[Blanche nods her head at the inclination of Alaric's head; go take care of what you need to, dude.
The cleric in question startles briefly when Alaric speaks up--a little too focused on her current duties rather than anything too surprised, at least. Though, she keeps her voice low when she speaks up.
"I'm...afraid that I did. I was traveling with my fellow sisters, and...we were beset by a horrible woman. The tome she weld was incredibly powerful, and...able to change the weather in the immediate area.
...And she implied that it could do much more."
Well, that's a juicy tidbit of information. The cleric looks around, clearly fraught after saying that much, as if she thinks the woman will appear out of thin air--
"That is all I know. She appeared on our way through Miramas. If you value your lives, do not face her. I...I was lucky to escape, scathed as I am..."
Cast and point: she's got quite a few layers on, but her right arm hasn't moved for the entire conversation. The implication is likely obvious.
Miramas isn't the longest journey they could have to take on foot, but it is long enough and far enough from the kingdom that they need to be prepared for whatever journey comes ahead. Especially given they're going to be going through another noble family's territory in order to get there, and relations are still strained at best.
Of course, in the background of this, Blanche has finished healing all of the injured residents. They're all definitely thankful, giving what little bits of things they can. Some give money, some give vulneraries, at least one's just given us a Killing Edge (a gift that'll best suit Alaric, Blanche notes), and...
"Please, allow me to house you and Sir Alaric at the inn for the night, Your Majesty!" The old woman smiles easily. "It's the least we can do for your hard work in protectin' us. Free of charge!"]
You have our thanks for your hospitality; we will gladly take it.
[The cleric finishes her own work, and pauses for a moment...and whether Alaric notices or not, she slips something into his hand; it's an amulet that seems to be infused with a mild level magical protection. A touch worn, but...
"May the fates ever protect your steps."
And the cleric will walk away, for the time being, as Blanche turns around and gestures with her head to Alaric. Coming with?]
no subject
The cleric in question startles briefly when Alaric speaks up--a little too focused on her current duties rather than anything too surprised, at least. Though, she keeps her voice low when she speaks up.
"I'm...afraid that I did. I was traveling with my fellow sisters, and...we were beset by a horrible woman. The tome she weld was incredibly powerful, and...able to change the weather in the immediate area.
...And she implied that it could do much more."
Well, that's a juicy tidbit of information. The cleric looks around, clearly fraught after saying that much, as if she thinks the woman will appear out of thin air--
"That is all I know. She appeared on our way through Miramas. If you value your lives, do not face her. I...I was lucky to escape, scathed as I am..."
Cast and point: she's got quite a few layers on, but her right arm hasn't moved for the entire conversation. The implication is likely obvious.
Miramas isn't the longest journey they could have to take on foot, but it is long enough and far enough from the kingdom that they need to be prepared for whatever journey comes ahead. Especially given they're going to be going through another noble family's territory in order to get there, and relations are still strained at best.
Of course, in the background of this, Blanche has finished healing all of the injured residents. They're all definitely thankful, giving what little bits of things they can. Some give money, some give vulneraries, at least one's just given us a Killing Edge (a gift that'll best suit Alaric, Blanche notes), and...
"Please, allow me to house you and Sir Alaric at the inn for the night, Your Majesty!" The old woman smiles easily. "It's the least we can do for your hard work in protectin' us. Free of charge!"]
You have our thanks for your hospitality; we will gladly take it.
[The cleric finishes her own work, and pauses for a moment...and whether Alaric notices or not, she slips something into his hand; it's an amulet that seems to be infused with a mild level magical protection. A touch worn, but...
"May the fates ever protect your steps."
And the cleric will walk away, for the time being, as Blanche turns around and gestures with her head to Alaric. Coming with?]