FH: White Robing

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 AM – The Godcarvers]

> “Well, no, not really,” Tramma admitted. “I know Pilinde’s parents; we
> came out on the Wagon Train together. Two of the nicest people you’d
> ever hope to meet, and both Belmakian. But dear Pilinde often wishes
> that she COULD have been raised by wolves. She was never able to talk
> her parents into the idea, and *I* refused to help her convince them.”

Before long, most of the Away Team and a few others had followed
Mithralia to behind the backstage curtain line, there to pick up the
apprentice wizard’s white robes so useful for Wind Walking. All of the
Away Team except for Abbot Kenobi, of course; he had accepted Sister
Erin’s offer to stand in for the Holy Man to fetch the apparel for him,
allowing him to be on his own as he changed in the privacy of his own tent.

And as part of the Away Team, Laquendi was following along with the
rest. It only took a moment to find the apprentice wizard, standing in
the corner of the backstage area that was clearly a small camp Huntress
Pilinde shared with the hulking weretiger Stern, the latter who was
already catnapping buried in a pile of furs nearby. And privacy seemed
to be something valued by the Abbot… and apparently the Abbot alone.

Laquendi’s Arcanely practised eye correctly observed that Mithi was in
the final stages of applying a Prestidigitation cantrip to complete a
magical cleaning for the Huntress’ now unclad form. Just as the Sisters,
Big and Little under her own Command had done in the past, with either
Vilma, Josie, or Tramma providing the required magics when an actual hot
bath had been an unobtainable luxury. Had the Abbot been present, he now
would most CERTAINLY have seen what was under this particular lady’s
shirt… and everything else. But of course Benjamin was safely on the far
side of the pipe and drape curtain, and his agent, Sister Erin, was
clearly not bothered by the sight, given that she and the Huntress
shared the same gender, and presumably the same plumbing.

In fact, really NOBODY here seemed at all disturbed by the sight of a
magically “bathing” Huntress. Which to some degree matched Laquendi’s
own experience observing communal bathing in all of her time at the
Keeryte Refuge of Symbala. An experience that was now oddly reinforced
by bizarrely incongruous memories of experiencing that sort of group
bathing not just as an occasional field expedient out at Ice Station
Omega, but from odd firsthand memories as a Little Sister herself. Which
was incompatible with her actual history, but those sorts of strange
half remembered memories were cropping up from time to time after the
recent Moondance that was the capstone of Bard Tramma’s Confirmation as
a Bitani.

But all of those memories, both first hand and the strange “shadow”
memories, had one thing in common – the group bathing had been single
gender, with all involved most demonstrably being solely members of the
female of their respective species, just as Huntress Pilinde most
clearly was now. However, just at the moment, for all that the Abbot was
absent, wasn’t there still one other male present?

A quick glance around confirmed that yes indeed, Captain Finfinfin was
present with the other members of the Away Team. And far from ignoring
the Huntress, as Pilinde had practically complained, he was watching his
apprentice’s efforts most attentively. But… Laquendi observed,
respectfully, making no effort to hide what to her own eyes looked to be
genuinely honest appreciation.

This raised an odd contradiction in Laquendi’s mind. The elven officer
was apparently being treated as “one of the girls”, a phrase she’d heard
bandied about the Sisterhood more than once. But he WASN’T a girl… was
he? True, Pilinde was the only person just at the moment whose dress
code removed any gender ambiguity, but everything that the dusky elf had
heard about the elven officer had suggested that he most CERTAINLY a
male specimen of elvenkind. And now those curious half memories that had
been a souvenir of her recent Moondance suggested that she’d heard
second hand accounts that were MOST positive that Mithralia’s mentor and
lover was absolutely her BOYfriend.

So which was true? Surely she was not so new to her new hormonally
fuelled awareness of the significance of the genders to be unable to
tell the difference, absent more obvious evidence? However, the newly
awakened hormones triggered by her recent Healing suggested that there
was an expedient way to find out, but Laquendi quickly shelved the
notion. For now, at least, she would accept as a given that Captain
Finfinfin WAS male.

Which only led to the rather more inexplicable puzzle; why were none of
the ladies present, and most certainly neither Pilinde NOR Mithralia,
objecting to his company? The former at having the “one gender only”
rule trampled, and the latter for her partner obviously if respectfully
enjoying the sight being presented to him? That was a mystery she would
have to unravel at a different time.

Just now, Mithralia had finished her Prestidigitations on the Huntress,
while the scout Lomi had finished stacking her Pack Leader’s discarded
gear in a pile in front of the young wizard. Meanwhile, Pilinde was
glaring at everyone around.

“This is the first time any of you have seen a Huntress get cleaned up?”
she growled.

“Hey,” Lomi replied, finishing her clothing stack, “YOU know of all
people that it can sometimes take a group effort to give a dog – or a
Wolf – a bath.”

“I haven’t slept YET,” Pilinde snarled at her friend, “and I WILL bite you.”

“Something you keep promising,” Lomi quipped, clearly not particularly
alarmed at the threat.

With a sigh, Pilinde turned to Sister Erin. “Mother Erin,” she began,
but the young Belmakian clerk held up an interrupting hand.

“Just… Sister, Huntress,” Erin interjected. “If that’s all the same. I
feel like people are confusing me fer me mum when folks call me
‘Mother’. And anyways,” the Belmakian added with a small smile, running
her gaze over Pilinde, “it don’t quite seem like we’re in a formal
setting, if ye get me meanin’.”

“Err… quite,” Pilinde had to concede. “Very well. Sister Erin, unlike
perhaps some of my peers, I do not take any joy in making jokes about
your Vow of Holy Celibacy. It is not a choice I would have made, and it
would be a disaster if we as an entire species chose that path… but
otherwise, I respect your choice.”

“Thank you, Huntress,” Erin replied sincerely.

“So complete is my respect,” Pilinde continued, “that I feel it only
proper to warn you that thanks to Mithralia’s magics, there is every
chance that if Stern should awake when I crawl into his furpile, before
long he and I will be doing things that while perfectly Natural, are
those that you might not wish to personally see.”

“So I should make meself scarce just as soon as I have some white robes
for the Boss from Mithi,” Erin suggested with a grin.

“If more Belmakians were as reasonable as you,” Pilinde replied
sincerely, “the Church would be a better place.” She gave a yawn, and
clearly decided that she’d been sufficiently social for the day, and a
moment later was out of sight under Stern’s furpile.

“Nearly done ‘ere,” Mithi replied, applying her Prestidigitation
cleaning to the larger of the Huntress’ clothing that would most
certainly NOT be travelling with the Away Team. Just as Lomi was sorting
through some of her Pack Leader’s smaller articles of clothing,
wrinkling her nose at several.

“Not much to choose between here,” the long legged Scout complained.
“Even MY nose can tell these are all Pilinde’s from quite a ways away.
What they’ll do to a wolf’s nose, I don’t want to think.” A very
credible low growl from under the fur pile suggested that Lomi might
want to move her famous legs, and especially their vulnerable ankles, a
bit further out of reach.

“The shirt will do,” Lomi quickly concluded, fetching the still soiled
article from the laundry pile as Mithi concluded her Arcane cleaning on
what was left. Soon afterwards, they had repaired back to the wizards’
own spot more centrally located in the backstage camp. There, Mithi dug
out not one but several of the white robes, one earmarked for the Abbot
to allow Erin to allow her to make her hasty retreat, one for Galdis
Laurelin, and one for each and every Away Team member present.

None of the other four Away Team members hesitated for a moment, and
began shedding any outerwear that might get in the way of the white
robes. And after no real consideration at all, so too did Laquendi. If
the Huntress could peel down to bare skin in front of the male elf, SHE
was not going to hesitate about removing a mere toplayer. And really,
there hadn’t been much to have been seen by anyone, and soon afterwards,
all four were clad in white, and were crossing through the pipe and
drape curtain heading into the main part of the combined Stone House and
Cat Mob camp.

After recruiting a volunteer to run Laurelin’s robe to the elven
priestess’ camp, the five white clad Travellers – plus Mithi – headed
over towards the Abbot’s campaign tent, there to rejoin Erin and all
await the Holy Man’s pleasure. And joining them were not just all three
of the Pussycats, but also the rest of Team Keeryte, all wanting to see
the voyagers off.

“Take care, Fin,” Mithi quietly encouraged her beau.

“I most certainly shall,” the elven officer promised. “And I fear you
have the more hazardous duty today. You will be the Arcane backbone of
any quick reaction force should the kobolds decide that a show of force
is needed to maintain political control after last night’s Raid, and our
Godcarver hosts and Medicine Woman’s Cat Mob army are obvious targets.”

“Hey!” the redheaded Pussycat Josie objected. “I mean, I GUESS you can
be forgiven if you’ve been a bit DISTRACTED these last several nights,
but I HOPE you noticed that Mithi has three VERY good Pussycat friends.”
The brash singer’s words were apparently true, as a moment later Mithi
had a trio of weretigress protectors around her.

The Pussycat drummer Mel gently reached out and touched the elven
officer’s cheek. “We’ll keep Mithi safe, Fin,” the blonde musician said
reassuringly. “Just YOU be certain to come back to her.”

“Yeah!” Josie agreed emphatically. “And the rest of us. And be sure to
keep Songbird safe, too.”

For just a moment, Finfin looked around, wondering if the Bitani
religious leader from Spindrift was making an appearance. Only to recall
an instant later that this was also the younger ladies’ nickname for
Tramma. “I most certainly shall,” the elf promised.

“As will I,” Jeyshann stated emphatically. “Not a silver hair of this
Songbird’s head will be harmed if I have anything to say about it. Which
I shall.” Here, she paused to give the elven officer an unexpected nod
of approval. “I, and the Captain here.”

Gently, Mithi eased between her Pussycat Protectors to walk over to the
silver haired bard. Putting Tramma’s hand in Finfin’s, Mithi suggested,
“If fings DO go pear shaped, don’t be ashamed ta ‘ide behind Fin an’ the
Great Medicine Woman. They’ll get ya ‘ome.”

Tramma gave the apprentice mage a forthright kiss before promising,
“I’ll do that. But mind Fin’s words, Mithi. I’m also worried YOU’VE got
the riskier job today.”

“She vill be fine,” Uta interjected. “Und vill NOT be ze only finger
twiddler zere. Vilma vill also be zere, vith her AWESOME Vand of Fiery
Fire.”

“It is only a wand, Uta,” Vilma gently objected.

“Nuts,” Uta dismissed the concern away with a wave of her hand. “You
KNOW vhat it can do against KOBOLDS. Livink, or not. Vith ME shieldink you.”

Oddly enough, the brash Hyarmani’s words triggered another of those
oddly persistent quasi memories that seemed recently to be following
Laquendi everywhere. “Uta is not wrong,” the silver haired elf mused.
“If the need arises, Fireball Everything In Sight. And remember your
sandtable training.”

Both Vilma and Laquendi blinked at this last command. Just where THAT
had come from in Laquendi’s mind, the Keeryte Team’s commander could not
immediately say. But the elven Initiate could understand the sense
behind her CO’s words. And unlike Laquendi, Vilma really did have any
number of very real and material memories of endless sandtable sessions
helping her enhance her skill at being the sole wand wielding mage in a
Tower Defence scenario.

Laquendi then looked in some concern at the two Little Sisters in her
care. “And do not ASSUME that it is best to put all of our Arcane eggs
in one basket. The sneaky kobolds could launch a…” Here, Laquendi had to
pause for a moment, looking for the correct term. “Sucker?” she mused at
last.

Captain Finfinfin nodded, clearly impressed at the Keeryte CO’s tactical
paranoia. “A feint,” he stated, approval in his voice. “They launch a
feint – or a sucker punch – hoping to draw out the best of our defences,
while the MAIN element of their force hits us elsewhere.”

“Don’t worry, skipper,” Reva reassured her Boss. “We’ll be on the
lookout for that, and we’ve got good scouting in place to hopefully keep
us out of that trap. And wherever the Little Sisters wind up, I’ll be
there too.”

“And me,” Vowsister Orah added grimly. “It’s been a while since a bunch
of Bad Guys got the Two Kyrene Girls fighting back to back. And I’ll
assure you – THAT bunch of Baddies won’t be doing it again.”

Reva nodded, clearly sharing the same memory as her roomie. “No…” the
Senior Initiate added. “That they won’t.” And perhaps not for the first
time, Laquendi was reminded that for all that her XO was still wearing
the Blues of an Initiate, it had only been a setback that had prevented
Reva from Earning her Greens at about the same time as her pal, Orah.
And certainly on the several times the Keeryte CO had seen her XO and
the Vowsister spar together, a Weaponmaster might have been able to spot
a gap between their abilities, but Laquendi herself certainly could not.