Rhytania: Hostage to the Hunt

[Rhytania]

(Continuation from the Lythos Rising- viewtopic.php?f=155&t=23327)

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[Aislynn]

I love how the story is progressing. DEFINITELY looking forward to the next 'chapter'!

[Rhytania]

Thank you! And a big thank you to all involved in this unfolding RP.

[George]

Thank you for the logs. Awesome!

[Rhytania]

The trees standing in this patch of the untouched old-growth forest look on as silent guardians in this area, centuries if not millennia old. The moss as thick and plentiful as the undergrowth of dead limbs, leaves, and young saplings trying to compete for resources in the soil, air, and sun. Rays of sunlight barely able to pierce through the canopy far overhead. The wood is alive, acting as home and safe harbor to the hundreds of species that have co-existed here since the first saplings took root.
Rhytania looks over at Drexton, the blood, and gore from her latest kill up to her elbows, her mouth and lips dripping from the deep dark blood. She looks exhausted as she hardens her will to the grim task ahead. The bite mark on the deer's neck and its multitude of scratches and deep cuts tell the story of a barehanded kill, one whose deadly strike coming in the form of a missing chunk of flesh at the base of the neck. The deer's corpse, twitching in its finals throes. She turns away from Drexton and untangles her self from the grapple hold she had on the deer. The blood pumps in rhythmic squirts from the neck, the deer's mouth is gasping in the act of futile instinct, its eyes darting around frantically. Rhy picks the deers head up and lays it gently in her lap, she coos softly to it, reassuring it, guiding it, as she places her forehead against the bridge of the deers head, just between its eyes. She continues to pet it and cooing softly, a slight melody emerging as she sings softly to it, showing it a nearly bizarre courtesy, comforting it in its final throes, while covered in its gore. A slight shift in the tune as Rhy wraps her arms around the deer's neck, hugging it, and with one swift and violent motion, she twists her whole body, the crick-crack of neckbone echoing off the forest, its ancient trees bearing witness with their cold, silent, stares.
Rhy places the head down gently, her hand brushing across the dead, lifeless eyes of the deer as she closes its eyelids forever. She reaches and sticks two fingers inside the deer's neck wound, the vicious, still warm liquid staining her fingers. With a quick motion, she trails her fingers from her forehead down to the bridge of her nose, and again a stroke under each eye. She reaches behind her at the small of her back, tucked into a waistband keeping her simple animal hide tunic cinched at the waist she pulls put a talon, large and wickedly sharp, mounted to a padded cylinder of wood, formed fitted for her hand to grip comfortable, the long dark claw extending from the middle of her fist. She makes an expert slice down the middle of the carcass, the razor-sharp edge of the talon splitting hide and sinew easily. Tucking the talon away she reach into the corpse, nearly up to her shoulder's depth, as her she bites her lip in concentration, with a quick twist of her arm she extracts it, a dark red lump of muscle a few strands of artery and vein ripped from their place hanging from the once beating heart.
She sniffs the heart and inspects it quickly, nodding in approval at the lack of any disease, parasite, deformity. She stands now, cupping the deer's heart in both hands, and strolls under Drexton's penetrating gaze. She stops a pace in front of him, her crude and basic tunic, barely able to cover her form, shifts and hangs awkwardly. She kneels in front of the Huntmaster, bowing her head and raising her cupped hands in unison upwards to Drexton, '...first bite.', offering it to him in the act of total supplication and submissiveness.

Rhytania wakes up in a cold sweat, her eyes wild from the nightmare. She tugs pointlessly on her bound and leashed hands, the skin at her wrists rubbed raw, the constant struggling forcing the wounds to seep blood. She rolls off the cot and kicks it as far as she can manage, the last thing she remembers was the foul tasting tincture Drexton forced into her mouth, the effects taking hold before she even swallowed. She pulls as far as the rope will allow, back into her corner, where the two walls meet. She closes her eyes and focuses her attention inward. She chants and prays softly, knowing without her focii or holy-symbol bridging that gap to the divine, not to mention the possibility of strong wards in this makeshift prison, would be nigh impossible.

[Rhytania]

Next installment of: As The Circle Turns

Since this is involving a few other players and different groups, feel free to add your own logs, or entries, so people who peruse this thread can have a enjoy a somewhat complete picture.

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[Elisabeth]

A meeting between the Huntmaster and Forestarm looming, Niccele of Tymora and Elisabeth of Tyr are called for advisement. They urge against seeking peaceful talks with Beasts of the Hunt...

Elisabeth bows her head, saying, 'Forestarm, Master George, hail.'.
Lythos nods at each one of you, 'We do not have much time.'.
George nods solemnly.
Niccele glances at Lythos.
You gaze thoughtfully at him and say 'Hmmm.'
Lythos says 'The Huntmaster has offered to meet and talk terms. One can come with me, at a neutral location.'
George says 'I'll let him tell it as he's been speaking with the Huntmaster'
a woven braid of hemp with delicate vine leaf charms glows briefly as Lythos activates it.
The clouds disappear.
Elisabeth seemingly remains silent and attentive to listen, thumbs hooking in her broad swordbelt.
Niccele seems to be listening as well. Though she is bouncing and jingling beside you.
Lythos says 'The Huntmaster offers peace, but not to return Rhytania to the Forest. He says she has gone mad. The Beastlord raised her from the dead as she was turned away by the Forest Queen.'
Lythos shakes his head, 'Lies, I do not believe him, of course. She would not turn her away.'.
George frowns.
Lythos says 'We shall meet in 6 hours, at the outskirts of Ardeep.'
Elisabeth's ebon brow knits a little bit.
George says 'I don't trust him.'
Elisabeth's tone is mild and even as she asks, 'Meet.. for what purpose, exactly?'.
The sun slowly starts to set in the west.
Lythos tilts his head, 'He wants to talk... peace, I assume.' He tsks, 'Unattainable whilst she remains hostage. But he insists that its the Beastlord will, not his.'.
You gaze thoughtfully at him and say 'Hmmm.'
Lythos shakes his head, 'I do not see harm in talking to him... He claims that she is not ready yet, that the Beastlord is handling her madness.' He takes a deep breath.
Niccele hmms 'Peace his not his will, or holding her hostage is not.' She shakes her head a bit 'I'm not sure what the harm could be in a talk, but I also do not see what could be gained.'.
Niccele says 'Though...I do not know this one well...so...'
Elisabeth points out, 'Discourse with evil and chaos is always potentially harmful, in several ways.'.
George looks to you, nodding agreement. 'That's my worry'.
Niccele tilts her head 'He is not likely to divulge any information that would aid in our finding her, you cannot agree to any peace while he has her, nor could you trust him to keep his word..'.
Lythos tilts his head, 'What else can be done? A blood hunt hangs over our heads at this very moment. Not talking would yield the same result as talking... But we might gain some information.'.
The smell of fresh fish is carried in by the breeze.
George adds, 'Thus, he must be attempting to gain information -from- us and an edge.'.
Elisabeth nods to George, then Niccele, ere offering a polite, 'And you risk legitimizing their wicked cause, empowering their spirit, and wasting time that might otherwise be used to retrieve what seemingly is justly not theirs.'.
Lythos Hmmmms...
Niccele begins to chant.
You guess Niccele is casting magic mirror.
Niccele utters the words, 'magic mirror'.
The night has begun.
Lythos tilts his head, 'Maybe there is something else that he might want? Something we could offer in her place?'
Elisabeth rolls a heavy pauldron, fine steel plates hissing audibly as they slide and interlock with the movement, 'I see not wherefore one might want to bargon at all, but then, I confess myself not fully aware of the situation.' ere seeming to fall again silent to listen.
Niccele begins to chant.
You guess Niccele is casting owls wisdom.
Niccele utters the words, 'owls wisdom'.
Niccele grows serious as wisdom takes root within her.
Niccele gets a professionally crafted perfect birthday cake from a silvery silk sack.
Niccele gets a hot lava cake from a silvery silk sack.
Niccele puts a professionally crafted perfect birthday cake in a silvery silk sack.
Niccele wrinkles her forehead and plops down with a piece of cake as she listens.
Niccele sits down and relaxes.
George nods encouragingly to Lythos. 'Best tell from the beginning so we can be advised accordingly'.
Lythos nods.
Lythos says to you 'Some time ago a friend and I had an encounter with Sina and one of her companions... The situation escalated and it hurt their pride.'
George watches the path, glancing at Lythos off and on as he speaks.
Lythos says to you 'For that, Sina summoned the Furies and they named their price. One life. My life. Rhytania took my place. Stripped of all means of communication, she was taken.'
Elisabeth hmms quietly.
Lythos says to you 'But they did not stop at one life, it seems. The Beastlord has raised her again... And now the Huntmaster attempts to corrupt her, whilst feeding me lies.'
Lythos glances at the sky, raising three fingers, 'We have about three hours...'.
George sighs softly, shaking his head as he does.
Lythos tilts his head, 'You are a faithful of the Just God. What do you think?'.
Elisabeth utters at length, 'It seems, to me, that paying their price was not a very... wise thing to do, and now they feel empowered to make of ye further demands.' then, 'An a thief will not relinquish his stolen goods, he will lose his hand and have the goods forcefully taken. That seems the reasonable course.'.
George reaches up to smooth his moustache, nodding slowly in thought.
Elisabeth bows her head briefly at Lythos. 'In short, I would suggest not stooping to his false sense of honor and good-naturedness by bargoning. Justice does not bargon with criminals.'.
You murmur 'But mayhaps Mielikki feels differently.'
Lythos frowns.
Niccele says 'Though, I do not see him bargaining for her...and even if he did, the price would be so great. It is like a snowball going down a snowy hill.'
You nod at her.
George nods to you and Niccele and says softly. 'Exactly. I think what we've been discussing - the plan - remains our best course of action. Saving the Forestarm.'.
Lythos sighs, 'Thank you, all of you, for your support and guidance.'.
Lythos nods at George.
Niccele says to Lythos 'You know I'd like to just charge in, but I just do not see any point to this meeting. I do not see any good coming of it.'
Lythos says 'That will always be the plan. However, we have an opportunity to do it without blood shed and protect life.'
Lythos sighs, 'Slim as it seems.'.
Elisabeth looks to Lythos, putting all the weight of a seasoned veteran on Lythos's relatively green shoulders in asking, 'What will you do, Forestarm?'.
George says to Lythos 'If you still plan to speak with him, I'll still go, but I don't think for a minute that it's for anything more than learning from us.'
Lythos raises his head, looking you in the eyes, 'I appreciate the advice, Dame Elisabeth.' He turns to look at Niccele, 'And yours, Luckbringer.'.
Lythos says to George 'Yes, I understand that. But he has her. What else can I do? It is a slim chance to offer something in exchange or gather information. I must meet him.'

A time later, with brief and unfriendly word having been exchanged with the Huntmaster by amulet, Elisabeth is called to the outskirts of Ardeep...

George smiles at you.
George bows his head respectfully. 'Thank you for coming.'.
George smiles at Percival, a pure white Cormyrean destrier.
Elisabeth reins in Percival, a pure white Cormyrean destrier to an easy stop a couple of yards from George and, head bowing, says, ''Twas no trouble. How might I be of service, Master George?'.
Elisabeth then drops down with the grace of a well-trained rider to approach George the rest of the way on foot.
You dismount Percival, a pure white Cormyrean destrier.
George smiles at you. 'We thought we should let you that it went exactly as we expected.'.
George rolls a hand. 'And he threatens a council of the Furies and that entails should we try to save Forestarm Rhytania.'.
You hear the howl of a wild animal nearby.
Elisabeth's mismatched gauntlets settle familiarly at her swordbelt as she nods. 'And that will be your next course?'.
George clears his throat. 'Excuse me, -conclave- of Furies.' He nods to you. 'Yes, I believe so. It's Lythos's call ultimately, but I think so.'.
Elisabeth remarks a mild, 'The man speaks as though he is not, in fact, part of a lawless and indecent organization wrought only to spread strife and blood.' and shakes her head.
George sighs. 'I can't see another way for, as you noted, they can't be trusted. Peace, to him, is relinquishing the Forestarm to her fate.'.
a woven braid of hemp with delicate vine leaf charms glows briefly as George activates it.
a woven braid of hemp with delicate vine leaf charms glows briefly as George activates it.
George nods at you.
a woven braid of hemp with delicate vine leaf charms glows briefly as George activates it.
Lythos flies in from the north.
George smiles at Lythos.
Lythos walks in, 'Caught your scent in the wind, George.'.
Elisabeth's lips purse a moment, before she replies, 'I know you and the Forestarm like it not. Nor do I. But betimes peace can be won only by the sword.'.
Lythos glances at you.
Elisabeth looks over and bows her head to Lythos. 'Ah, well again, Forestarm.'.
You regain enough energy to 'turn undead' again.
Lythos bows his head toward you, 'Dame Elisabeth.' Raising his head, he says, 'I understand George has already updated you?'.
George nods slowly. 'Your words are true. That's something I'm coming to terms with, Dame Elisabeth. Stand and be true.'.
You are STARVING!
Lythos nods, exhaling deeply, 'Sword and shield, talons and claws. I see no way around it.'.
George looks to Lythos. 'I think we should gather somewhere warded to finalize what we must do. Timing will be critical.'.
Elisabeth looks from Lythos to George, saying in a tone to convey reassurance, 'Ye will be doing the Realms a favor to rid it of the likes of him and his ilk.'.
George glances to you with a grateful smile.
Lythos Hmmmms...
Lythos asks 'Shall we head to that place, within Ardeep, George?'
George nods.
George says 'We should call the others who are about, too'
George says 'Actually, I forgot that I've something to attend to and I'm late already'
George frowns.
Lythos sniffs the air, shutting his eyes, 'I do not feel the scent of our allies nearby, George. Maybe it would be best if we met when we can gather more people.'.
The sun slowly starts to set in the west.
George nods at Lythos.
George says to you 'Thank you for coming and for your counsel.'
George bows before you.
George says to Lythos 'I'll be back as soon as I can'
Lythos nods at George.
Elisabeth offers, 'Such things are best not rushed, in any case.' She bows her head to George. 'Fare you well, Master George.'.
Lythos says 'Green paths, my friend.'
George says 'Great Mother's blessings on you both'
George waves and slips southward.
George rises from his rest.
George walks south.
Lythos nods at you.
You gaze thoughtfully at him and say 'Hmmm.'
Lythos inhales deeply, 'Have you ever done something that you regret? Even though it felt like the right thing to do, Dame Elisabeth?'.
You hear the howl of a wild animal nearby.
Elisabeth affords a faint nod for Lythos. 'I believe that is a necessary thing for the growth and learning of any one. But...'.
Elisabeth holds up a hand slightly, explaining, 'I also think it does little good to linger too much on that regret. It can paralyse a man in difficult times.'.
The night has begun.
You are STARVING!
Lythos nods, turning his head to look at the tree line, his mouth pursed.
Lythos says 'Wise words, Dame Elisabeth. There is no Path that leads to the past.'
Lythos sighs.
Elisabeth settles the hand back at her belt and nods to Lythos's back, saying a fraction more gently, 'The truest victor is not the one who never makes a mistake, but who can find the strength to press on in the face of his failure.' She pauses for a pregnant breath, then asks, 'You think you can help your friend by recovering her? Will she thank you for it?'.
Lythos nods, turning back to look at you, 'Yes. She is being kept against her will, I am certain.' He shakes his head, 'She would have sent word if this was not the case. Prayers I have sent her, through the winds and the roots of the oldest trees.'.
Lythos tsks, 'And Drexton words... That she has a -- darkness -- within her. That she is being saved by the Beastlord...' His face grimaces in pain, 'It all tastes sour and bitter to me.'.
You are STARVING!
Elisabeth's thin lips curve to show but a hint of a smile, and she replies, 'Then let the knowledge of her undue captivity be your armour against the sting of past regrets, and harness the bitterness as your sword against what you know to be wrong. At least, that is what I do.'.
Lythos nods in agreement as he pulls his shield closer, 'I see why most keep you in high esteem, Dame Elisabeth. Your advice is both true and sound, but not demanding.' He inclines his head toward you, 'Thank you, once more.'.
Elisabeth inclines her head, saying, ''Tis only mine understanding of what men much wiser than I have shown me.' She adds then as her tall figure shifts to begin making way for Percival, a pure white Cormyrean destrier, 'Mistresses Renea, Niccele, and I are all willing to help your cause in the events to come, as I understand it. Pray do call should ever you wish to speak.'.
You mount Percival, a pure white Cormyrean destrier.
Lythos says to you 'I will. May you travel green paths.'
Lythos steps back, out of the way toward the roads.
Lythos bows before you.
Elisabeth slips a sabaton into a stirrup and draws herself easily up into the saddle. Her head bows respectfully a second time, and she replies, 'Justice keep you for now, Forestarm.'.