt I doubt the orcs will give us that option.
Ashrien listens thoughtfully. “Well, we could run aground soon enough. Dependin’ on where we’re headin’. Shipwreck ourselves somewhere harmless…”
Jelleneth quirks a brow. “And live with the orcs for however long it takes some passing ship to spot us?”
Ashrien shakes his head. “I doubt they’d settle to live with us for long. Maybe if we were nearish some, some supply lines.” His lips quirk in a sudden smile. “Or we signal the kid to come get us to safety an’ leave them behind…”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] They wouldn’t stay stranded forever. And we’d make some bitter, vengeful enemies there. Of course… any path we take now aside from war is going to have that result.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] So it’s the war then.
Ashrien leans back on his heels and slips his hands behind his back, expression going distant and thoughtful.
Jelleneth frowns. “That or we just.. fall off. Go into hiding. Between the griffs and Tyr we could slip those we care about off the ship and just leave them to it. We’d be deserters… but that’s a far lesser crime. One they wouldn’t actively hunt us for.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Still a hell of a price to ask Tor to pay, though. Coming with us, or staying here.
Ashrien nods. “No, ain’t fair to him at all. An’ we could just… stay. Wouldn’ bother nobody but me, killin’ Alliance…” His gaze shifts away. Floorboards, yes, fascinating.
Jelleneth reaches a hand out to stroke his cheek, but she moves slowly and won’t press if he draws back.”Not just you.”
Ashrien half-closes his eyes. “Mnf. I s’pose Wren is tenderhearted, after all.”
Jelleneth shakes her head, actually managing a chuckle as she pulls away. “Seems my blood-thirsty act up there was better than I thought, if I managed to fool even you.”“
Ashrien gives her a smile. “Well now, I just know you’d do what you needed to. F’ you needed to go against the Alliance for the sake of your family, you would.”
Jelleneth nods slowly, eyes suddenly serious again. “You’re right. I would. But you’re wrong as well, if you think it wouldn’t bother me to have to do so.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] It’d bother you a fine sight less than the alternative. But you still want a third way, a way that don’t mean betrayin’ one thing you care about or another.
Jelleneth nods again. “If we can find it. Then yes. I don’t want to be in this war, at all. Even if I’m just… nicking supplies or scouting out enemy ships. I’m still helping to kill people who deserve a bit of peace after all we’ve all been through.”
Ashrien considers again. “We’ll find somethin’, then,” he murmurs. “I don’ think Quel’wythar will feel any better about this than I do, truth be told. How good is our wind-whistler, anyhow? Could we manage a safe but convincin’ wreck somewhere, if needs be?”
Jelleneth gives that a moment’s thought, then nods. “Easily, I should think. Provided none of the orcs brought aboard have a talent for the same.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] We’ll do some lookin’ and see what skills they’ve got. If they’ve no navigator, even, that’s a big asset in our favor. We could sail in circles a good while.
Ashrien grins mischievously, and there’s a bit of the usual gleam in his eyes again.
Jelleneth grins back at him. “I know of a great big patch of nothing a ways south we could drift into. Tricky winds around the cape, easy to get blown a bit off course on the way.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] So suss em out a few days, see what they got… see if Wren or Quel’wythar or his nibs have bright ideas?
Jelleneth nods, the tension in her shoulders relaxing a bit. “It’s a plan of a sort, at least. We can revise as we go. In the meantime I’ll do my best to stall us joining the fight.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] An’ I’ll get some… potions an’ all ready. For healin’, of course.
Jelleneth smiles and nods. “Some of that as well. We may end up marooned for a spell. Can’t hurt to have some stock put away.”
Ashrien grins. “Some of my special brew, then?” He’s teasing now, mostly. “Wonder if the orcs need any o that…”
Jelleneth grimaces. “Orcish reproduction is a subject I will gladly continue to know absolutely nothing about.”
Ashrien laughs. “I’m sure they do it just as we do. Oh Light, Light, I hope they keep it quiet while they’re aboard. We’ll be all right, we’ve got the soundproofin’, but your poor brothers? An’ Jess?” He winces dramatically.
Jelleneth tilts her head to one side, smile mischievous. “I know he’s been at close quarters with orcs in the past, up in the North. Wonder if that’s what left him so shell-shocked, hmm? Just the sounds from the next bunk over?”
Ashrien looks grave. “I do hope this doesn’ give him a relapse. A breakdown. He might try to steal an Alliance ship an’ pass her off as our own.”
Jelleneth laughs. “Would be a tale to tell back in Orgrimmar, that’s for certain.”
Ashrien grins and winks. “Maybe we should offer him our bed to keep him safe an’ all from any such trauma.”
Jelleneth steps in closer, hands reaching for his. “And traumatize my brothers instead. The pair of us, trying to squeeze into Jess’s bunk together? Or were you just meaning to kick -me- out?”
Ashrien gives her his hands and grins wider. “Oh, mebbe I’m just lookin’ for a chance to get him into my bed — no, no, Netha. I ain’t really, and you know that.”
Jelleneth headtilts. “Course I do. Though I hope you don’t mind overmuch if it’s just cocoa and stories this evening. And the next several. So long as we’re still ‘entertaining guests’.”
Ashrien looks confused very briefly — he hadn’t even been thinking of this, or so it seems. “Course. So long as you wish. I ain’t Wren.”
Jelleneth smiles and leans in for a kiss on the cheek. “I know, love. I know. Should just… trust by now. M’sorry. I’m out of sorts tonight.”
Ashrien closes his eyes again. “No worries, d’ rather you say, hm? Better than silently endurin’ more unpleasantness.”
Jelleneth clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Never unpleasant with you. And you know it. And that’s the why, as well. Wouldn’t be able to enjoy things properly with my nerves all a skitter.” The smile drops a bit.
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] If I end up thrashing at you in my sleep tonight… it’s nothing to do with you.
Ashrien pulls back again, expression troubled. “I wouldn’ generally think it was something to do with me. Tonight or ever. Should I?”
Jelleneth snaps a “No!” before calming a bit and repeating it more softly. “No. Never. I just meant… fel… why am I even saying any of this to you? You’re not Pyrce. Not going to get angry at me for not feeling safe just because you’re here.”
Ashrien draws back a bit at that first, ears forward and eyes widening. Then he relaxes — smiles apologetically — offers her his hand again. “I don’t feel safe myself,” he says. “An’ I’m with me all the time. Why should it be different for you?”
Jelleneth leans into him, nuzzling gently against his chest. “Because I usually do. Not… not safe like I felt as a bitty in my father’s arms. Not innocent, naive safe. But… I trust you. To be ready when the bad things come. To be there, with me, to face them.”
Ashrien mms softly and wraps his arms back around her. “That still doesn’t solve all the problems, doesn’t keep all the nightmares an’ worries away. An’ if I could make everything all right, maybe it’d be different. But fear’s often a signal that somethin’ ain’t right, somethin’ needs fixed, somethin’ needs to change so it ain’t scary any more. Bein’ scared right now is sensible, not weak, not… not an insult to me or anyone else.”
Jelleneth whispers. “Are you scared, Ash?” But she keeps her face burried in his chest, not looking at him, and not pressing for an answer.
Ashrien doesn’t give her one right away. “Rather terrified,” he says finally and with a smile. “I’ve got no good choices, not in this war.”
Jelleneth bites her lip and gives him another little squeeze. “Keep thinking we could have avoided this if I’d just signed up with Rev back when the choice was first offered. But that’s hardly a productive thought, is it?”
Ashrien shakes his head. “I don’t think the Horde would necessarily have respected that. They love the… with us or against us thing,you know? We’re sin’dorei, they think they own us or somethin’.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] And all we wanted was to keep our home safe. And that’s all the Alliance wanted either. At least… before Theramore. Now I imagine there’s more than a few of them that want revenge.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Course they do. Their own children died there. I just…
Ashrien looks away.
Jelleneth lays a hand against his cheek, not to turn his head, just a touch.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] If it comes down to killing them or… standin’ by while those I’m s’posed to take care of are killed…
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Wasn’t planning to send you in with the boarding party, love. If things even get that far. I hope they won’t. But if…
Ashrien: [Thalassian] If they get that far? And our own folk are sent? What’m I to do, Netha?
Jelleneth takes a long, deep breath. “Surrender. I suppose. You can speak Common. Shout at any of them who’ll listen. And I’ll lay my weapons down next to yours.”
Ashrien draws back a bit to look down at her. “Then what happens to your brothers? To Jess? The crew?”
Ashrien ..sounds despairing. Dis pear. Delishus.
Jelleneth ‘s lips purse a bit, but she doesn’t waiver. “Well, this is a contingency we’ll have to brief them on. And they can make their own choice.”
Ashrien takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “They might kill us too, you know. Or refuse to honor a surrender. Or any of a dozen nasty things could happen.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] And that is why this is not our first plan. More of a back up to the back up of the back up plan.
Ashrien nods. That’s something he can deal with.
Jelleneth’s eyes darken a bit. “But if it does come to that. And if they do refuse the surrender. If you say the words and they cut you down anyway… well, you’re just going to have to forgive the bloody swath I cut through them until they take me down as well.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] But that makes it all different, doesn’ it? Fel. Maybe we can just be awful at gettin’ close enough to anyone to board em.
Jelleneth tilts her head at him. “And is it any better, do you think, if they die from cannon fire and drowning instead of an axe or a sword stroke?”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I suppose it depends on how much sabotage we can pull without our guests noticin’.
Jelleneth laughs, though there’s a bit of irony in it. “And after all the bravado I had to spend convincing Duruk that you were too valuable to risk on boarding or on the cannons… “
Ashrien grins. “We’ll jus’ have to let Jess do that part. They’re his babies, eh?”
Jelleneth sighs and shakes her head. “Normally I’d just go with chain shot or the fel cannon to light up the sails. A crippled ship’s no threat. But the orcs are going to want the kill.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] And once we start shootin’ at them, they’ll…
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Shoot back. If we take the risky shots, go for larger targets with heavier guns I may just be able to convince Duruk that crippling the ship is enough. That closing to board would be too dangerous. But that would leave that ship dead in the water for the
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] next Horde warship to find.
Ashrien nods. “Like I said, no good choices. Maybe for any of us here.”
Jelleneth looks away. “And you could be training up new healers in Hearthglen right now if I hadn’t…” It’s almost a whisper. Tired and sad.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Shush. I could also be dead, or drunk in the streets of Silvermoon, or… or… Vereesa Windrunner’s second husband.
Jelleneth does actually manage a smile at that last one. “Oh. I see how it is. You’ll slip a ring on for any pretty lass who waves a bow at you, hmm?”
Ashrien smiles right back. “I suppose it depends on what awful circumstance I got myself into for it to seem like a good idea.”
Jelleneth slips a hand down to twine her fingers with his. “And what awfulness were you in to make this..” she gives the ring a little tap. “..seem like one, hmmm?” Still smiling, teasing, little self-blame spiral temporarily abandoned.
Ashrien smiles wider. “Oh, the awfulness called love an’ wantin’ the sort of future we see together. I know it’s dire.”
Jelleneth ‘s smile buckles a bit. “Promise me we’ll still have it?”
Ashrien leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll do everythin’ I can to bring it to you,” he murmurs. “That much I do swear.”
Jelleneth tilts her head up to steal another kiss. “And I won’t ask for more than you can give, Ash. I promise you that.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I know. Wouldn’ have wanted to marry you otherwise, hmm?
Ashrien smiles crookedly.
Jelleneth smiles back at him as she steps away, moving to her chair to kick her boots off. “Was Tor able to take the apology gracefully, or was he an ass about it?”
Ashrien takes the sudden topic change in stride. “He was most gracious. I just hope I conveyed the appropriate sentiment.” His eyes darken briefly and he looks away again.
Jelleneth doesn’t miss that, and she watches him a bit more closely as she asks the next bit. “What sentiment -did- you convey?”
Ashrien hesitates. “I said — you hoped he would forgive your uncalled-for words, and… you don’ blame him for…”
Ashrien gestures. His attention’s on her, though, and he’s quite clearly anxious.
Jelleneth nods, looking more confused by the anxiety than remotely critical of the words. “Thank you. That was exactly what I intended. Just couldn’t say it myself while I was playing Captain Blood for the benefit of our guests.”
Ashrien relaxes a bit. “Good, good. I just wasn’t sure if — mnf.”
Jelleneth glances away, eartips pinkening a bit. “And I… I knew he wouldn’t try to make you crawl before he’d take it. He… might have tried that with Jess. To no one’s good. So thank you, again. For doing the unpleasant job no one wants.”
Ashrien lets out a soft breath. “I wouldn’t wish that on Jess. Or Wren. An’ if he needed crawling, I know how to do that. Though he said I rank him here.” He snorts, almost a laugh.
Jelleneth quirks a brow at him. “Technically. If this is now, officially a military vessel, you do.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] He’ll forget that the moment it’s convenient for him to do so.
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Most likely. But I won’t. And you don’t have to either.
Ashrien sighs again and heads for the bed. He settles down gracefully, not looking at her.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I s’pose Ilthus will remember it when it’s least convenient for his nibs, hm?
Jelleneth shakes her head with a soft laugh and moves to join him, seating herself near, but not touching. “I’m amazed he’s not waving it in front of him now like a dueling flag.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Wren ranks him too, hm? Poor big brother, gonna be chafin’ at that… I guess we can use this to our advantage. Sooner we’re not a military vessel, sooner he don’t have to listen to any of us.
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Doesn’t rank you at least. Ship’s Medic and Master of the Tops are roughly equal. Though Jess outranks the pair of you. First Mate and all. I… I was going to give her to him, you know? After the run for Rev.
Ashrien nods. He leans closer, shoulder nudging against her leg. “Maybe you can still.” He doesn’t sound too optimistic though. “I don’t mind followin’ his orders, you know. He’s not the blood an’ glory type.”
Jelleneth shakes her head. “And that’s the problem. He’s too much an elf. We’d have a mutiny and an orcish takeover within an hour if I tried to give him command now. Not that I think the orcs would even let that happen. Sorry chaps, love to go off to war with you — but you caught me juuuust about to retire. Bit of bad luck that. But best of luck with the killing of the Alliance Scum, what what?”
Ashrien chuckles. “I wasn’t recommending that. Light, imagine what it’d do to the poor fellow to get abandoned to orcs like that? Nah. Jus’ meant… never minded him outrankin’ me. Even the theory of it an’ not the, you know. How he never really uses it.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Didn’t even use it back in the day. I couldn’t see it then, of course, blinded as I was with adoration but… poor Jess was never much of a Commander. He had rank, of course, in the Rangers. With his House and family there was no question.
Ashrien looks almost fond. “Don’ need to learn to command if people always defer on account of that.”
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] But he really only skated by because his men liked him. If he’d had to give them tough orders… I don’t know he could have. Not then, anyway.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I don’t want to see him try it now. For his own sake. Not these sorts of orders.
Jelleneth frowns and scootches in a bit closer. “I don’t much like having to give them myself.”
Ashrien stretches his arm out, be nice and cozy to lean against. “Well, you could just hand over command of the ship to Torian.” He’s not serious. Probably.
Jelleneth laughs. “Oh that would go well.” Mmm… arm. “I might have put it a bit bluntly, but I meant what I said before. He really knows not a damn thing about sailing, or naval tactics, or even which end of the boat is the stern.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Or how to deal with orcs, hm?
Ashrien snuggles closer.
Jelleneth: [Thalassian] Ilthus might be the best of us for that bit, honestly. And I’ll let him know that as soon as he’s done being pissed at me. Everything I know about orcs I learned from one. And even that didn’t end well.
Ashrien gives her another crooked smile. “Captain Ilthus, hmm?”
Jelleneth smirks back. “Scourge of the High Seas.” The smile turns fond, almost wistful. “Reckon he’d stay on? Keep Jess company? If we get the chance to retire peacefully.”
Ashrien scooches closer and thinks it over. “Mmh, depends on… Hah, I could be wrong, but I kinda think it depends on what he thinks’ll leave him seein’ the kid very often.”
Jelleneth frowns a bit. “I almost hope you’re wrong. For both their sakes.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] We’ll see. I dunno what I hope — but thankfully none of it depends on what I want, so I don’t need to worry about wantin’ the right thing.
Torian is examining the runefridge with a sullen frown on his face.
Ashrien strides in and — pauses briefly, taking in the knight’s stance, the set of his ears. Then he steps forward again, letting his boot heel scrape just barely audibly on the floorboards.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Your lordship.
Torian turns and looks at the medic, eyes wary.
Ashrien keeps a polite distance away. Hands clasped behind his back, expression schooled into polite blankness… this is a far cry from Sir Dawnforged. When he speaks, his voice is proper Thalassian and quite quiet.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] The captain requested I speak with you, if you have a moment.
Torian glances around, possibly checking for orcs, then moves in closer. “I am sorry that she was put in this position. Deeply sorry.” His voice is pitched not to carry.
Ashrien makes a slight gesture — negation? don’t mention it? — at the third word there. “No, your grace, it is she who wishes to have a sincere apology conveyed — she is unable to do it in person, owing to circumstance.” His ear flicks orcward. “She hopes you will forgive her uncalled-for words.”
Ashrien …watches Torian, still blank and polite.
Torian tilts his head slightly, looking Ash over with an almost puzzled expression. “She’s said worse to me before with less cause. It’s enough to know she doesn’t blame me for..” He gestures vaguely in the direction of the hold and the sound of orcish laughter.
Ashrien nods but his face doesn’t really change. “Certainly she doesn’t, your lordship.” He pauses again, ears flickering again minutely. “The sea… moves us all, without respect for planning or station.”
Torian sighs and shakes his head. “The sea… She’s right of course. I’ve never been aboard a ship before while it was moving. I fear my uselessness will only continue.”
Ashrien inclines his head. “Once you’ve found your feet, you’ll be all right. How much more have you overcome in the past? A little shakiness, perhaps some malaise, this is nothing to you.”
Torian nods, though his eyes are still distant. “And then… war. I suppose I should be apologizing to you Dawnforged. Even more than to the Captain. I failed you both.”
Ashrien looks at him, unreacting, perhaps indifferent. “Your grace is kind, but ought not concern himself with one such as me. I will do what I must, and I will not put the captain in danger.”
Ashrien …speaks without apparent reproach.
Torian stiffens slightly. There is a flash of hurt across his eyes, but it’s burried quickly and he shows nothing else. “Very well. I suppose I should see if there is aught I can do to make myself useful.”
Ashrien gestures slightly again — apology, deference. “I meant no offense, your grace, simply that I am truly not worth your worry. Especially with you aboard, I am entirely replaceable. The ship will not lack for a healer if I am incapacitated.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] And of all the crew, I am… Well. I am not your sibling, nor your friend from youth. Your energy can be better spent than on this one.
Torian: [Thalassian] I am no healer. I was once. But the Light has not come gentle to my hands since…
Torian shakes his head, washing the anger and pain from his voice before continuing. “And you. Are family.”
Ashrien takes a half-step closer at that first — then pauses (freezes?) at the rest. He doesn’t reply right away, and though he’s no longer precisely expressionless, he’s probably still unreadable.
Torian moves for a moment as though to put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, but lets it fall again, gesture aborted.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] If the Light… works through one such as me…
Ashrien hesitates again, eyes on Torian’s face, his ears.
Torian closes his eyes, face a mask, but his ears drop, just a bit. “I do not know you, Sir Dawnforged. For me to claim that would be the basest arrogance. But I think perhaps your hands are simply cleaner than mine. In this case.”
Ashrien laughs a little, but it’s not at the other elf. There’s sadness there, and tiredness. “In no way are my hands clean, your lordship. What I feel — but you may not wish for me to speak freely, and I ought to remember my place.”
Torian sounds equally tired when he speaks. “You have more of a place, and more authority to speak freely, aboard this vessel than I have. You outrank me here, Dawnforged. Speak your piece.”
Ashrien pauses again, sizing him up once more. For whatever reason, he actually seems more reluctant to speak now and not less.
Torian does reach out to lay a hand on Ash’s shoulder now, though it’s less a friendly gesture and more an attempt to maintain his balance as the ship begins to move.
Ashrien stays steady and offers Torian his other hand. “I don’t know your circumstances, your grace, but I feel that it is likely the Light will work through you again. The popular thing would be to say ‘if you want it’ or ‘if you need it badly’ — but I feel the popular thing is wrong. Necessity and desire are not the catalyst. What is… is harder to say. But again, I forget my place.”
Torian straightens again and gives Ash a little nod of thanks. “Faith, perhaps?” There’s no mockery in the question, but an undercurrent of loss.
Ashrien gives that some thought, attention shifting inward for a moment — but a shout of laughter from the nearby orcs pulls him out of it. “Some would say so, your grace. I’m not sure it’s so simple as that. When I was young…” Hesitation again, and his gaze rakes Torian over with a sudden intensity.
Torian lets the mask fall a little, curiousity peeking through.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] It isn’t a nice story. Do you want it anyway?
Torian nods. “If you do not mind the telling.”
Ashrien smiles faintly, tiredly. “It’s not really my story. But I had a chum about my age, a little older, and it’s hers. Her family lived in the same… area I did. We played in the streets together. I knew her parents a bit.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] They didn’t discourage our association. Her mother fell ill and got sicker and sicker, they couldn’t afford a healer.
Ashrien goes on watching Torian, more for reaction than waiting for a response.
Torian speaks very softly. “My father often took on such cases without a fee. When he learned of them. But this would have been before his time, I imagine.”
Ashrien nods. “And the Temple couldn’t take on all the charity cases in the city. Too much suffering, spread themselves too thin… Anyhow. My friend had a great deal of faith in the Light. Had hopes of becoming a priestess some day. It wasn’t just a ticket out of poverty. She believed. She thought the Light might work through her to save her mother. Happy ending, right?” He shakes his head. “She had plenty of faith, or so it seemed to me as a boy. Even so. Nothing happened, no matter her prayers, no matter her faith.”
Torian is silent for a moment, drawn inward. The orcs do not allow him to stay there long either. “It was a wasp.” He says softly. “For me. It was a wasp.”
Ashrien waits. He’s good at waiting.
Torian: [Thalassian] It stung Liirian. And I was just about to run and get father. But then she laid her little hand over the swelling and the glow came and it was gone. And I… I was so… angry. And afraid. It was the first time she had ever had something I did not.
Ashrien goes on waiting. He’s no longer that impassive almost-a-servant; there’s sympathy, or maybe concern, in his eyes now. He’s listening.
Torian is paying no attention to Ash now, really. He’s gone far away in remembering. “Of course, that couldn’t stand. And I beat myself bloody for days and weeks. Little self-inflicted injuries, trying to force the Light to come to my hand as it had hers.”
Ashrien makes a soft curious noise. Still listening, still attentive and thoughtful.
Torian: [Thalassian] It took a more serious injury. And not my own. For it to finally come.
Torian retreats inward again, eyes darkening and then closing off. He shakes his head. “That path… I don’t think it will reopen.”
Ashrien waits a few beats. Then he gives the other elf’s hand a squeeze. “Then you will find another one. There is more than one path to the Light. Or perhaps you do not wish for it to return to you? That would be all right, if you did not.”
Torian’s voice is quite soft. “Some things are simply gone. Beyond recall. I have… accepted this.”
Ashrien mms quietly. “I will not press you on it then, if you are happiest as things stand. However…” He laughs a little. “Does rather mean they won’t be able to simply execute me for refusin’ to fight, if they’re smart.”
Torian looks up at him, eyes probing. “And will you?”
Ashrien shrugs. “Depends on the circumstances we face. Defending the ship and crew is one thing. Participating in a needless bloodbath is another.”
Torian: [Thalassian] Or definition of ‘needless’ may conflict a bit with that of our current command.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Per present climate, I do not think… I do not think they would understand that it could ever be needless.
Ashrien speaks without particular emotion once more.
Torian earflicks toward the sound of laughter from below and nods. “There are bloody years ahead, I fear.”
Ashrien briefly closes his eyes and nods faintly in agreement. “I’m sure you’re right. I simply — fel.” The mask falls away briefly, and he’s a tired and… frightened? elf, ears flattening back against his skull. “I’ve had enough of war, Dawnsinger. I just fear war hasn’t had enough of me.”
Torian: [Thalassian] I thought that I was done with it as well. But as you say. The sea has its own plans.
Ashrien nods again, once more collected and unreadable. “It does, but my time aboard the Sapphire has shown me that we do not always go simply where the currents and winds would bear us.”
Torian smiles faintly. “No. The Captain of this vessel does seem to fight the winds at every turn. I doubt the orcs will have any easier a time forcing her hand than I ever did.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Well, one thing to know about sailing is sometimes the smoothest and fastest course is set by tacking — going not with and not against the wind, but crosswise.
Torian smiles. “That sounds like the sort of thing that’s likely to make me seasick.”
Ashrien: [Thalassian] I have elixirs to save you from that, if you wish them. Or do you seek discomfort to endure stoically? I know some knights favor such things.
Torian: [Thalassian] I think that I will tae the option that does not leave me heaving over the side of the ship. Allow me to preserve some small shred of dignity in this adventure.
Ashrien: [Thalassian] Dignity and comfort, as much as can be had here.
Ashrien gestures.
Torian nods. “Thank you, Ashrien. For the concern, and the rest. You’ve given me quite a bit to think on.”
Ashrien takes that as dismissal — he bows, as befitting to someone of Torian’s civilian rank. “If I may offer assistance, your lordship, do not hesitate to ask. For now, you are under my care as much as any on the ship.”
Torian: [Thalassian] Then I am in good hands. As are we all.
Torian bows before you.
